"We are the choices we make. And have to make. We aren't anything else."
-Patrick Ness
Marco's father had told him once, that flying was the one thing humans had always strived to do. The Old Ones had made clunky, awkward machines; airplanes, they had been called. But they had no grace; there was no elegance or subtlety in the way in which those machines had thundered across the sky.
Later, the Enhanced had improved on those airplanes; making smaller, quicker, more graceful machines that glided through the air. Some of the Enhanced even had abilities that allowed them to fly. But, his father had explained, humans were only ever allowed to fly because of technology; they would never be able to fly without it, to fly naturally. "We are the ultimate life forms, on this Earth," he had said. "Yet we still envied birds, and the way flying is second nature to them. We would always reach for the sky, though. That's why we built Caelum – a city among the clouds."
"And the Unenhanced," he had added in a darker tone, "Are the ones whose own greed and laziness prevent them from becoming great like us. Their own sins and characteristics are what chain them to the ground."
At the time, young Marco hadn't understood what his father had meant. They had Unenhanced staff working in their very home, after all – how were they chained to the ground? Still, his father's words had stuck with him. He often spent time gazing out of the great glass windows in his home; or walking along the walkways and looking down. He had always loved Caelum, and the higher he was, the better. He loved the open sky, he loved looking at the clouds below and around him, and he loved the sense of freedom that came with it.
How amazing, he had often wondered, would it be to jump off into the open air, and glide around the sky, as free as a bird? Without any sort of vehicle, or Enhanced ability; to just naturally take to the air, and glide among the winds.
Sadly, it was a question that would never be answered. He had tried to convince his parents to let him get an ability that would allow him to fly. They had refused, on the basis that in his future line of work, there would be no need for flying; abilities that would let him fight were what he really needed.
Still, he had always loved Caelum, even if he would never be able to fly. He adored looking down from the highest spot he could get to, and see the world spread out underneath him. He loved the way the sky looked at night, when he was out walking among the stars. He loved the gentle breeze up there, loved the way the world would rush by below as he zoomed across on the skyline, he loved it all. Caelum was like some sort of heaven to him.
This could explain why he immediately didn't like Terra. Caelum was bright, beautiful, clean, and safe. Terra was anything but. The great glass and metal structures up in Caelum started here, but down here they were ugly concrete masses. Marco guessed he could understand the logic behind it; with buildings as tall as these, they needed strong bases, right? Still, they were an eyesore; made uglier by all of the graffiti scrawled across them.
Insults to the Enhanced, mostly, he noticed. But also, the word Survey was there quite a bit. He began to notice some sort of logo repeated too; a pair of wings overlapping.
Marco tilted his head back. He could just about see a little bit of blue sky. Despite being the afternoon, Terra was dark; nearly all light blocked by the massive buildings. And the buildings down here; the smaller ones where the Unenhanced lived and worked, were all ugly things, clustered together in overcrowded streets. Everything was dull and dirty; even the air seemed unclean; there was an awful smell, and it seemed a lot stuffier down here.
If Caelum was a heaven, Terra was, without a doubt, hell.
Any excitement he'd had was long gone; a sick feeling of dread replacing it. He didn't like it down here, it felt too confined. He was beginning to feel claustrophobic; he longed to be back in the open spaces of Caelum, among the clouds. He felt so…unsafe here; despite all of the guards protecting them, he could see the dark expressions of the Unenhanced glaring at them. To make himself feel better, he focused on their collars. If they tried anything, he reasoned, all he would have to do was flick the dial on his wrist. And it wouldn't even come to that; the threat of the guards would keep them away.
Their teacher did a headcount, before leading them through the city. The Military Police followed closely. He quickly discovered the teacher was just prattling back what they had heard a hundred times before; the history of Caelum and Terra, why they had to separate the Enhanced and Unenhanced to keep the Unenhanced evil from spreading, why they; the next generation, had to learn not to hesitate to teach them their place. It was something they heard so much; Marco could probably recite it at this stage.
He usually was a good student, but he didn't hesitate to tune out down here, focusing on their surroundings.
They were lead through the main streets of Terra. Drowning the teacher's words out, Marco focused on the Unenhanced. They all looked beaten down and tired; many thin, all in dirty clothing and dark collars. Marco was glad they were kept down here; he didn't want people like this cluttering up his Caelum.
Many crowded the streets; slumping against the walls and sitting on steps. They were quiet as they walked by, throwing hateful looks at the students, before throwing fearful ones at the Military Police. One woman sat on a step, cradling a tiny baby in her bony arms. A group of young boys stood on the roof of a tiny two-story building, giving them the middle finger before running away.
Marco looked over his shoulder, to where two young men and a young woman were following the procession at a distance. He frowned, recognizing them to have been at the pod gates. Why were they following them? The dread in his stomach coiled a little bit, clenching at his insides. The two young men were tall, the woman was tiny. But they looked strong; without a doubt they must be employed in some sort of physical work. The woman was the one who caught his attention the most; her delicate features contrasting with her fierce blue eyes and strong frame.
The sick feeling grew, and Marco turned around.
Connie nudged him with his elbow. "You okay, man?"
Marco nodded. "I've heard about this place, but being here is…"
"Unreal?"
