The Superiors (16 page)

They served no purpose as far as he could tell. They couldn’t work, they didn’t produce anything, not even sap—they were less useful than sapiens. And yet, Byron’s children would outrank Draven by default. If they ordered him to do something, by law he must obey. Draven liked being part of the Hundred Year Peace, but sometimes he wished it would end simply so a Fourth Order could be created and he could rise from the bottom. But he would always be subject to the law, and the law stated he must obey all Second Order commands, even if the member of the Second Order happened to have been five years old when she evolved.

“So your children take care of your saps?” he asked his host.

“Not take care of them, usually. Sapiens can take care of themselves pretty well, except when they get sick. They don’t need much—eating, sleeping, water, and toileting. These things they’re capable of on their own. The children are bringing in the sap for our dinner.”

“You don’t tap them directly?”

“Not if I can help it. I’ve grown to where I can hardly stand to touch them. The children don’t mind, though, and the ones I have are well-trained and give what’s needed without argument. Have you worked with the other kinds of livestock before, Draven?”

“Yes, sir. Once I inspected incoming goats, and I’ve tended the llamas once, and many of the vicunas and sheep and alpacas over the years.”

“It sounds like you’ve had an interesting array of jobs.”

Draven shrugged. He’d never have a good job, no matter how many different ones he had. He’d always have Third jobs. “I like animals, sir. And I like what they give us. I’ve worked in all stages of the process, from the animals to the clothes in the store.”

“I guess that’s an admirable thing, a person who can be so adaptable. I myself could never stomach working with smelly animals, no matter what they give us.”

“After a while you stop noticing the smell. They just smell…natural. It goes with them, like the smell of sap goes with saps. And I like that we can use their coats without harming them.”

Byron laughed. “Ah, so you’ve never worked with the pigs.”

“No, never. As far as I know, saps take care of their own pigs.”

“I guess that’s so. A sap is just one step up from a pig or cow, you know. They’re like cows who milk themselves. It does make things convenient for our family or we wouldn’t have them at all,” Byron said. “The children are just bringing in the food now. Come, let’s eat.”

“I’d like to see the living arrangements you have made for the saps. Perhaps after we’ve eaten?”

Byron gave him a sharp look and his eyebrows drew together. Draven cursed himself silently. He hadn’t known the proper etiquette for asking to view a man’s livestock—perhaps the question itself showed a lack of manners.

“Are you thinking of procuring livestock for yourself?” Byron asked.

“I have toyed with the idea lately. If I could save enough money, perhaps.”

“We’ll talk more after dinner. I have something to share that might be of interest to you regarding such a purchase,” Byron said quietly, his frown still in place.

Draven, uncomfortable after his obvious offense, hoped he would not be punished monetarily for his unintentional misstep. But that would likely happen. He could never quite manage to get ahead. Sometimes he started saving, but something like this always came up, and there went his savings once more.

The five Superiors sat at a large table and talked while they sipped their drinks. The children sat quiet, and while his hosts talked, Draven found his mind wandering to the children from time to time, wondering what it must be like for them to be forever stuck in that stage of their lives, a stage he had found particularly unsatisfying. After hundreds of years, Byron’s children seemed to have learned obedience, but Draven wondered if they were happy children or only docile.

He also wondered how their parents felt about them. Having children forever underfoot, the same children of the same age, struck him as hugest inconvenience. And unlike a wife, a man couldn’t very well leave the children and find something he liked better. Draven wondered if the parents regretted bringing their children through the evolution process. The girl, who looked older, kept staring at him, which he found unnerving. Their very presence made him uneasy—the way they sat so quiet and stared with their creepy big eyes and drank their sap like little robots.

“Would you like some wine?” Marisol asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Oh. If you’re having some, perhaps just a sip for me, thank you, sir,” he said, trying to remember the last time he’d drunk anything besides sap. He accepted the glass of clear yellowish liquid and held it up when Byron toasted.

“To our new friend, and many more mornings like these.”

They drank and Draven had to fight not to spit the bitter liquid back into his glass. After years without drinking anything but sap and an occasional glass of water, the wine tasted terrible. He managed to get it down without letting his face show his displeasure. After the pleasantries at dinner, the children took the glasses to the sink and began washing, and Byron motioned for Draven to follow him. Draven started to relax a bit when he couldn’t see the silent children anymore.

“I have something I want to discuss with you in private,” Byron said.

“Yes, sir. Of course.” Draven followed Byron into a smaller room lined with digital picture frames interspersed with antique electronic devices. Byron sat behind a large desk and made his fingers into a tent in front of him on the desk. Draven sat opposite him, feeling as if he’d come to an interview completely unprepared. Byron watched him for a few minutes.

“So, how have you been the past few days?” Byron asked.

“I’ve been well, thank you, sir. And yourself? Any progress on the case involving Ander?”

“Not progress exactly. We did close another restaurant the other night, and when we were filling out the paperwork, we discovered that Ander rents the place. Another man owns it, so we hadn’t noticed it before in our investigation. We’re looking further to see if his name is connected to any other establishments in the area. This is the file on the restaurant we closed the other day,” Byron said, opening a drawer and pulling out a flat black screen about the size of his hand. He put it on the table in front of him and turned it on. He studied Draven a moment before pushing the file across the desk towards him.

“Do you want to know the name of the place we closed?”

“I guess so,” Draven said, his stomach tight with dread.

“Sap Heaven. It’s one of those seedy places in the South End. Really a dump. Nearly dead humans, all overdrawn and prostituted. Some of them had been rented out for days.”

“Yes, sir.” Draven kept his eyes on the desk in front of him. He knew how his friend felt about these things—even more strongly than he did. And his friend also knew the illegality of consorting with humans, and his friend also had the power to arrest him.

