The Renegades (The Superiors) (30 page)

“Draven?”
Meyer leaned back and studied Byron for a moment. “The name does sound
familiar.”

“Cut
the act,” Byron said, losing patience. He felt like the person who brings news
that’s already been heard, and is allowed to go on telling the whole story in
great and exciting detail before his audience says,
Yeah, I know. I already
heard
.

“I
would, Enforcer, but it’s no act. I honestly have no idea…oh, now wait a
moment. I do know that name. You don’t mean Draven Castle, do you?” When Byron
didn’t respond, Meyer laughed and slapped his knee. “Oh, you can be sure your
sap is a mess by now. Probably dead.”

“What’s
that supposed to mean?”

“Draven Castle? He’s well known for his various…indiscretions, shall we say?”

“Indiscretions?”

“See
here, he’s a good member of society, contributes, works as much as any Third.
He’s well liked, so he gets away with things. Charming, they say.”

“Who
says that?”

“Oh,
you know. Everyone.”

“So
you admit, you do know him?”

“I
haven’t had the pleasure of making his acquaintance, but his reputation
precedes him.”

“How
so?”

“I
hear things here and there, on my travels. This Draven character has had
various assignments where our paths crossed minutes after we did. Never met him
in person, mind you. Just heard tell.”

“Heard
tell what?” Byron asked through clenched teeth. The boy was obviously enjoying
his knowledge of something Byron had failed to recognize.

“Just
that he’s had near-misses with the law but talked his way out of the charges. He’s
stolen before, you know. Told the owner he found her sapien wandering on the
street. But he kept her for two days before giving her back, and then she was
overdrawn.”

Byron
considered this, remembering when he’d learned that Draven had kept Cali for three days. How had he not heard rumors, with all the time he’d spent with that
cheap Third
backar chodu
before Draven betrayed him in return for his
kindness?

“Oh,
and he draws from babies, but he hides this particular fancy in public. A few
people have noticed, though.”

“I
notice you prefer saplings, too. That’s no crime.”

“No,
but it won’t make you popular. And I don’t draw from babies. Magpie is eight
human years old.”

“It’s
not so different.”

“Some
people look down on that preference more than others. I think it’s right cruel.
But like I said, I’ve never met the man. Only heard things.”

“I
hardly think that’s cause for a reputation.” Byron found himself disappointed,
not in the way of an Enforcer who has failed to gain evidence, but in a more
petty way, like a malicious gossip who has failed to hear anything salacious
enough to circulate.

“There
are other stories, too. He’s tried to get out of paying for extra services from
mistresses, he’s a pretty-boy who likes men, he’s a fetishist, he overdraws
saps by just a bit when he feeds, not enough to be charged, mind you, but just
a bit too much. People notice him and they like to talk about someone
noticeable. Every time he does something out of line, people put it away in
their files to pass along later in conversation, and after a while, it’s a
reputation.”

“I
took him on an assignment before he turned traitorous. He’s not that
fascinating.”

“Yes,
well, sex perverts do tend to fascinate us, don’t they?”

Byron
straightened in his seat. “What?”

“Sex
perverts. You know, Superiors who get their rocks off for homo-sapiens.”

“Yes,
I know what a sex pervert is. But you’re mistaken. You’re thinking of someone
else.”

“I
don’t think so. Thin, dark guy, attractive, great hair by any standards? He got
caught with a sap in Vegas just last year, but apparently he talked his way out
of it. Told the Enforcers some rubbish about doing her a favor. I don’t know
the whole of it. Just hearsay.”

As
Byron listened this freak child, he found himself starting to believe the
story. After all, Draven had once told Byron that he’d rented Cali for the
night only because he felt sorry for her, because he’d wanted to help when she
was overdrawn.

But
Byron had insisted a doctor examine the sap to make sure Draven hadn’t done
anything untoward. Obviously, Meyer had found out and was rubbing the knowledge
in his face, trying to make a fool of him.

“No
Enforcer would buy that,” Byron said. “We’re trained better.”

“As
I said, everything has a price.”

“Are
you implying that we’d take bribes, and from a lowly Third?”

“Of
course not. I’m sure you wouldn’t. But some Enforcers aren’t so honest as you,
Byron. Besides, there are lesser men who could be bribed, other Thirds who
would corroborate a story.”

Like
sapien doctors at the clinic.

