Sedition (7 page)

I nod. I’ve always known that. “Torenze was your mentor… is that why you want him to be part of your project?”

Cash laughs. “I’d rather have him dead,” he says, quite bluntly. “When I was fourteen, my mother arranged for me to spend a week in a re-education center. I brought home poor grades in my history class, and she decided that would be the best way to motivate me. Oliver was the one in charge of supervising me during this very creative punishment. He made sure I wasn’t too badly damaged, but he helped to get the point across.

I stare at him in shock. “You can’t do that,” I say, even though he’s just told me that you can.

“When your name is in the training manuals of all the re-education centers, you can,” he points out. “My mother didn’t give the orders for me to get damaged badly or raped or anything of that sort, but she let them starve and beat and terrify me. Oliver was with me most of the time, supervising. The whole experience made it very clear that I didn’t want to end up there. In a way, it started my interest in the subject.”

I consider the kind of parent who could do this to their child, and it sickens me. It also explains why my master is the way he is. The ends justify the means, always, no matter how horrible the means really are. “How can you stand the thought of working with him again?”

Cash smiles. “I’m disgusted by him personally, by how much he enjoys torturing people, but he’s everything I need. Besides, he’s the only person I know who hates my mother more than I do. After she let him go, he made it clear, both personally and professionally, that he was going to stand in her way, just like he perceived her standing in his. He’s well-connected, personable, interested in competing with my mother, and I trust him in business. He won’t question me too much, not until it’s too late for him to realize what he’s invested in. He’s my ticket to re-establishing myself in the slave training world.”

“You can’t just start from scratch?” I ask, considering the option. There are new faces in research all the time; surely, he could just pretend everything was new.

“I have to, but I need legitimacy of some sort,” my master explains. “I had some as Kristine Miller’s progeny; I have none as a wealthy financial advisor. Besides, it would consume almost all of my savings—there is an end to them, you know. I need business partners, the right kind, both for funding and for the image of my project. Keeping up my front not only as a business leader, but also as a slaveholder, is key to getting what I want. I can’t afford to look like I oppose the system; that’s asking for treason and rejection again. That’s why it’s so important that I impress, well, men like Oliver Torenze. Having him support my current project is perfect because he’s established in the field. I’ve been stripped of everything I used to be. He hasn’t.”

“You just changed your name,” I mumble. “It’s not like you inhabited a new body.”

Cash smirks at me. “No, but when I was younger, I was mostly working behind the scenes. Few people knew me in person, and if they did, they just knew me as my mother’s son. I didn’t make much of an impression back then, and what’s another attractive twenty-something? They’re everywhere, like bottled water, or slaves. Plenty of time has passed. You didn’t recognize me, although I’m sure you saw the story on the news. Presented with a new name and history, I may as well have inhabited a new body for all anyone else is concerned. I’ve had to reinvent myself. Everything I’ve done since my first project got exposed has been part of that. I need to fit the part I’m playing.”

“That’s why you were so harsh,” I realize. “Keeping up appearances. You’ve rarely punished me for anything in private. That’s why you… the other night…”

“I know.” His voice is soft, and if I try really hard, I can detect a trace of regret in it. “I humiliated you the other night, Sascha. You know, I hope, why I did it?”

“Because I was disrespectful,” I answer instantly, without thinking. Slave training goes deep, and it comes out at the strangest times.

“Don’t think
or
answer like a slave,” he orders, staring expectantly. It occurs to me that he’s not demanding obedience; he’s demanding that I work to my potential, that I think critically as he’s always known I could do.

I think a little harder. “Because Torenze demanded it, or could have,” I realize. “Based on your history, he expected you to whip the skin off my back, break my jaw, something of that level.”

My master nods. “I humiliated you so I could avoid the pressure to hurt you badly. I would have warned you beforehand, but I wanted it to seem genuine, and you’re a terrible liar. Also, I was furious at you, and at myself. You couldn’t have known the problems you could have caused, because I didn’t tell you. I would do differently now, but the other night, I was rather vindicated to see you afraid. I suppose that was cruel, but you’ve got to understand the risks inherent in such an outburst.”