"Unreal."
Sasha sidled up to them. "Look at them," she whispered. Despite the situation, there was a small smile on her lips. "They look so hungry, as if they're going to eat us alive!"
Connie paled. "That's going to give me nightmares, Sasha," he muttered.
Sasha giggled, and despite himself, Marco gave a weak smile.
He fell behind them a little bit; watching their backs as they nudged and elbowed each other, exchanging teases and insults. He felt a little better now; he did have his friends down here, after all.
Hearing whispering behind him; Marco glanced at two boys walking behind him. Thomas and Nack, he noted. The two guys from earlier. They were having a very hushed conversation with one of the Military Police, who was grinning lopsidedly. Frowning, Marco turned his attention back to his teacher just as they rounded a corner, coming onto one of the wider streets.
Immediately, his eyes widened.
"Holy shit," Connie said beside him.
This street obviously must have served for some sort of main street or town square for the people of Terra. Unlike the other cramped streets, here was an open space. More Unenhanced crowded the streets here than anywhere else. That wasn't what had surprised him; it was the statue in the middle of the square.
It was huge stone sculpture, far bigger than his own height. It was kind of sickening, too. Hundreds of humans, (Unenhanced, Marco noted, seeing all of their collars), writhing in pain, crying out and reaching up. They were all being crushed under a massive throne, on which sat a man wearing a crown. The Reiss crown, Marco realized, recognizing it.
"This sculpture," came the voice of his teacher. "Was commissioned by King Elric Reiss, the first. Shortly after the first generation of Enhanced, he ordered this to be built in the center of Terra; as a reminder to the Unenhanced to their rightful place. Under us." She finished with a beam, pausing as she gazed at it for a moment, before launching into the tale of its construction.
"Fuck," Sasha breathed in front of him. She elbowed Connie, pointing just beyond the statue. "Look over there."
Marco followed where she was pointing.
Fuck.
Gallows.
No; looking closer he could see that they weren't gallows; not really. Someone was hanging from them, but by his wrists, not his neck. His wrists were bound above his neck, hanging from the frame. The person, a man, from what he could see, was shirtless; bloody scratches crisscrossing across his back. He had been whipped, Marco realized with a sinking feeling. Whipped and left hanging by his wrists, for who knew how long?
"I wonder what he did," said Connie.
"I think he's still alive," said Sasha.
Marco said nothing for a few moments. He couldn't help but pity the man; it did seem a bit…cruel. Inhumane.
You're being a fool, he told himself. You can't be inhumane with the Unenhanced. They're not human anyway; not really. They're stuck in this hell because of their own mistakes; they're lazy and greedy and evil, so they haven't evolved like we have. They can't adapt to Enhanced abilities like us, they can't live in Caelum. It's their own fault they're down here.
"He probably deserved it," Marco said after a few minutes. "Ilse works down here; she's not cruel. Whatever happened, he deserved this." Connie and Sasha nodded in agreement.
He heard whispers again. Looking behind him, he saw Thomas and Nack speaking to the Policeman again. It was the policeman at the very back of the group; all of the others were focused on the rest of the students. Nobody but Marco noticed when the Policeman slipped away, beckoning for Thomas and Nack to follow.
The two boys exchanged a look, barely concealed excitement glinting in their eyes.
The policeman began whispering to some of the others. Marco let his curiosity get the better of him, and focused on his voice, zoning in with his enhanced hearing.
"Corporal Wagner – you know him, of course you do; he paid me to give his son a real taste of Terra, instead of this wishy-washy bullshit. Are you going to disagree with his orders?"
"N-no, sir."
"Didn't think so. Come on, boys."
The policeman began walking away, Thomas and Nack following excitedly.
Marco chewed on his bottom lip. "Thomas!" he called, after his back. Turning his head, Thomas looked back. Right now, all of their classmates and teachers were focused on the hideous statue. The other policemen had heard the apparent orders from Corporal Wagner, and weren't saying a thing. The only one who noticed them gone was Marco; even Connie and Sasha hadn't seen, they were too busy discussing the Unenhanced man hanging by his wrists.
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "What is it now, Marco? Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Where do you think you're going?" Marco asked. "We were told not to leave the group."
Thomas rolled his eyes. "Listen, Marco – we all know that this tour, or whatever it is, won't do anything for us. We're getting a real taste of Terra."
Marco glanced over his shoulder, at the rest of the class. At the Unenhanced cowering away, hiding from the group of them.
"Hey," Thomas said, voice brightening a little. "You're gonna be working in the Police later, aren't you? So will I, that's why dad arranged this. Your dad would agree, we need to see the reality down here. Come with us."
Marco rolled the fingers of his left hand into a fist. He'd admit, the offer was tempting. He was curious about the Unenhanced; he couldn't deny it, despite being nervous and on edge down here. But he really should stay with the group…Thomas, Nack, and the policeman would probably end up in huge trouble.
That said…could he really just let two of his classmates go off in Terra alone? Granted, they had a policeman with them, granted that there were plenty of them about in the city, but anything could go wrong down here. And Marco was the son of one of the most important people in Caelum, in a few years Marco would be serving King Reiss. And well, Nack and Thomas were nice people, but they didn't always make good decisions. If something happened to them, and he hadn't told anyone where they were, it would be his fault.
