forty or fifty escaped slaves. If they can be exterminated quickly, all will be well. Sanginians will come and most will not care that there is no hearing product. Most will just see a planet with much green and blue and many fair places to live. They will see opportunity. Yes, it will take the company longer to turn a profit. But I must keep my perspective; in the long run everything will work out.
I was about to write my father and update him and ask again, though I loathed doing it, for hearing product from his nearest colony, when a Handler interrupted me. He had news about the runaways. I ordered him in and he brought with him a short, fat merchant. He was, at least, a citizen of the Republic. I do not like to talk to those who are not. Even so, this meeting seemed a waste of my time. Why did he not simply send a report?
This is Bathamous. He is the husband of your cook. He has seen the runaways.
I was angry.
You have killed them?
He knew why I asked this, because if he saw them and didn’t kill them, then both he and his wife would be in violation. Their lives mine, citizens or not.
I could not.
Why is that?
They joined.
Impossible.
Still, it is true.
They are primitives.
Savages, he agreed. They would have killed me and my wife. They would have tried. I have skills but Addyen is only a cook. With them joined, I could not be sure of the outcome.
I want to discount this information. I have chosen my Handlers carefully so that we may join when necessary, but it is never easy and it is never comfortable. We cannot stay joined long. We are among the strongest in the empire and it is difficult for us. So I wanted to tell this merchant he was lying or mistaken.
But it is known that species who evolve rapidly, as these have done, whose talents have been ready for many generations, waiting for a spark, sometimes have one special skill. Never has it been one such as joining, and I feel uneasy and angry that it might be possible. I reason that even if true, they are primitives and their joinings are surely primitive. It is more likely this fat merchant exaggerated to save his life.
Where are they? I demanded.
At my house, lord. I made the excuse of registration and came right here. Please, Lord, do not let them harm her. They hold her prisoner.
He lied. He came here, and thought he could lie to me. I broke open his mind to see the truth. I heard him screaming as I did, and I watched him fall to the floor.
I am sorry for your loss.
He believed they joined, Anchise interrupted.
He was mistaken.
Of course, lord.
Kill my cook when you kill the product.
It is the law. Though they are citizens, they have hidden runaways. They have no protection and I have no patience.
Take another, I added.
Again, the Handler’s anger was too much to hide. A Handler is a powerful warrior. He is more powerful than a unit of soldiers, more deadly.
I will kill them.
Take another. They escaped you once.
I did not write my father. I did not visit my wife or my daughters. Instead I went up to the room where my second was kept. I looked out her window. I looked around the room. What happened here? What did she learn that is keeping them alive? How did she learn it?
Michael goes to talk to Lindsey, who is in one of the bedrooms.
Catlin and Lauren and I sit in the living room. I think Lauren’s going to start demanding answers from Catlin again. Instead she says, “I’m sorry about what happened to you with Lord Vertenomous.”
“I did what I had to do to stay alive,” Catlin says.
“There was nothing else you could have done,” Lauren says.
“I could have fought him.”
“You would have been killed,” Lauren says. “Every single person who fought them is dead. How old are you, anyway?”
“Fifteen,” Catlin says. Then she looks confused. “Sixteen maybe. I might have just turned sixteen.”
Then she begins to cry and maybe it’s because of what happened to her and maybe it’s because her birthday passed
I was about to write my father and update him and ask again, though I loathed doing it, for hearing product from his nearest colony, when a Handler interrupted me. He had news about the runaways. I ordered him in and he brought with him a short, fat merchant. He was, at least, a citizen of the Republic. I do not like to talk to those who are not. Even so, this meeting seemed a waste of my time. Why did he not simply send a report?
This is Bathamous. He is the husband of your cook. He has seen the runaways.
I was angry.
You have killed them?
He knew why I asked this, because if he saw them and didn’t kill them, then both he and his wife would be in violation. Their lives mine, citizens or not.
I could not.
Why is that?
They joined.
Impossible.
Still, it is true.
They are primitives.
Savages, he agreed. They would have killed me and my wife. They would have tried. I have skills but Addyen is only a cook. With them joined, I could not be sure of the outcome.
I want to discount this information. I have chosen my Handlers carefully so that we may join when necessary, but it is never easy and it is never comfortable. We cannot stay joined long. We are among the strongest in the empire and it is difficult for us. So I wanted to tell this merchant he was lying or mistaken.
But it is known that species who evolve rapidly, as these have done, whose talents have been ready for many generations, waiting for a spark, sometimes have one special skill. Never has it been one such as joining, and I feel uneasy and angry that it might be possible. I reason that even if true, they are primitives and their joinings are surely primitive. It is more likely this fat merchant exaggerated to save his life.
Where are they? I demanded.
At my house, lord. I made the excuse of registration and came right here. Please, Lord, do not let them harm her. They hold her prisoner.
He lied. He came here, and thought he could lie to me. I broke open his mind to see the truth. I heard him screaming as I did, and I watched him fall to the floor.
I am sorry for your loss.
He believed they joined, Anchise interrupted.
He was mistaken.
Of course, lord.
Kill my cook when you kill the product.
It is the law. Though they are citizens, they have hidden runaways. They have no protection and I have no patience.
Take another, I added.
Again, the Handler’s anger was too much to hide. A Handler is a powerful warrior. He is more powerful than a unit of soldiers, more deadly.
I will kill them.
Take another. They escaped you once.
I did not write my father. I did not visit my wife or my daughters. Instead I went up to the room where my second was kept. I looked out her window. I looked around the room. What happened here? What did she learn that is keeping them alive? How did she learn it?
Michael goes to talk to Lindsey, who is in one of the bedrooms.
Catlin and Lauren and I sit in the living room. I think Lauren’s going to start demanding answers from Catlin again. Instead she says, “I’m sorry about what happened to you with Lord Vertenomous.”
“I did what I had to do to stay alive,” Catlin says.
“There was nothing else you could have done,” Lauren says.
“I could have fought him.”
“You would have been killed,” Lauren says. “Every single person who fought them is dead. How old are you, anyway?”
“Fifteen,” Catlin says. Then she looks confused. “Sixteen maybe. I might have just turned sixteen.”
Then she begins to cry and maybe it’s because of what happened to her and maybe it’s because her birthday passed
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