The Superiors (36 page)

Draven murmured assent, and both men drank. Water tasted almost as good as sap to Draven’s parched mouth. “I am only sorry we cannot work together again,” he said. “It has already been profitable for me. Knowing you, and through your association, I am able to do now what I couldn’t have afforded for years to come. I am in your debt.”

“Consider your debt paid, my friend. You saved my life. That’s worth much more than I’m able to express in my report. You’ll be paid the full amount as signed in your contract. One thousand anyas.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I worked on my report some while we traveled. When we arrive back in the city, I’ll file the report and you’ll be able to collect your payment in a few days. I’ll be gone, but I’ll make sure to complete all the paperwork before I go so that you may be rewarded for your service as quickly as possible.”

“Make sure you keep your eyes pointed in the right direction. You’re a talented young man, but you lack the ambition to do as well as you might otherwise. Don’t let your mind entrap you with concerns that are beneath you. And don’t let your soft-hearted nature let anyone take advantage of you.”

“I’m not sure what to say, sir.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just keep your eyes on where you want to be. I’ve seen how gentle you are with these saps, and even the deer in the desert. They’re just animals, soldier. We have evolved, and we must take the advantage we have. Don’t let your pity for them get in the way of success.”

“No sir. I won’t,” Draven said. He thought of how many times he’d turned down the offer to retake the Catcher job. Bonnie would let him come back without a moment of hesitation, but he never did it because he hated that the saps were sent to the blood bank. Perhaps he’d been foolish not to rise above his menial bouncing job because of the animals. The sapiens would always find ways to escape, and they would always go to the blood bank. If he didn’t catch them, someone else would. The escapees ended up at the blood bank either way. And his current job left Draven hovering just above poverty level.

It made sense to put aside his personal issues and remain impartial in a job that he excelled at and that paid enough for the upkeep of livestock. And Catching jobs offered the opportunity for advancement for someone who wanted that. Draven decided he’d talk to Bonnie when he got back. He could do it when he went to retrieve Cali. He’d need a better job when he had livestock to feed.

Draven thought of Byron’s toast to their future, and he smiled. His looked good. He hadn’t regained the health he’d had before the trip, but he was getting better. He didn’t love the job he’d have to take, but he knew the job well and required no further training, and the other Catchers liked and respected him. He was losing his friend, the man who had made all this possible, but he would see him again one day. And he would get Cali. That almost made up for losing a friend.

Chapter Forty-Eight

The ride home took two days and one and a half nights. Draven said his goodbyes to Byron, not feeling quite as optimistic as he had earlier. He had grown accustomed to their board games, their conversations, the wisdom and knowledge of his friend. He had grown to trust his friend’s opinions, to let Byron’s thoughts weigh in on his own decisions. And he had gotten a small taste of what life in the Second Order meant when he had visited Byron’s house and heard his stories.

When his friend departed, Draven’s mood darkened. In his apartment, he found everything just as it had always been for years without end. Nothing had changed in his absence. But he had changed. He had taken the life of another man. He had felt the fear of death tickling the corners of his mind. He had finally found a bit of adventure, a bit of excitement in his dull life. But it had ended. Byron had gone, and Draven had no advocate, no one to ask government agencies for his assistance. No one to speak on his behalf and convince the bureaucracy that he could do a competent job on a mission meant for a Second, or that he made a worthy companion.

Byron had left on a new, exciting adventure, and Draven had come back to his old life, his menial job, his stuffy apartment, his unsatisfying pairings with women. Even thinking about purchasing Cali, which usually lifted his spirits, seemed empty tonight. She was just a sap. Yes, he’d have access to food on a regular, convenient basis. He wouldn’t have to reset his ration card every evening. He could have the best food imaginable every single night. But she wouldn’t change his life all that much.

She didn’t make life more meaningful. She didn’t offer adventure, excitement, or friendship. She wasn’t a mentor, a lover, or an advocate. She was just dinner. And perhaps he’d grow tired of her once he didn’t consider her a rare indulgence, once he got used to her and took her for granted as people inevitably took anything they had for a long period.

In his dark mood, Draven found himself thinking about Byron’s story. Before the trip he had known very little about the Enforcer’s life. He knew of Byron’s family, his skill at chess, his dislike for humans and their exploitation. He had come to understand much more about his friend, about the reasons for his feelings on these things.

Before Byron, Draven hadn’t had someone to talk to every night for years. He considered whether he should form an attachment with Hyoki and live with her. Over the last two months, he had grown used to the company of having someone around, and now he wandered aimlessly in his apartment, wondering what he had done in his solitary time for so long. With no one to talk to, his mind kept returning to Ander. He didn’t like to think about that night.