"You coming?"
Marco glanced over his shoulder once before nodding. "Yeah."
Away from the main group of students and policemen, the Unenhanced were much more intimidating. The policeman in front of him walked with confidence through the streets. Marco's one open eye kept flickering from right to left. The streets were definitely more packed around here, and the looks of contempt from the Unenhanced seemed worse now that he wasn't surrounded by trained by policemen.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the blonde woman and her two male companions following from behind, still a distance away, but still there. His stomach lurched.
Nack elbowed him, noticing his discomfort. "Dude," he said, nodding to where policemen on patrol were stationed. "Relax. We're safe."
Marco just nodded, not quite believing it but relaxing a little. He decided to tune in to what the policeman was saying to Thomas.
"You see, you need to show them who's boss. These people? They're scum. Barely can be called people, really. But they've a very…active imagination, you could say. Give them a break and they'll be dreaming of overthrowing us. We need to remind them of their place, y'know? And words don't get through their thick skulls, so the only way to remind them, is violence."
Marco's left eye widened slightly.
"Keep it random, y'know? It keeps them on their toes. And if you're gonna become a part of the Police, you'll need to be used to seeing it and dealing it out."
The policeman raised an arm, gesturing for them to stop walking. His blue eyes scanned the people around them. "You want a taste of reality on Terra? I'll give you a demonstration."
Marco's throat was dry. He looked at the people around them: a young woman was guiding her young son away from them. They were both very thin, and even from this distance Marco could see the fear in her eyes. He could see a man standing at the corner, leaning against the wall. His eyes, partially hidden by long hair, were focused on the policeman. He looked tense, as if he was getting ready to bolt at any moment. A young man and a younger woman came out of one of the buildings. They looked like teenagers, the boy's hair cut in a style resembling an undercut, one arm curled protectively against the girl. He remembered seeing them at the pod exit.
If it wasn't for the collars curled around all of their necks, he could almost think that they were people, like him or Connie or Sasha, or Thomas or Nack. They all had names, he was sure, and families, and stories, and thoughts. He doubted they had many dreams, though; they couldn't do much down here.
Marco knew better; he knew who they were, what they were. But surrounded by them, it was harder to see them as the scum he knew they were.
"You. Step forward."
The policeman raised a hand, pointing to the girl walking with the guy with the undercut.
Marco gulped.
Now that he looked closer, they looked alike. They shared the same shade of hair; somewhere between an ash brown and a dirty blonde. They also had the same hazel eyes, and the same sharp nose. They must be related, he decided, most likely siblings.
He was nervous. Marco had an idea of what to expect, and he didn't like it. He knew that it would be something that he would have to deal with when he was older, but right now, it wasn't something he wanted to think about.
The girl's hazel eyes widened, sending a fearful glance back to her brother. The brother paled, eyes flickering between them. For a second, they lingered on Marco. Marco felt a little sick. The girl took a few steps towards them, unsure of herself. He noticed that she wobbled slightly on her feet. The Unenhanced all around them stopped whatever they were doing, the buzz of talk gradually dying down. They all got out of the way, forming a circle around them.
"I presume you kids know how to use your dials?" the policeman asked. "Whatever - using them and knowing how to use them are very different things. It'll be good to get some practice."
Marco glanced at his two classmates; they looked a little apprehensive, but curious. Marco wished he hadn't come with them.
"What are you gonna start with?"
The policeman tilted his head. "Three."
The girl took a sharp breath, quickly taking a step back. The policeman's hand went to the dial on his right wrist, twisting the dial, and-
"Ah!" There was a humming sound, and the girl's hands went to her neck. Marco would never know what getting shocked with a collar would be like, but her reaction told him everything he needed to know. She was gasping for breath, stumbling backwards with her eyes closed and face scrunched up in pain. She would have fallen if her brother hadn't caught her. Murmurs were flying through the crowd. Marco looked up to the roof of a nearby building. Two policemen were stationed there, he hoped they might intervene, but instead they looked on with an expression nearing amusement.
After a moment, the policeman clicked his dial off. The girl sank into her brother's arms, breathing heavily. Angry whispers were spreading across the crowd of Unenhanced, and Marco was becoming more uneasy by the minute.
"That was wicked," Thomas breathed. There was a glint in his eye, the same glint present in the policeman's. Marco could understand the appeal, to be honest; all their life they had been told that they had this power but were never given a chance to use it. For the first time, they were really seeing the control they had over the Unenhanced.
Marco couldn't enjoy it, though. He was too uneasy, too aware of the mass of Unenhanced in the area, too aware of the looks of anger on their faces.
"Your turn," the policeman said, with a smirk.
Thomas's eyes widened. "Seriously?"
"Seriously. Think she can take a five? Heh, only one way to find out."
"No," the boy spoke, eyes narrowed. "No, she hasn't done anything – please, she's sick-"
Thomas flicked his dial up to five, and the girl let out a loud cry. Tears were squeezing from under her eyelids now. The boy looked frantically around, unsure what to do, searching for help in the crowd. "Stop!" he yelled.