Byron remained silent and after a while Draven ventured a glance at him. He had his elbows on the desk and his hands in that tented position again, under his chin this time. He seemed to be contemplating his next move with as much thought as he did on the chess board.

At last Draven spoke. “I do not have the girl—the human, I mean. I did go into the place.” He stopped, knowing Byron could ask for the information from anyone, that he could find a lie easily, even if his training failed him. “I went in, but none of the humans were fit to draw from. They all appeared weak and over-drawn, and some of them were diseased. I had already quit the inspector job or I would have called it in that night.”

He looked at Byron, who sat still, his face smooth and blank. He would let Draven make his case or back himself into a corner, one of the two. Draven had never been a great orator, but he did his best not to worsen the situation.

“The sapien I took from the place was the worst—almost dead, and two people on her at the same time even while she was unconscious. I just…pitied her. I am fond of animals, and although I find touching them unpleasant, as you do, I do not dislike them as you do. I took her to the Confinement and left her there.”

“Two nights later.”

“Yes. I was quite tired the morning I got her, and I let her sleep on my floor while I slept. I thought she might recover strength and I’d take her back that evening, but I overslept. I worked the next night and left her there.”

“At your apartment, inside?”

“Yes. I agree that they do have a strong odor. My place smelled quite strongly of her. I even used my own money to feed her the next night, and when she seemed better, I took her to the Confinement.”

“Why didn’t you just report the place?”

“When a place like that gets shut down, more spring up in its place. I’ve seen it many times as an inspector. I thought they might suspect me if I reported them. I…may have been angry when I took the sap from the restaurant.”

“But you weren’t afraid to return her to the Confinement instead of the restaurant? Then they would have known for sure you had turned them in. The Confinement would have made the call themselves if you brought them a nearly-lifeless sapien from a restaurant.”

“Indeed. I thought about this, and I thought I would bring her back to Sap Heaven and act quite grateful to them, pretend I had enjoyed her company more than I had, and then call the health department to go down and check out the place. Then they wouldn’t have cause to suspect I’d turned them in. But when I went to return her, the place was in a raid, so I took her to the Confinement.” He had no reason to lie about it. The truth proved less tangled, less messy. Draven would accept punishment for his actions, probably lose his meager savings paying the fine, and that would be the end of it. He only hated to lose a friend as well.

“Did you have unlawful carnal knowledge of the sapien?”

“No,” Draven said quickly, almost shuddering at the thought of all that warm flesh. “No, sir, I did not. I only took pity on the poor creature. She was suffering greatly when I brought her home. I only meant to give her a chance to recuperate.”

“But she was much stronger when I brought her back than when I found her. I did not overdraw her. I know I should have returned her right away, sir.”

“Did you lend out this homo-sapien to anyone else?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. I hope you’re not lying to me, and I don’t believe you are. I ordered her brought to a doctor like the others from the restaurant. But her examination will be of a different nature. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad I’ve made myself clear. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw your name on the register for renting out a prostituted sapien. I ordered her to be checked when she was admitted. If I find that you were consorting with a sapien in a sexual manner, I will make sure you are aptly punished.”

“Yes, sir. If anything was done to her, it was before I removed her.”

“The doctor will be able to tell us more. I hope for both our sakes that you’re telling the truth. I’ve never been so wrong about a friend, if you’re lying right now. But because you are a friend, I’m willing to overlook this matter entirely if the clinic confirms what you told me. I do believe you’re more soft-hearted than need be regarding sapiens, but I would let this one time go by unpunished. Lesson learned, right, inspector?”

“Yes, Enforcer, sir. Thank you. It will not happen again.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Now, I would understand your actions as your friend, because I understand how your mind works, Draven, and I’ve looked at your record and know your feelings about sapiens. But if you are lying…if I find that you have been dishonest in your account, I will make sure you face the maximum penalty for all charges. Because you were my friend. Do we understand each other on this matter as well?”

“Of course, sir.” Draven had befriended a member of the higher Order. That friend would feel betrayed if Draven had lied, and duped for believing those lies. Draven hoped desperately that the doctor who examined Cali proved as competent as the Enforcer thought, and that nothing untoward had happened to her before he’d taken her, nothing that could be blamed on him.

What had he been thinking? Life had been moving along as it always had, calm and comfortable, and he had committed an act so colossally stupid—risking his own livelihood, fines, even jail time—so he could save a sap. It almost amused him when he thought about it. For so little, he had risked everything.

For just a few sips of sap, he had risked his job, his friendship, and his reputation. Was he really that primitive, that he would risk everything to eat? But that wasn’t exactly it. He hadn’t taken risks to feed himself. He had taken risks to get exactly what he wanted, to eat the very best, something better than he’d had before. It seemed petty and superficial when he thought about it. But if he thought honestly about it, he hadn’t taken her just for the taste of her sap. It had been a bit about her.

Chapter Twenty-One

Draven went to see Cali again a few days later. He had met with Byron once, but the Enforcer maintained a reserved air. He hadn’t heard back from the sapien clinic about Cali, and Draven could only hope that once he had, things would go back to normal. Since his friend Anton had moved to Belarus, he hadn’t had much opportunity to enjoy the company of others. Too often he found himself preferring solitude to the strain of engaging in social affairs.

He enjoyed socializing when he went out, but he found the getting out part too tiresome. Sometimes it just took more energy than it was worth. Going to the Confinement, that was easy. He didn’t have to get dressed up, to impress anyone, to make an effort to come across in a certain way. And of course he always knew what to expect and that he’d get what he wanted at the Confinement. He could just throw on a pair of linen pants and a t-shirt and go over there. So that’s what he did.