Raoul sighed and looked around Iason's office in Jupiter Tower.
No, Raoul admonished himself, his office. Iason is gone.
It had been a tough few weeks since the explosion at Dana Bahn. After searching the ruins for days Jupiter had suddenly secluded herself in her tower, but only after making Raoul the new head of the Syndicate.
It was a demanding job and Raoul longed to be back in his Biolab being the prefect scientist that he was. But no he was here trying run an entire planet while keeping all the elites in line.
One small grace was that the less than reputable part of Syndicate business and most all illegal business on Amoi had remained under control.
The Black Market ran itself which surprised him. He had thought that with the death of Iason no one would be left to keep it in order. Unless someone had taken over, but who? No one from Midas could run an operation that complex. It had to be an elite, but none had the connections or power to accomplish such a feat.
Whoever it was he had to find and eliminate them because they were a threat to the Syndicate.
Just then a small light on the desk started to flash, which was odd because that particular light indicated that there was someone in the back elevator entrance. Only Iason and himself knew of it.
Raoul stood as the elevator doors whooshed opened. A young man who looked no more than twenty stepped out. He seemed familiar to Raoul but he couldn't quite recall where they had crossed paths.
He was tall almost elitely so and his hair was a deep red color almost like a Ruby's. But he was definitely not an elite Raoul decided. There was something about his posture, it was too submissive, the way he kept his eyes respectfully downcast and his shoulders slightly forward. Also his hair, though the right color, was cut too short for the styles of the elite. His skin, Raoul noted, was pale and flawless with the exception of a long vicious scar on the right side of his face. It ran from his temple just under his cheekbone stopping abruptly before the corner of his mouth, and red full lips, which opened to speak.
"Lord Am", the man said formally with a polite bow. He had a surprisingly deep voice for one with such a lean form.
Suddenly Raoul was reminded of a young furniture that Iason had years ago. Katze, yes that was his name. Raoul had always wondered what had happened to the boy. He had always seemed like the perfect, ideal, furniture. He had asked Iason about him once, when he disappeared, but Iason had avoided the question. So Raoul had assumed that he had been sold or recycled like all unwanted furniture.
At the time Raoul thought it was a shame that Iason had not asked him if he had wanted him. It wasn't something he could explain to anyone or even himself but he had always been curious about this particular furniture. In a strictly scientific sense of course Raoul quickly added to the end of his reminiscence.
Whatever had happened to Katze in those four years he was now standing in Iason's private office having come through a secret entrance.
"Katze?" Raoul finally spoke. Katze shifted as if surprised that Raoul knew his name.
"Yes, Lord Am", Katze answered his eyes still downcast.
"Why are you here?"
"Sir Am, I have come here by the orders Master Iason left me in the event of his death."
Raoul was shocked had Iason known something like this might happen? And if he had why would he leave such an important thing to a furniture? Then a thought struck Raoul.
"And what were you to Iason, that he would trust you with such a task?"
"I was his Overseer in the Black Market and his representative in Guardian."
"I see," was all Raoul said in response. He was absolutely stunned. Iason had put his furniture, essentially a mongrel, in charge of the Black Market.
Thinking of the reports he had read earlier on the Market's profit, he felt his old curiosity about Katze starting to return.
"Very well then, what were Iason's orders?"
"Master Iason's orders were to inform you that the ownership of the Black Market and...", Katze's voice hitched for a moment, "and myself have been transferred to you, Master Am."
An odd thrill of emotion went through only thought was, Katze is mine. He glanced at Katze trying to gauge the redhead's emotions, but all he saw was Katze's seemingly emotionless expression.
"You seem very calm for a man just gave himself back into servitude."
"Those were Iason's orders."
"You're awfully loyal to a master who is…" Raoul paused he couldn't say the words or even bring himself to think it, "not here."
A strange look crossed Katze's face before is was quickly schooled back into a cold mask.
"Yes," he said slowly.
"Do you still have your furniture tag?" Raoul questioned, wanting to change the subject.
"Yes," Katze said again in an emotionless tone, as he pulled it from his pocket and passed it to Raoul. Raoul opened the case and started typing in new code sequences.
Katze watched trying to suppress his anger. He felt helpless, always at the mercy of someone else's whims. First Iason and now Raoul. He had thought about running or not coming to Raoul but he knew Iason would have contingencies in place the make sure that he complied with his orders even if he wasn't there to enforce them.
"There. I have resequenced the pass codes to match my own," Raoul said as he snapped the top of the tag back down. The tag was now completely sealed against any who would try and open it without knowing the authorization code. This also prevented the wearer for removing it once it was put on.
A tag was the mark of a furniture it granted them access to everything their Master allowed, such as their Master's apartments. Katze remembered how he felt when Iason had removed his tag, just before he sent him to work in the Black Market. He had felt free then, but it was a lie Iason's was and alway had been his Master. Now Raoul was his Master, something he would have to come to terms with.
Katze sighed, closed his eyes and held out his wrist steeling himself mentally and physically to become a furniture once again.
Raoul looked at Katze taking in stiff posture and his proffered wrist. He reached out and gently took Katze's hand turning it. Golden eyes flashed up to meet Raoul's emerald ones as he placed the furniture tag in Katze's now upturned palm.
"You have full access as before, and the authorization code for the tag is H458K8, " Raoul said softly giving Katze's wrist a delicate barely-there caress as he pulled his hands away.
Katze just stared at him in shocked confusion, "What?"