Byron
had checked Draven’s files when he’d taken an interest in the Third. In the
fifty years Draven had lived in North America, he’d worked for the Confinement
in some capacity nearly the entire time. He’d worked there as a catcher off and
on for fifteen years, and at the clinic itself for several different five year
stretches. In addition, he’d been a livestock handler at the Confinement and
worked at admissions, with shorter stints in the records and purchases
departments. All menial jobs held by any number of Thirds at any one time. All
jobs where one could make the acquaintance of a sapien doctor.

If
Draven had known Byron would arrest him, he could have easily contacted a
receptive doctor, perhaps one who owed him a favor. Thirds were always
groveling at the feet of others, regardless of order, ingratiating themselves
in the most sickening way, their hopeful yet conspiratorial expressions
pathetic enough to disgust even the most indulgent Second. As an Enforcer,
Byron had wasted countless hours and days mediating the constant squabbles
arising between the lazy Thirds who failed to fulfill agreements and the humanoid
Thirds who believed words alone constituted a contractual obligation. They were
hardly more civilized than saps. Some of them surely paid back the favors they
owed, though. And Byron had told Draven that he planned to have Cali examined after Draven had rented her. For
three days
.

Rage
swelled in Byron’s chest at the mere thought of it, those depraved sickos who
preyed on weak and helpless animals, sometimes killing them, so they could
indulge their perverse sense of power. More often than not, these atrocities
were perpetuated by Thirds who felt powerless, and rightly so. Having no power
in society, they found something with even less power to torture. That’s how
they all thought. Worthless Third Order leeches. Should have all been sent to
die like they were meant to. That was the sole purpose of their existence.

And
now this. Not only did this ten-year-old child mock him openly, but his own
friend had played him beautifully. He couldn’t bear to credit a Third with such
a crafty maneuver. But the only person who knew of Draven’s little three-day
holiday with Cali was Byron. Meyer could only have found out from Draven.

“I
should be going,” Byron said. He stood without waiting for Meyer’s response.

“Come
back anytime,” Meyer said. “I’ve gossiped like a lady today, but I have to say,
I thoroughly enjoyed it. I’m only sorry you had to find out from me that your
friend is a pervert as well as a traitorous thief. That’s what we get for
befriending the commoners, eh? Stick to our own, that’s what I always say.”

Byron
resisted the urge to bludgeon the smug gleam of triumph from the boy’s eyes.
“Maybe you’re right.”

“Of
course I’m right, Enforcer. I’m always right.”

His
goodbyes finished, Byron drove back to his apartment in a dark mood. Somehow
Draven had blinded him to his deceitfulness. Byron considered himself an
excellent judge of character, but Draven had fooled him from start to finish.
If Byron had heard rumors, he would have used greater caution when dealing with
the Third, but no one had said a word about his young underling.

Meyer
certainly knew plenty of stories. He probably mingled with enough Third Order
scum to hear every salacious detail. Byron stayed in his own order for the most
part. They wouldn’t waste time gossiping about Third Order canaille.

The
longer Byron considered the possibility of Draven’s bloodbagging tendencies,
the more likely they seemed. How had he trusted that Draven would rent a sapien
as a prostitute and not use her as such? Draven’s violation explained the female’s
infertility, too. Superior strength proved far too great for a human to
withstand. Damaging something inside and rendering a sap infertile was the
least that could happen.

Worse
than being fooled, Byron had let Draven coax out his horror story, had told him
about the one incident he’d rather never remember. Draven had waited until
Byron got good and drunk, and then he’d dragged the story out of him. Maybe
he’d considered telling Byron the truth, but he’d wanted to ensure that Byron
would not arrest him for the despicable things he’d done before he confessed.
Once he’d gotten Byron’s story, he’d decided to keep his own twisted tales to
himself.

Byron
cursed in disgust. This was his thanks for offering a benevolent hand to a
Third. He should have known better than to trust one of them. Thirds were
worthless, less than worthless—sucking strength and order and dignity from the
fragile government the Second Order had worked so hard to install. The
government had established Orders to keep everyone in their proper place, to ensure
that everyone had a part in it, even society’s dredges. And those lowlifes
turned around and committed treasonous acts as a matter of course.