"Stop," Marco whispered, but it was so quiet nobody heard it. He didn't like this; this was nothing like what he had heard, this was too real.
Thomas flicked his dial off, his grin wider. "Nack," he said, grinning at his friend.
His grin was reflected in Nack's face. He turned back to the girl.
The brother turned suddenly, shielding her body with his own. The one fault with the collar and dial system was that your eyes had to focus in on the victim's body. Like this, Nack couldn't focus on her, only on him. He let out an impatient huff. "Move," he said. "Or I'll shock you instead."
The boy didn't move a muscle.
Nack turned his dial up to seven, frowning at the boy's back. The humming sound was louder this time, but it could only be heard for a moment before the boy's loud gasp. A choked sound made its way past his lips, and for a second Marco thought he would fall to the ground. He stumbled a little, but kept his balance, even though his whole body was shaking. He made a noise of pain, and Marco felt a twinge of sympathy before Nack turned his dial off.
"Jean!" he heard someone from the crowd call. The boy – Jean? – sank to his knees slowly, back to them, still cradling his sister against his chest. He was breathing heavily, shoulders twitching.
"Marco," Thomas called. "Your turn."
He looked at the person in front of him. He was nothing, Unenhanced filth. Marco could kill him and nobody would even care. But this was someone who was putting himself in harm's way to protect somebody he cared about. Marco hesitated.
And suddenly there was movement in the crowd; people being pushed aside as someone mowed their way through to the front. It was a boy, face pulled back into a snarl and a shock of dark hair on his head. "Enhanced scum!" he yelled, throwing something in their direction.
It was a brick. Marco had done a lot of training over the last few years, and it was easy to raise his right arm and block it. It bounced harmlessly off of his metal arm, breaking in two on impact.
Everything happened very quickly after that.
It was like that one kid had sparked a fire; suddenly the angry murmurs were angry yells, and the Unenhanced were picking up anything they could find and throwing it at them, shouting and cursing. Not all of the Unenhanced, of course; some of them were frantically fleeing the scene. Marco saw the boy from before stumble to his feet, helping his sister up before being lost in the crowd that was suddenly moving forward.
In an instant, Enhanced policemen were there, and the familiar humming of collars began again as they tried to regain control of the crowd. They were easily overpowered; Marco could see that this was futile. The policemen didn't even need their abilities, apart from their dials, and the Unenhanced were stumbling and falling one after the other under their gaze. Some didn't even bother with the dials; using enhanced speed and strength to take whoever got in their way down with force alone.
Still, the mob wasn't stopping. It was like an unstoppable wave of anger crashing into the policemen.
"Survey!" he heard someone yell.
"Come on," grunted the policeman, snapping Marco out of his trance. He had been frozen in place, just watching as the riot raged on and more Enhanced arrived to the scene. Seeing the policeman guide Thomas and Nack away from the danger, he quickly followed.
And then, the three he had spotted earlier were in front of them; the blonde woman and the two tall men. Up close, they didn't look that old at all – hardly older than Marco. "Annie," he heard one call, and the next thing he knew the blonde woman was launching herself at him, moving quicker than he would have thought possible for an Unenhanced girl.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Thomas and Nack stumble backwards as the policeman quickly engaged one of the men; Marco couldn't see much but almost immediately smelled burning flesh and knew he was using his enhanced abilities.
He barely registered it before the woman was on top of him, arm swinging in for a sharp punch. Marco knew how to fight, and he raised his arm to block the punch. She was feigning though, and her foot slammed into the side of his knee, making it buckle.
He was partially in shock as he fell to one knee; shock that this was happening, shock over the fact that someone Unenhanced could fight like this. He could see her swinging her knee next, and he reached up to block it. She wrenched out of his grip, swinging a kick that connected with his ribs, but Marco would be damned if he would be beaten by an Unenhanced girl. He forced himself up, narrowly dodging an elbow to his nose (instead landing one on his cheek). He sent a clumsy hit out in her direction, but she was too quick.
For a second, he considered using his dial. His good eye focused on the girl, zooming in. A tiny green tick in his peripheral vision told him that he was good to go. His hand went to his dial…but he couldn't turn it.
The blonde reached out, grabbing for his face and Marco turned his head to avoid two fingers in his good eye.
Bad move.
With the turn of his head, she ended up hitting the other side of his face, dislodging the eye patch over his right eye.
"Shit-"
Marco grit his teeth through the hot pain as a blast of heat erupted from his eye. He shut his good one so he wouldn't be blinded, he knew from experience that a column of red was shining from his eye. A heat beam, it was called. An ability created for him alone, one that had failed so hilariously that Marco could barely control it, despite it being incredibly dangerous.
The beam landed on the brickwork of a building in front of him, shooting straight through it, causing brick and dust to collapse around it. He wondered for a brief moment if he had hit that girl. He fell onto his back, the beam swerving widely and blasting through more of the walls around him before he managed to shut his eye. His hand scrambled around in the dirt until he found the eye patch. He slipped it on before getting up, accepting a hand from Thomas and ignoring Nack's "dude that was awesome!"
Instead, he followed the policeman, who had since dealt with the other two (Marco could see them slumped on the ground, he wasn't sure if they were dead or alive-) and began to run.