When he checked his messages, he found that Byron had called to say he’d submitted the report on the success of the mission. Draven tried to regain his excitement about Cali, but it had dulled under the gloom of his current mood. He knew things didn’t often go wrong in major ways. Sometimes things didn’t work out for him, but usually in the small, dull ways that, over the years, disappointed him into a state of discontented inertia. His restlessness in this instance stemmed from having undergone something momentous and then having to go back to his monotonous life. After living such a large experience, he had to squeeze back into the small existence he’d always had and ignore the feeling that it no longer fit.

He wanted to go to Cali, but he knew he should wait. He had to have the money first, so that he could surprise her when he went to her. After a while, he found himself smiling again when he thought of her. Perhaps he would ask her before he took her. She wasn’t likely to say yes, since she didn’t like him much. But perhaps he would ask anyway.

Everyone knew happy sapiens proved more productive and easier to care for. They didn’t get sick as much, and they worked harder so their masters didn’t have to buy them as much food. He would keep his sap happy. Just because he took a job as Catcher didn’t mean he had to give up everything he believed. He would still treat his own sapiens better than other Superiors did. And he’d close the site of insertion every single time, no matter his hurry.

By the time sleep claimed him that day, Draven had worked himself into a better mood again. He had a plan, and that anchored him and eased his disappointment at the end of his mission. He hoped Byron had left a strong enough recommendation that another Enforcer might take notice and call on him again.

When he awoke, he checked his messages and his account, hoping for a large deposit. No messages, no large sums in his account. He thought about unpacking from his trip, but lacked the patience. He needed to get out. So he went to work. When he left work, he checked his account again and found nothing. He started to grow anxious, but Byron had said it could take up to a week for the paperwork to go through. Draven thought about Cali, and a craving for her particular brand of sap began. He forced it away with unusual ferocity, ate at Estrella’s, and accepted Hyoki’s invitation to stay at her place that day.

After they had satisfied each other, Hyoki stood and lit a cigarette. She lay on top of the sheet with nothing on but an ash that had fallen from the tip of her cigarette to her left breast. Like all Superior women, she’d had every hair below her head removed. That service alone made up half the beauty industry. No one wanted to look like a sap.

Draven looked at her petite frame, so small and boyish compared with the current fashion of women to have curves in every possible place. He rather liked that she hadn’t yielded to the pressures and gotten plastic surgery. Lots of women did—especially kept women.

He sighed and turned to Hyoki. He regretted what he had to do. But he’d never stop comparing himself to Mr. Vitrola and thinking of all he couldn’t give his girl. “I think this should be the last time we keep company,” he said.

She sat up and drew hard on her cigarette so the end glowed red in the dark bedroom. “You think I should be ashamed? Which man you don’t like?”

“The one who kept you.”

“Which one?”

Draven got up. He hadn’t expected a big fight with this one. She had more class than Lira. “I might have forgiven you Mr. Vitrola,” he said, pulling on his shorts while he spoke. “But I see you’ve been kept more than once.”

He laughed and pulled on his pants. “No. I just don’t find a woman who wants to be taken care of is the kind I want as an attachment. I very much like you, Hyoki. I just disagree with your…principles.”

“What woman would turn down a good, easy life? Maybe if you had met a Second who wanted you, you would be mistress, too.”

“I don’t believe in being kept by a rich woman and being her little concubine. I’m my own man. And I want a woman who believes the same. I don’t want to have to try to keep someone and take care of her. I want a partner, not a mistress.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t expect you to care for me,” she said. “I can take care of myself. I have job, same as you, right? I never ask you for money, for clothes or hairnets or jewelry. I never ask you for cigarettes. I know which men can keep me, and which ones want an equal.”

“Then it seems you’re only playing a part to be who I want you to be. You’re not your own woman. If you stopped pretending, who are you then, Hyoki? Perhaps you’re no one at all.”

“You’re a bad man.” She threw her lit cigarette at him. “Mr. Vitrola, the other Seconds who keep me, they take good care of me. And they value me, treat me better than you.”

“I’d imagine.” Draven smirked and picked up the cigarette and drew on it. “I have enjoyed your company, but I didn’t value you for what you could give me or what I could give you. You’re a lovely woman. I hope you find a nice Second to keep you in good society.” He slipped on his shoes and searched around the room. He couldn’t seem to find his undershirt.

Hyoki sat back and lit another cigarette. “You’re right,” she said after a few fast drags. “You never can give me what a Second can.”

“Good. Then I hope you’ll stop by if you get lonely some morning. And bring me my shirt, if you find it. It’s fine-spun cotton. I quite like it.”