The Slave (30 page)

“
See that man there? The one who is no
doubt winning? He is your salvation. Go and purchase a shot of
whatever single malt scotch these heathens have on hand and then
come to stand with me. Do not speak. You must be on your very best
behavior. You must be most serious. Go!”

While Ken sauntered casually toward the pool
table, Robin went to the bar and did as she was told. And from her
place slightly behind Ken’s shoulder, she got a better look at the
man Ken had pointed out.

He was short, and young. He was dressed like
almost everyone else, in the usual uniform of jeans and boots and
chaps and vest, but his looked well worn and perfectly tailored to
draw his slightly bulky torso in and make his legs seem longer.
When he bent and cradled the pool cue, Robin could just see the
shifting of flesh on his upper arms that suggested muscles. He had
kind of a cute ass, just a little rounded and tight against the
edges of the chaps. He moved slowly, with conservative steps and
motions, kept his attentions strictly on the table. There was a
dark shadow across his cheeks and chin, that artful shading of
facial hair that suggested carelessness. Robin’s first thought was
that all she needed to do it was dress him in fatigues and put a
gun in one hand and he would look like a hijacker.

Within minutes of their arrival, he did
indeed win the game and collected a strong and somewhat more
lengthy than usual handshake from the loser. But as someone else
stepped up to rack the balls, Ken made a motion, and the man looked
up at her. There was a brief moment, and then he turned and spoke
softly to the challenger. The man nodded agreeably and beckoned to
another player and the short man came over to Ken and nodded.

“
Mandarin. Slumming again?” His voice
was as careful as his movements, a mellow tenor. His eyes were
partly hidden behind the slightly shaded lenses of steel-rimmed
glasses, but Robin knew that he had already glanced at her several
times. She also realized that he was older than she had originally
thought, but it was more a sense than an observation of his face.
He was probably the kind of person who looked anywhere from five to
twenty years away from his true age, depending on what you wanted
to see.

“
Home was dull. And you never know
what you can find out here: look, I have found you! And such a new
you! I like your mustache. And you look so healthy! Your wastrel’s
life must be paying as well as your pool hustling. Allow me to buy
you a drink, in way of apology for losing the table.”

Robin knew a cue when she heard one.
Gingerly, she extended the shot of whisky, which the man picked out
of her hand without comment or acknowledgment.

“
I accept. You’re looking
exceptionally well yourself, Mandarin,” he said. “But I am forced
to disagree with your assessment of what’s to be found out here. We
both know exactly what’s available. Nothing much.”

Ken abruptly dropped the small talk. Outside
the bar, they could hear sounds that suggested the contest had
ended. Men who didn’t wait for the crowning ceremonies were
hurrying back to get their drinks ordered. “I thought you were in
Europe.”

“
I decided not to go.”

“
That may be fortunate for my friend
here, and for you.”

“
I am on vacation.”

“
Nonsense. With what you can earn from
her sale, you can purchase another vacation. Surely, you do not
intend to spend the next several weeks cheating these boys out of
their money?”

The man grinned, flashing teeth in the dim
light. “They always get the money back one way or another.”

“
Yes, you no doubt beat it back into
them dollar by dollar. Consider a more civilized way to pick up
some minor change, if you will.”

Finally, the man turned to look at Robin. He
beckoned her from behind Ken, and examined her without touching
her. With one finger, he made a gentle gesture, and she turned, so
he could see all of her.

“
She’s very common.”

Robin turned dark red with embarrassment.
She was grateful for the dim lighting in the bar, and for the
rising noise of the entering crowd, which had probably drowned out
this man’s casual comment about her.

“
If you’re only handling models now,
you should change your advertising, white boy. What do you want,
quality of form or quality of spirit? She was born to the
life.”

“
I will interview her tomorrow night,”
he said abruptly. “Five weeks, you get spot only.”

“
She is to be ready for the next sale.
Spot plus five percent.”

“
In two weeks? No spot, and I’ll
prorate my standard fee.”

“
Bastard.”

He smiled again.

“
Your fee against twenty percent, I
get spot. If your fee isn’t covered, you can take my spot and I’ll
pay the balance. If there is any.”

“
My full fee then?”

Ken glanced at Robin, and Robin froze. She
hadn’t understood a single thing they were talking about.

Ken muttered another Chinese curse. “Fine,
and fuck you! You’re lucky I like her so much.”

“
I’m lucky that you don’t need the
money, so you might as well give it to me. You’re not in the
business, Mandarin, you just like pulling short hairs.” He drank
the scotch down quickly, and Robin was barely there in time to
catch the glass as he let go of it. “OK, you’ve got me for a
miracle. Let’s hope your latest find is worth it.”

“
You’ll be pleasantly surprised,” Ken
promised. “And you’ll call me after the sale and beg my forgiveness
for being such a grasping prick.”

“
Seven o’clock then?” The man pulled a
business card out of one shirt pocket and wrote something on it. He
passed it to Ken when she nodded. “I’ll be in touch if she’s
acceptable.”

Ken took the card and nodded again, and the
man turned away from them, to watch the new game of pool.

“
Come, my pet,” Ken said, leading
Robin back through the new crowd of leathermen, pressed together in
a morass of polish, oil and sweat. At the door, they were able to
see the new winner, a broad sash crossing his chest and a bouquet
of leather roses over one arm.

In the cab, Ken grinned and placed the
business card in Robin’s hand with a flourish. “You have it made,
little slave. He will get you to your paradise. We will have a
celebration lunch tomorrow and invite some of my friends, because
the next time you see them, you shall be chattel. What joss, hey?
You’ve got some luck. And it won’t cost me a dime, no matter what
he says.”