He had been expecting a lot of trouble. In the end, the angry crowd had turned into a full blown riot, and it had taken a lot of the Military Police to get them under control. They had even managed to hurt several of them, which Marco didn't find as shocking as his classmates. The policemen had been painted as all but untouchable; but from what he had seen earlier he knew it wasn't true.
In the end, nearly two dozen of the Unenhanced had been killed during the Police's efforts to regain control. All of the students had been evacuated quickly, in case they got caught in the rioting. Any future trips to Terra for other students had been cancelled.
Marco was expecting to be in a lot of trouble for leaving the group. Maybe if he had insisted Thomas and Nack had stayed, it wouldn't have happened. But Thomas's father quickly admitted to having given his son and his friends permission to leave, and nobody was going to deny Corporal Wagner that right. In the end, the teacher had been more pissed off that three of her students hadn't been listening to her preaching.
In the end, the policemen had gained control of the Unenhanced and none of the students had come to any harm. "So really," Ilse had said, "there was no harm done. You just need to be more careful down there, Marco; you really shouldn't have left the group. It wasn't your fault though; I'm sure it still would have happened even if you weren't there."
Marco's mother had looked uncomfortable when she had heard, asking if he had done anything to the Unenhanced. She looked worried enough, and Marco didn't want to worry her further saying he had been close enough to one that he had to fight her off. When she asked, he just shook his head, and she looked relieved.
His father was a different matter.
He had called him into his office, had him sit across from him. "I'm not mad at you," he said, sinking into his chair and entwining his fingers. "At least, not for leaving the group when you knew it would be dangerous. You did it out of concern for your classmates. It was a brave thing to do, even if it was foolish."
Marco knew that his father had two modes: business mode, and father mode. When he was in his father mode, Marco could relax more around him. Conversation would be lighter; jokes would be made, smiles given freely. In business mode, he was as serious as a funeral. Right now, he was in business mode, and when he was in business mode, Marco knew not to speak unless asked a direct question. So he didn't respond.
"However…judging on what your classmates – Thomas and Nack, was it? – and the policeman had to say about your behavior…"
Marco frowned a little.
"They say you acted bravely, but hesitated to use your dial. Twice; once with that kid on the street, but more importantly when you were attacked. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Marco looked down at his hands. What could he say for himself? It was perfectly within his right to have used the dial, to shock some sense into those Unenhanced…but he hadn't. He didn't know why, he never would have thought he would have been one to hesitate, but when the time came to it, he just…couldn't.
"I asked you a question, Marco."
"I don't know. I don't know why I did it. I guess…knowing the theory is different to actually using it when they're right there in front of you."
His father sighed. "Marco, in a few years, you're meant to be taking my position as head of security. There's no room for hesitation in that job; not when there are lives on the line."
"I know."
"Do you? Even when it's something as small as using your dial on a single Unenhanced, it's a lesson you need to have learned."
"And I have learned, father. It won't happen again."
"You're right; it won't."
There was a knock on the door. "Come in," his father called. Marco resisted the urge to turn around and see who it was coming in through the door.
"I was told you wanted me, sir?"
Marco failed to resist the urge, turning when he recognized the familiar voice. "Violet?"
Violet was an Unenhanced maid in the house, one who had been there as long as Marco could remember. She had spent her time her mostly working for him; catering to his every need, practically raising him herself. But the collar around her neck always reminded them both of their relationship. Still; for an Unenhanced woman, she wasn't bad. Marco would never admit it, but he was quite fond of the maid.
She was near enough the same age as his father, though she looked older; years of wear and tear evident on her face. She always looked tired, no matter how many smiles she had for Marco. Now, as well as exhausted, she looked confused, and wary. No doubt she had heard about the riot that had happened earlier.
"When it comes to the Unenhanced, you can't have any attachments," his father's voice cut through the tension in the room. "It doesn't matter who they are – they're nothing, each and every one of them. They're vermin, vermin you have to be prepared to exterminate at all times. Understood?"
His mouth was dry as he nodded. "Yeah."
"Prove it to me. An Unenhanced person stands right in front of you. Give her a three."
Wide eyed, Marco looked from the maid to his father. She looked terrified, pale faced and confused, as if she was thinking about making a run for it. "Sir?" she asked.
"Do it, Marco."
"D-dad?" Marco looked at her, studied her face. Sure, she was Unenhanced, but she couldn't be all bad. She was around for as long as Marco could remember; she was the one who had dressed him and cleaned him and fed him as a child, she was the one who had tucked him into bed at night and bandaged up his knees whenever he grazed them.
She could try to run, but she wouldn't get very far. Marco doubted she would make it to the door, not with his father in the room. And even if she did, she wouldn't get much further, not with all of the Enhanced guards in the building.
"Why are you hesitating Marco?" his father's voice was ice cold. Marco didn't like him like this; not when all he was thinking about was the future and the role Marco would have to take on soon. He was desperately hoping for the kinder man he knew he was at heart to make an appearance. "You just told me that you wouldn't."