I nod. It’s strange to realize that he hurt me like that to avoid hurting me worse in other ways. I can’t decide which I would have preferred, given the choice, but I wasn’t given a choice anyway. “That’s why you didn’t follow up with the gag when we got home.”

“What, did you think I forgot?” My master rolls his eyes. “It was unnecessary. No one was watching, and you knew well enough that you had done wrong. I think you knew that from the moment the words left your mouth.”

I don’t want to ask the next question, but I can’t help myself. He’s sitting here, talking about the horrible treatment that slaves are subjected to, and yet he’s done some of the same to me. “Then what about the other times?”

He studies me for a moment before answering. “You needed to be reminded of your place, Sascha. I had told you politely and it wasn’t getting through. I felt something more severe might get through in its place.”

I glare at him. He doesn’t deserve a response to that.

“You couldn’t be reasoned with, couldn’t understand because you were too busy trying to act like a slave and too full of fear,” my master continues. “I told Bobby once that you were smart enough to know better, and it’s true. If I didn’t think you could hold your tongue, I would never have expected you to.”

It’s like a burning salve on an open wound. It takes some of the sting off, but replaces it with a different kind of pain. If he thought I was just a stupid animal, his treatment made sense, he could be excused. He’s telling me that he knew otherwise, but he hurt me, anyway, repeatedly. “Maybe if you had told me about you plans, I would have been more agreeable.
Master
.”

“I was wrong.” My master looks away as he says it, glancing out the window into the darkness outside. “I was wrong to keep it from you as long as I did. Even when I realized that working with you was easier and more pleasant than working against you, I still didn’t think that something of that level should be shared with a slave. I let that color my decisions, and I don’t think it was wise.”

“You told me about your research, but not about your family,” I remind him, unsure of whether to be grateful to be let in now or angry that I’ve been kept in the dark for so long. “Your mother came over here and put her hands on me, and you still didn’t tell me. I covered for you while she was here, after you tormented me for days, and you
still
didn’t tell me.”

“I know,” he admits. “Old habits die hard. You keep fucking the same things up, putting me at risk, and it infuriates me. It makes me want to hurt you; not talk to you, but I think I’ve tried that enough times. It’s not working any better than your behavior is.”

“You’re kind of repeating the same thing that got you into trouble years ago,” I point out, realizing only after the words leave my mouth how offensive they are.

My master smiles at me. “Yes, and the flaws we have ourselves are often the most annoying in others. It is uncanny how much you remind me of myself at your age, and I promise that doesn’t make me any more likely to go easy on you. It was hard to separate the two at first. Hell, it was hard enough to keep from smacking the attitude off your face on a daily basis.”

I grin, almost in spite of myself. I really am that bad of a liar. “You have the training and expertise to punish or torture me in a thousand ways, and the only thing you’ve done is smack me around a little and beat me with a belt?”

“There was the cleaning thing, too,” he reminds me.

Ah, yes, that time he made me cry every day by working me to death. “That was creative.”

He shrugs. “Pretty standard, actually. Breaks a person down. Of course, I didn’t expect you to call me out on exactly what it was that I was doing to you, calling me inefficient and wasteful and spiteful.”

I shrug. I saw right through it, at the time. I hadn’t been telling him those things to make him stop, I was telling him those things to push him to hurt me, to break out of the cycle. I suppose it worked, just in a different way than I was expecting.

“You were bright enough to figure it out, and you called me on the exact thing I had called my family on years before. You and I think alike, too alike, and I’d rather not see my flaws reflected.”

“I wish I had been punished with a lucrative job and a loaded bank account,” I retort, daring to be offensive. I want to push him again, to see if he’ll turn on me again. He’s letting me in, but is it just a part of a bigger plan?

“I shouldn’t have been so cruel. But again, old habits.”

I nod. He’s not apologizing, but he’s not making excuses either. I feel the same way about how I treated him. “So, what now? Why tell me now; what does it change?”

“I can’t stand hurting you when you don’t have all the information,” he shrugs. “Now, I keep you up to date on what I’m doing. Everything. You deserve that much. You can help me more now that you know everything. You know why I’m so careful, and you know what the stakes are. The full stakes. You can help me play the part in public. No more secrets, no more lies. I want to work with you on this. I might not have intended to buy you, but now that I’ve seen a hint of what you’re capable of, I need you.”