Robin looked down, and then held the card up
so that she could read the plain black printing against the
pulsating flashes of streetlamps they passed. On one side, it named
a hotel and a room number. On the other, it said:

Chris Parker, Trainer

Her apartment was nearly empty now. With the
last of her belongings packed off to the storage facility, and the
last volunteers carrying away the few pieces of furniture that were
left, she was alone with her walls, her empty closets, a table and
two chairs, and her bed.

Sitting on the table, by her phone, was the
Rolodex, still flipped open to the same card. A legal pad sat next
to it, with a long list that had most of the entries crossed
off.

So easy to do away with a
life
, Robin
marveled, taking another tour of the place.
It wasn’t that long ago when I
moved in. Now everything I have is gone, or packed away. And it
barely took two full days.

Have I been waiting for this all my life,
that I never placed that much importance on lasting tangible
assets? I never even considered buying into a co-op. I never
thought of owning a car. I kept my wardrobe to a minimum, borrowed
more books than I bought, and never collected anything.

It had been so odd, sleeping in her wide,
soft bed again, and waking up when she wanted to. Throwing on jeans
and a sweater to go down to a bakery for croissant and coffee, and
then getting a newspaper. Watching television. Hell, it was odd
hearing people talk about newsworthy events that had happened in
the past couple of days.

I’ve been living on another
planet
, she
thought, touching the Rolodex.
And now I want to emigrate.

So what do I tell Mom?

Chris had explained to her what the general
policy was for Marketplace slaves. If the slave did not choose to
cut all contact off with their family, they were permitted a
certain amount of contacts per year. Although some slaves insisted
on constant communication, most were content with limited
interaction with any member of the outside world. Chris’s preferred
contract allowed for four.

That would allow for two birthdays, their
anniversary, plus Christmas. Which was exactly how many times Robin
voluntarily contacted them last year, anyway. The only problem in
pretending that nothing had changed was that she’d no longer have
the same address, and she would probably not be able to receive
calls.

“
Mom, I’m going away for a while, and
I won’t be staying in one place. But I’ll keep in
touch.”

“
But Robin, can you afford this? Where
are you going? Is it safe? Does it have to do with work? Are you
all right?”

Robin buried her head in her
arms.
I
can’t, I can’t, I can’t! The less I say, the more she’ll worry, and
the more upset I’ll get. And if I start threading lies together,
they’re going to come apart somewhere! A glance at her watch told
her that she wasn’t due back at the Upper West Side apartment for
another five hours.

Five hours is an awfully long time to sit
with a Rolodex, a table and chair and a phone.

Robin tossed the phone file into a shopping
bag and left the apartment for the last time. She dropped her keys
off with the super and went out into the cool afternoon to enjoy
what would hopefully be her last day of freedom. And if she thought
up something she could tell her mother during the day, well, that
would be fine. If not, at least Christmas was still a bit away. The
fact that her mother wouldn’t be able to contact her nagged like
the real problem it was, but she refused to let it confound her.
Some way, she would find a way to handle things. She always had
before. She breathed deep in the autumn air, and smelled the
approach of winter. Soon, she thought, picking up her pace and
barely glancing at the passing world. Soon.

* * * *

Robin signed the release forms in four
different places and dated her signature. The last of her medical
tests had come in, and her professional file was almost complete.
The beautiful photographs that Ken had taken of her showed her in
profile and full face, clothed and nude. In one, she was kneeling
with her back to the camera, looking almost fearfully over her
shoulder. She hated it and thought it made her look stupid. Chris
Parker tossed it into the folder anyway.

Her medical records had been condensed to
three forms which attested to her emotional and physical health.
Her detailed reports would only be given to her owner, after she
was purchased. Ken’s notes were in there, and they were warm and
positive. But Chris waved a hand over those pages with disdain.

“
They show too much affection,” he
told her.

“
Well, isn’t that good?”

“
No. Not all owners are interested in
being affectionate toward their slaves. Nor will they fail to see
that you were not Marketplace trained when you were with Mandarin.
The training will make all the difference.” He piled everything
together, and placed several clean sheets of paper on top, with a
blank form. “My notes will make all the difference.”

Robin pressed her lips together in reaction
to his casual arrogance. But he was only telling her the truth.
Even Ken said so. She composed herself and nodded.

“
This week, we do nothing but
refinements. You will move and speak for me, and you will lose
every trace of the mannerisms that will tend to lower your price.
Tell me what they are.”

“
Sir. I hesitate too long before answering
questions or moving to obey an order. My movements are still
clumsy―”

“
Be more specific!”

“
When I rise from kneeling, sir. Especially
after I’ve been kneeling for a long time. And I am too abrupt in my
abbreviated bows, and too theatrical in my formal ones. I rarely
anticipate your needs correctly, and I am still too prone to forget
myself and daydream from time to time.”

“
And?”

Isn’t that enough?
Robin
thought
. I
sound like a real jerk already. How could I have ever really
thought that I could be a perfect slave?

“
Now, girl, now!”

“
Sir, please forgive me, sir. I can’t
recall any other specific faults which you have instructed me to
correct, sir.”

Chris stood up and stretched. “That’s
correct. You got them all. You may place the pallet at the foot of
my bed and sleep there tonight. Coffee at dawn, and we shall begin
to make you truly presentable.”

“
Yes, sir,” Robin said, barely
restraining a grin. “Thank you, sir.”

And again, as she rolled over
onto her side, wrapped up in a warm blanket and feeling the
unyielding floor beneath the thin padding, she almost cried,
holding herself and disbelieving the sensations that ran through
her.
It’s so
good
, she
thought,
so
good. So right
.