The palm that was flesh and blood was beginning to sweat. His slick, metal arm was beginning to hum a little bit; Marco could feel it beginning to whir. It always did when he was nervous. "She hasn't done anything wrong – those people earlier attacked us, she hasn't, she hasn't done anything-"
"That's where you're failing, Marco. She's Unenhanced. She doesn't need to have done anything. Vermin, that's all they are; kill one and there are fifty crawling to replace it. Besides, she's getting old; if I have to have vermin serving you I'd rather someone closer to your own age. Now, for the love of Sina, give her a three. Don't make me say it again."
When his father was like this, he was really quite scary.
Marco's good eye shifted, zooming in slightly so it got a good picture on the maid. He heard the tiny click, saw the tiny green tick in the corner of his eye that told him the focus was on the terrified maid. He could already feel the hum of power slipping down internal circuits to his dial. Marco could hear his own heart thundering loudly in his ribcage. His father could probably hear it too, with his enhanced hearing.
He slowly gripped the dial with sweaty fingers. Keeping the focus on the maid, he stopped looking at her face, trying to get rid of some of the guilt already pooling in his stomach.
He turned the knob up to three.
The maid cried out, hands flying up to her collar. Her body twitched, tiny pained gasping noises escaping her. Was that his own blood Marco could hear in his ears?
His father gave a hum of approval, nodding as he leaned back in his chair. "Very good."
Marco wanted to look away, but he couldn't. If he turned, his focus wouldn't be locked on her, and it would be broken. His father hadn't given him permission to turn his dial off yet. And even if it wasn't for that, he doubted that he would be able to tear his eyes away.
"Turn it up to five, Marco."
Marco finally looked away, turning to his father as the maid gasped in relief. "What?"
"You heard me." His father's eyes were the same shade of brown as his own, but they seem much colder. Marco slowly turned around, giving an apologetic look to the maid as he locks his focus on her again, turning the dial up to five.
She screamed this time, back arching for a moment before she fell to her knees, clawing at her neck. With his high quality vision, Marco could clearly see the tears squeezing from underneath her eyes. She kept crying out, a mixture of short yelps and crying and gasping. Marco felt like his stomach was being twisted into a knot.
It doesn't matter, he told himself. She's just Unenhanced. It's not wrong for me to do this.
He wondered why he was feeling bad – he knew what she was, he knew that there was nothing wrong with what he was doing, but why did he feel so bad about it?
It's just because you don't see the point, he told himself. There's nothing wrong with this, but there's no reason behind it. It's alright; she's only an Unenhanced maid.
"Good. You're learning." From behind him, Marco could hear his father stand up. "Now. Ten."
He could have sworn his heart stopped for a moment. "Ten?"
Ten was the highest on the dial – a ten would kill her almost instantly.
"Ten." His father rested a hand on his shoulder. "Prove to me that you have what it takes, Marco. If you want to even dream about taking over from me or serving the King, you need to be able to exterminate this vermin."
The maid broke her silence. "Please," she rasped, breathing heavily as she looked up at them. Her eyes were filled with tears. "Master B-bodt, I've served you loyally for years, have mercy, please."
"Marco."
Marco had never killed anyone before. He knew she was only an Unenhanced woman, but somewhere in the back of his mind, his conscience was yelling at him, telling him that this was wrong.
What could he do, though? If he didn't do it, his father would finish the job anyway. He knew he was being overemotional about a simple Unenhanced woman, but couldn't help his dread. His hand was trembling as he switched his dial to ten.
For a split second, she screamed. It was cut short as her body slumped forward, landing with a thud on the carpet. Marco finally closed his eye.
Jean shoved the door of the apartment open with his shoulder, his other arm wrapped around the waist of his sister. "Fucking Enhanced," he growled under his breath.
Eren and Mikasa were behind them. "Be gentle," Mikasa chided, taking his sister's arm. Odette had always looked sickly - she had a sort of frail, delicate beauty, but she always looked like a gust of wind could snap her in half. And now, she looked as if she might collapse. She leaned into Mikasa's hold, barely able to stand.
Jean felt as if he was on fire - he was furious. Absolutely raging - they hadn't been doing anything to aggravate those boys. His gaze caught the dark collar around Odette throat as he opened the door. It was so fucked up; those kids were the same age as he was; a few years, give or take, older than her. Yet they had so much power over them; they had been bored so they attacked. Jean had told them, told them that she was sick - but that didn't make them show any mercy.
They had been on a five. And rising. They had given Jean a seven. If it hadn't been for the riot – no. He didn't want to think about what might have happened. If he hadn't been there, Odette would be…
Shut up, Jean.
She was even paler than usual. With her health, she couldn't easily take an attack like that. Jean was still weak kneed and unbalanced from that seven he had received, but at least he was able to stand. Odette couldn't.
One of the scariest things was that those officers, members of the Military Police - grown men - had done nothing. No, that was a lie. They had done something - they had laughed. They would have let those three rich boys kill him and his little sister. Jean suspected that any day, some rich Enhanced man could massacre as many Unenhanced as they wanted to, and nobody above would protest.
Jean opened his arms, and she gladly fell into them. Scooping her up into his arms, he gently walked into the dingy two-roomed apartment, laying her down gently on the couch.
"You should get some rest," he murmured, kneeling down beside her. She was fifteen years old, yet she wasn't much heavier than an eight year old.