It sounds like he’s offering me the opportunity to be equals, but I know better. I know that anyone who thinks slavery is okay and who can justify beating another person repeatedly doesn’t want to be equals.

“What if I say no?” I challenge.

He frowns. “That is, of course, your decision. But I will say that I’ll start looking for another slave. The slaves I worked with before, the ones I purchased for research… they were considered tainted, corrupted by my interference. They were put down.”

“They were murdered?” I ask, not wanting to believe it.

“Euthanized,” Cash replies, his face blank. “You can’t murder a slave.”

No, not equals. I look at him in horror. The occasional abuse was bad enough; how can he sit here and casually threaten to have me killed in the interest of his research?

“I’d try to keep you safe, Sascha,” he promises. “I like you; I think you have a lot of potential. But this is a dangerous business. You need to be aware of the risks.”

“You didn’t give me a choice to be involved!” I snap.

“No, I didn’t,” he agrees.

I don’t understand how he can be so calm and reserved. He’s just told me these terrible secrets; what’s more, he’s told me they could lead to my death. I’m interested in the research, but is it worth the price?

“Can I think about it?” I ask, studying his face. It’s so much to process; I want the chance to think this through, to consider my options. But his priorities are his research, not me.

“Yes,” he agrees. “I’ll show you more, let you see all of what I do. Then you can make your decision.”

I nod, accepting that. “What about Torenze?”

Cash shrugs. “I hope his fascination with you will fade with time. We need him on our side, Sascha, but I’ll do what I can to keep him away from you. I want him to partner with us, but in the meantime, you have to stop engaging with him. He’ll come up with something far worse for you than what happened the other night, and it might not be for punishment. It might just be for his own sick enjoyment.”

I just stare at him. If he’s willing to work with this monster, what will happen to me if I don’t agree to work with him?

“I told you once that you’d think I was selling out,” Cash reminds me. There is no trace of regret on his face.

I do, but I don’t say anything. Until now, I thought my biggest danger was getting beaten or slapped, or sold to a brothel. Now that I realize exactly what my master is capable of, I’m not sure if those things are so bad. And yet, I’m still interested in the research.

Chapter 7
Going Forward

“What do we do now?” I ask, still trying to digest all the information. There’s so much, I want a day or so to just think about it all, to make all the connections. It’s what I’ve always excelled at, but I can’t do it with him staring at me.

“We start again,” Cash suggests, looking tentatively hopeful. “No more secrets. No more treating you like a dumb slave. And hopefully, once you stop being angry at me, we can be better than we were before. I enjoy your company, Sascha. There are very few people who I say that about. You’re smart enough to work with me, to challenge me, and now you know pretty much everything about me. There’s no one else who has that privilege. I want you to be a bigger part of my life, but more importantly, I want you to be a bigger part of my work. I’ve been limiting both of us.”

I nod. I feel his pressure: his desire to make me his researcher, his hacker, his spy, whatever he wants from me. It’s intriguing, but risky. “Can I see more of it?” I ask, nervous. I’m expecting him to demand some sort of loyalty oath or something before letting me go any further.

“Yes,” he agrees. He takes a step closer to where I’m sitting on the bed with his tablet, and then pauses. “May I sit?”

I nod, moving over to give him some room.

Suddenly, he’s in bed with me, comfortable next to me, like he belongs here. I try not to be too distracted as he pulls up plans and outlines for his research, explaining the testing process to me in great detail as well as the barriers that he’s facing. Some information he can’t access because it’s too heavily guarded; I can get through the barriers in a matter of days. Other information he can’t access because it’s simply not on any network. For those, he needs a spy, someone to listen at events, make sure the right people are interested and willing to pursue the same goals as he has. He’s staging a huge movement, drawing investors, owners of re-education center franchises, researchers, and more. He couldn’t ask me to do this much before; I would have found out his secrets, who his mother is and who he was. He seems pleased when I tell him how easily I can get through at least the technological barriers. He’s even more pleased when I grow more interested, asking him questions about how it will play out, the details, the tests that will be used.