Byron
decided to call Lapin and Lathan one more time before he took matters into his
own hands. After all, he had sworn to uphold and enforce the Law. Without it,
the world would be no better off than when humans ran it. Byron considered for
only a short time. After all, his assignment had gone nowhere, contacting Meyer
could get him suspended, and his boss seemed determined to block Byron’s every
attempt to make something happen around the shithole of Princeton. Meanwhile,
Draven had robbed a Second of his most valuable possession. He had stolen and
violated not just any sapien, but Byron’s own personal favorite. He flagrantly
broke the Law, and no one did a souldamned thing to stop him.

Byron’s
duty as an Enforcer, as a member of the Second Order, and as a Superior itself
was to protect that Law against such outrages and enact justice upon those who
spurned it.

Chapter 42

Draven
stumbled from the tent, his eyelids fluttering in a vain attempt to block out
the dazzling sunlight. He had opened the tent without thinking, imagining evening
approached. Otherwise, he would not have awakened. He never awoke before
evening unless something roused him. Closing his eyes against the light that
left him completely blind, he listened, heard nothing. Scented, savored…everything.
Cali’s scent saturated him after sharing a tent with her, and in his initial
confusion, still clouded with sleep and shocked at the assault of sunlight on
his unshaded eyes, he could not determine how much of her scent emanated from
him.

Although
he usually enjoyed this perfume, now the prevalence of her scent in this
unfamiliar place rendered his scenting ability useless as well as his sight.
Panic swelled in his chest. Where had she gone? If he called her name, would
someone hear him, someone besides Cali? Or had she left of her own accord?

If
she had attempted to run, she would be caught before she died of exposure.
Anyone who saw a fleeing sap would capture her, as he had the first time they
met, when she’d been only a child. The first thing she’d tell her captor was
where Draven had hidden. He should leave before then, perhaps before nightfall.
But the sun on the snow negated that option. He had no choice but to wait, and
hope the glare of sun on snow would immobilize others as it had him.

A
cracking noise startled him, and he spun towards it, forcing one eye open the
narrowest slit. Squinting fiercely against the brightness that bore through his
skull like a drill bit, he detected only the outline of a huge mountain of
trash, glittering malignly in the sun. He threw back the flap of the tent and
dove in, grappled in the pocket of the backpack until he found his sunshades. Out
again in a moment, he scanned the heap, his body alert and tensed to spring. Though
he could see a bit now, he still could not see what had awakened him from the
depth of his most exhausted sleep, or what had caused the wet breaking sound
he’d heard only seconds before.

“Cali?”
he called out tentatively, and then louder. Perhaps she’d gone to relieve
herself and a wild animal had attacked her. They sometimes found homes in
places such as these. He caught a whiff of Cali’s scent and stumbled towards
it, his vision still far from accurate. Through the film of the sunshades, he
could see the outline of everything in addition to sensing the shape of nearby
objects. Then he spotted it.

Amid
the blinding snowdrifts, a rough gash wound its way up the slope before him. He
started forward, fumbling his way up the heap in pursuit. A blast of wind
picked up a layer of snow and threw the frozen crystals into his face. He wiped
a forearm across his face to clear the droplets from his shades. Another sheet
of blowing snow rose from the far side of the pile, danced across the steep
surface and flung itself at him, stinging his exposed skin. He scrambled forward
a few steps, then began sliding backwards, having upset a cascade of laminate
flooring scraps. The wet sheets slid from their heap, dumping Draven and a
small avalanche of snow and trash before the tent’s opening. Draven leapt to his
feet and clawed his way up the heap once more, using the path laid bare by the
sliding trash.

Unearthed
from the protective layer of snow, the endlot’s cacophony of scents invaded his
nostrils, mold and plaster and chemicals and glue and rot and paint, all of it
wet from the melting of the last snowfall. Most of the trash in this sector
related to construction—crumbling sheets of gypsum board, reels of flaking
plastic as tall as Draven’s shoulders, worn-out insulation, siding and roofing
strips and sheets, giant books of fabric samples, carpet samples, wallcover
samples.

“Cali?”
Draven called. “Cali, where are you?”

She
never left the tent during the day except for short trips to relieve herself. Certainly
she never strayed out of earshot. Had she run for fear he’d send her back to
Princeton?

Cresting
the mountain of trash at last, he called out again. This time Cali’s voice
answered, very near. He turned to find her picking her way over the heap
towards him.

“What?
What is it?” she asked, glancing around nervously.