She gave him a frail smile. "You should get some too," she said.
"I will," Jean said, gently stroking her cheek.
"That's what you always say," Odette mumbled, but she closed her eyes anyway. "What happened to all of your old honesty?"
Jean scoffed. "Can't survive in this town without lying."
She laughed a little at that. "True," she said. She was just as cynical as he was, even if she wasn't as strong.
Within five minutes, she was sleeping, her chest rising and falling. When she was asleep, she actually looked her age. Despite being sick for most of her life, she was a tough one. Like Jean. There was a hardness to her features, despite looking so delicate. Jean was so proud of her. She was stronger than he would ever be.
Odette was so like their mother; from her appearance to her manner. She had definitely inherited some of her traits from her; her quick tongue, her low tolerance for bullshit, her blunt manner. The two biggest differences they had was Odette's lack of patience and cynicism, which Jean suspected she had gotten from growing up with him.
She got frustrated rather easily; sometimes at him, but more often at herself and her inability to do certain things because of her illness. And hell, she was even more of a cynic than he was; no matter what happened, she doubted she would live very long. No matter how many times Jean had told her to shut up, because she'd be fine, she would never believe him. She only ever rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath about how it was obvious.
Now, Jean wasn't very hopeful by nature, but his sister was the one person he would never give up on.
He stood up, turning to where Eren and Mikasa stood. "Jean," Eren began, but Jean cut him off with a gesture to follow him into the kitchen.
The apartment was on the second floor of the building. It had two rooms; a tiny living room and a tinier kitchen. Odette slept on the couch, Jean on the hard floor. It had wooden floors partially rotted in some places, a cockroach problem, and the pipes leaked. Jean was grateful for it; so many people were worse off.
When the three of them congregated in the kitchen, he closed the door softly behind him before looking at Eren.
He wasted no time in starting. "You see, Jean? These mindless acts of violence? They were going to kill her. And you. For no reason except that they were bored."
Jean clenched his fists. "You think I don't fucking know that?"
"This is why the Unenhanced need Survey!" he said. They were both talking in hushed tones so as to not wake Odette, but there was enough emotion in Eren's voice to make up for the lack of volume.
He and Eren went way back. He didn't know him as long as Eren had known Mikasa, but he had known him long before either of them had begun to dabble with Survey. At first they hadn't really gotten along well; they were too similar and different at the same time. They both had strong personalities, while their beliefs clashed; Jean's gloomy, pessimistic outlook didn't click well with Eren's forever hopeful beliefs. But petty fights ended quickly after they had been chased by Enhanced guards one day, when they realized they were really on the same side.
Eren and Mikasa had helped him look after Odette, especially when she was going downhill. They had been there for them when his mother disappeared. And Eren's nature had begun to rub off a little on Jean; he became…not hopeful, exactly but driven.
The three of them had ended up mixing with Survey, the small resistance in Terra. They hadn't been in very far, but they had helped out on some of their missions. Jean had been naïve; it was only a few months ago, but he had actually thought that they might have been able to change the system. Of course, then Odette's health had taken another turn for the worse, and he left to care for her.
He didn't know if Eren had ever quite forgiven him for leaving (he had been trying to convince him to come back since), but if he hadn't started that ruckus earlier, they would both be dead.
Jean owed him his life, so he tried not to get angry. "Listen, Eren…I know you believe in Survey, I just…can't follow it. It's practically suicide. I mean, there's only so long it can keep going before the Military Police come down on it, and when they do? Every known associate will be executed, and you know it. Besides, we don't even know who the leader is, how do you know we could trust him? For all we know, it could be a trap."
Mikasa frowned. "How could it be a trap?"
"I don't know, an elaborate trap run by the Military to attract rebels so they can then get rid of them?" He didn't quite believe that was the case, but the fact was that nobody apart from the inner circle of Survey knew much about its mysterious leader.
Eren rolled his eyes. "The only reason we don't know yet, is because we haven't been initiated into the main part of it yet," he said. "It's clear everyone else in Survey trusts him, we can do the same."
Jean sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Look – whatever. The fact is, is that Odette's getting worse and worse each day. We were at the doctor's earlier, and that alone pretty much cost the rest of our money. And the new medication she needs; it's expensive. Getting a fucking collar shock from those Enhanced scumbags earlier wasn't exactly good for her either."
He felt so tired suddenly. He just wanted to curl up on the floor and sleep his worries away. Jean knew, though, that they never really went away, not even when he was asleep.
"What's your plan?" Mikasa asked, leaning against the wall with her arms folded. "I mean, you're going to have to find a way to pay for this medication, unless-"
"I'm done with stealing," Jean replied, "if I can avoid it. I'm going to apply for a job, above."
Eren looked livid. "So instead of fighting against them like you know you should, you're gonna go up and fucking serve them?"
Jean met his gaze. "If it's for Odette, yeah."
Nobody said anything for a moment. Jean refused to break eye contact. Eventually Mikasa broke the silence. "I'd do the same, in your position," she said quietly, before putting a hand on Eren's shoulder.
Eren looked away.
"Let's go."