“What
are you doing?” Draven asked, noticing the soggy folder clutched under her arm.
“Why are you out here?”

“Is
something wrong?” she asked. “You sounded scared.”

“Alarmed,”
he corrected her. “I was alarmed at waking up to find you gone. I thought
something happened to you. What are you doing out here?”

“That’s
it? I thought a tracker found us or something. I just needed to pee, and then I
saw all this great stuff. What is this place?”

“As
I said, it’s an endlot.”

“Yeah,
but you said people throw away trash here, junk. This stuff is great.”

“Cali,” he said, taking hold of both her shoulders. “You can’t just leave while I’m
sleeping. Something could happen to you. What would I do without you?”

“What
could happen to me?” she asked, smiling. “You told me yourself that no
Superiors would be out during the day, and I sure haven’t seen any. Not even a
car far way. And unless some runaway comes through, no humans will be here,
either. So who’s going to see me? What do you think is going to happen?”

“Oh,
I don’t know.” Draven ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t
like it.”

“Well,
you don’t have to like it,” she said. “But you’ll have to get used to it. I
can’t sleep all day, even when it’s dark inside the tent, just like you can’t stay
awake all day every day. I’ll sleep at night, and I’ll keep watch during the
day so you can sleep. And if anything happens, I’ll wake you up right away.”

Draven
did not answer.

“We’re
going to live here, right? This is our new home.”

“Perhaps,
for a bit,” he admitted.

“Why
can’t we stay? You said when we left the roof, you’d find a place we could
live. And this place is perfect.”

“I
want to give you a real home, an apartment. I don’t want you sleeping in a tent
in an endlot.”

“Please
can we stay? It’s great here. There’s so much stuff you wouldn’t believe it. I
mean, look at all this carpet,” she said, opening the folder to reveal pages of
moldering carpet samples. “It would probably cover a whole apartment floor.”

“It’s…rotting.”

“I’ve
never lived anywhere with carpet,” she said in a small voice. She glanced up at
Draven from under her lashes, then quickly dropped her eyes to her fingertips,
which skimmed across the surface of the carpet square.

He
sighed. “Fine, bring it back to the tent.”

“Thank
you so much.” They started back, Draven holding Cali’s arm to steady her on the
shifting debris. “Listen to me. Okay?” she said. “Nothing is going to happen
during the day, so you can sleep and I’ll collect things. That way I’m not just
sitting around being a burden to you. If we have to leave, I’ll sleep during
the day like you while we’re traveling. But now this makes more sense.” She
paused, then added, “I want to fix up our new home. Can I? Please?”

“Oh,
alright,” Draven said, shaking his head. “Can you stay where you can see the
tent, though? Until I get used to the idea and I know it’s safe.”

“Sure.
Yeah, I can do that.”

“Alright.
Let me carry those,” he said, scooping the soggy book from Cali’s arms. They
picked their way over the snow-laden trash towards the tent. A few times when
Cali began to slide, Draven caught her arm, and he managed to keep his feet. Once
there, he set the thick book beside the tent.

“Cali...”

“What?”

He
shook his head.

“What?”

“Only…do
not climb the heaps. Please. They shift. I’d rather not awaken to find you
beneath one.”

“Okay.
That’s fine. Don’t worry so much. I’ll be okay. I just want to be doing
something. This is the first time since we left that I have something useful to
do. Just let me have it, okay?”

He
looked at her a moment, trying to think of some way to convince her to stay
with him in the tent. The dangers of the day weren’t many for homo-sapiens,
though. Even as he opened his mouth to protest her going out alone, he knew he would
not prevent it. Her eyes shone with a light he hadn’t seen since he’d taken her
from the garden, quite some time ago. For a moment, he was reminded of the
child she had been, the child whose touch made him squeamish but whose sap so
enticed him. He nodded. “Just don’t make it too…human.”

Before
he could turn away, she rushed at him and threw her arms about his neck. “Thank
you. Thank you so much,” she said, her arms tight around him. “I’ll make our
home look so good you won’t even know it’s not an apartment. I promise.”

“Do
not make promises,” he said. “I’ve fulfilled none of mine.”

He
detached himself from her arms, though her closeness only made him want to be
closer, to lift her wrist to his lips and be inside her for a moment and let
her spill inside him…

“So,
I guess I’ll…just…I mean…start on this…?” she said, looking at everything but
him.

“Yes.
Yes, of course. I’ll take some sleep. Already I’ve been in the sun too long... Right.
I’ll just be…if you need me…”

“Okay.”

They
both turned away at the same moment. Draven ducked into the tent, zipped it,
and lay on his sleep sack pondering what had just happened, scrutinizing the
strange tugging inside him, while at the same time not daring to examine it too
closely. The suspicion that he would rather not know after all crept over him.
He rolled over and pulled the string to zip himself inside his sleep sack, into
the familiar comfort of darkness where nothing strange or unknown happened,
where everything remained as it should.

He
awoke when Cali entered the tent. Though she shivered and her lips had discolored
in the cold, her eyes sparkled above bright, wind-burned cheeks. He’d never
seen a smile so radiant.

“Mm,
how was your day?” he mumbled, dragging himself into wakefulness.

“So
great you wouldn’t believe it,” she said. “I’ve never been somewhere so heaven.
You wouldn’t believe what you can find if you dig under the snow. This is so
perfect, can we stay here forever?”

“You’re
freezing.”

“No,
I’m good. Just my hands are a little cold, but it’s warm in here. I’m so happy.
You can’t imagine all the stuff in here. I don’t even know what most of it’s
for.”

“I’m
certain I don’t either, but I can tell you what it’s not for, and that’s
eating. Come and let me have you.”

She
laughed and scooted beside him, pulling her hair away from her neck. She’d already
squiggled into her mummy bag, and Draven had to pull it down a bit to find her
throat. Once he’d penetrated the skin, he lay still, letting her sap drift into
him as slowly as it wanted to flow. She also lay quiet, letting him stroke her
until he finished.

“I
could do that all day,” he said, releasing his hold on her.

“Don’t
look at what I’m doing yet, okay? I want to surprise you.”

“Very
well,” he said. “Will you take sleep now?”

“No,
it’s not even dark yet. And I’m hungry.”

“I
will have to procure some food for you.” He no longer felt the slightest guilt
at this necessity. When he’d arrived in Princeton, stealing food for himself
had caused him more than a bit of mental anguish. He pitied the saps he drew
from, who likely already fed their masters all they could afford to lose, and
the owners, most of whom likely felt the constant longing for more that he’d
lived with for the past hundred years. In addition, the shame of having to
steal, of taking what did not belong to him, of stealing from working members
of society while he skulked in shadows and did nothing to return the debt he
owed the government for his life, had gnawed at him. But somewhere along the
way, that had changed.

Since
stealing Cali, he’d become not only a criminal out of necessity but a traitor
to his people and his nation. Stealing her food added such a minor offense to
such a great list of infractions that he hardly noticed what would have once
seemed a serious matter. Now, he regarded the Law not as a necessity that held
together the fabric of society, but as his natural predator. He remembered what
was illegal only so he could more strenuously avoid being seen committing these
acts, not because of any qualms about committing them. The Law meant little
more to him now than wolves or train outlet hubs—not something to be obeyed,
but rather something to be feared and avoided. So he avoided it.

Though
full dark had not yet fallen, he dressed and bid Cali farewell. Outside, the
clear sky hinted at the brutal cold of the coming night. He would have liked to
make a fire for Cali, but they had nothing to burn. He added fuel to his mental
list of supplies she would need while in the endlot.

The
lot lay east of the city, beyond the production and transfiguration sectors and
the residential sector at the outskirts. Turning north, he circled the city, following
the direction that led to nicer houses. He knew the general layout of most
cities, that the houses grew smaller to the south and larger to the north,
where Seconds lived and worked. Scouring their neighborhoods proved difficult.
After scaling several fences, Draven found little cover inside the neighborhoods.
The houses offered the only protection from passing cars.

During
the night, most Superiors worked. However, many worked from home, especially in
the Second Order neighborhoods. In addition, kept women or friends often lingered
in the houses after the owners departed. Although at times they made sounds
that gave away their presence, oftentimes Draven could not determine which
houses had occupants. He could not savor Superiors as he could humans—and he
could savor plenty of humans in the affluent neighborhoods he had chosen. Many houses
featured detached sapien housing, tiny premade structures tucked discreetly behind
the opulent facades of the owners’ homes. Trying to stay hidden, Draven ducked
from one house to the next, flattening himself against the wall at one house,
throwing himself into a snowdrift beside another.