Jean was nervous as he walked into the pod. It had barely been two days since the riot, but one of the rich families in Caelum had opened up a job offer in their household staff. According to the rumors, a maid had been murdered by the teenage son. That alone was enough to put most people off.
In general, those who worked for the Enhanced weren't well loved down in Terra. They were seen as a type of traitor down below. All of the Unenhanced despised the Enhanced, and the fact that someone would willingly work for them…most of the Unenhanced staff were treated badly in Terra because of that.
Jean had worked a similar job before, and had faced the consequences for it. He was pretty damn certain he still had the scars from the last time someone had vented their displeasure at it out on him. Everyone hated the Enhanced, but Jean could name a few of the Unenhanced he also hated.
Still, his mother had done this all her life to provide for him and Odette. If she could do it, so could he. He was still nervous though; the previous incident with the Enhanced had made him all too aware of the cruelty of the Enhanced.
He wondered if the teenage murderer he would (hopefully) be working for had been one of those boys who used their dials on him and Odette.
The good thing was that although he had stolen in the past, and although he had done some missions for Survey, he had never been caught. Because of that, his name was still clean up in their files, which meant he still had the chance to get a job.
Working as household staff for an Enhanced family wasn't easy, though; depending on the family, you could be collar shocked for tiny things. You were expected to carry out all duties flawlessly for eighteen hours a day, six days a week, and ten hours on the seventh day. Physical punishment was also common; the thought of it made the scars on Jean's back tingle a little. His past employer, Nile Dawk, certainly had been liberal with a whip.
If you weren't up to what your employer's standard was, you could easily be denied your wage. Wages were tiny enough anyway; barely enough to make ends meet in the first place. And of course, like the supposed maid who had been killed; you were in constant danger from the Enhanced. Guards could beat you for fun, nobody would care. Guards could use your collar for fun, they wouldn't be stopped. Teenage boys could kill the staff if they wanted, and they wouldn't even be scolded. And after putting up with all of that, you'd come home to an Unenhanced community where everyone hated you for working with the enemy.
It was enough to make Jean want to turn around.
For Odette, he thought.
He let the guards at the gravity pod check his papers. Anyone Unenhanced had to have the right papers before travelling up. These ones had been issued to him after he had applied for the job. Jean knew they were in order, but he was still jittery and nervous as they scanned them. He was half expecting them to somehow know that he had been in Survey and arrest him (or worse, give him a ten there and then) and half expecting them to recognize him as the kid who was involved in the riot two days ago, but nothing happened. They shoved the papers back at him and searched him for any weapons he might have on him, before shoving him into the pod.
Jean hated the pods.
In fact, he hated Caelum. While working for Nile Dawk, he had been working in one of the highest buildings in the city, and he had hated it. As a child, Jean had dreamed of owning a big house in the sky. Of course, he was Unenhanced, and those naïve dreams were quickly crushed. Still; the first time he had gone to Caelum, he hadn't been able to suppress the tiny excited feeling in his stomach; after all, he had been going up to Caelum, the city in the clouds, literal heaven on earth.
He had hated it the moment the pod started moving. Jean had been terrified up there; all he could think of was the long, fatal drop. He had found out pretty quickly that he was not very good with heights. He still wasn't, and as the pod rushed upwards he felt his knees shake and hands tremble.
Jean thought he might get sick, but he squeezed his eyes shut, and the pod juddered to a halt.
Of course, for just an interview he wouldn't be going all of the way up.
There was an area of the Admin buildings, in a sort of no man's land between Caelum and Terra where meetings between the Enhanced and Unenhanced took place. This level in all of the buildings was reserved for storehouses and military barracks; far too low for the Enhanced to live, far too high for the Unenhanced to live. This was where job interviews tended to take place; the Enhanced only wanted as many Unenhanced in Caelum as was absolutely necessary.
Showing his papers again to the guards here, and after being searched again, he was escorted to a room.
Two guards were outside of the door, and four more stood inside the room. With the two guards escorting him practically breathing down his neck, Jean was brought to sit down into a chair. In front of him was a table, behind it another empty chair. The two escorting him left, leaving him alone with the other four.
The events of two days ago began to play in his head, and Jean couldn't help but grow nervous under their gazes. Any one of them could lash out at him right now. They could kill him and get away completely free, having caused nothing but a minor inconvenience.
The nerves didn't go away when the door opened and a man and a woman entered. The man was Enhanced, a tall man with broad shoulders, dark skin and hair, and freckles peppering his skin. The woman, Jean was surprised to note, was Unenhanced. She wore the standard black and white uniform all Unenhanced staff wore. Strawberry blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and despite her prettiness her eyes were hard. Neither were people to be messed with.
Wordlessly, the man sat in the chair opposite Jean while the woman stood behind him at a respectful distance.
"Let's be frank, and cut to the chase," the man said. "Most people like me would not go to the trouble to interview their own staff, but I'm not like most people. I'm a very busy man, and I hate wasting time, but I want to know what Unenhanced people are going to be serving my family. My name is Jeremiah Bodt and I will tolerate absolutely no nonsense – understand?"
Jean swallowed and nodded. His mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty, and it felt like there were snakes in his stomach.
"Good. Show me your papers."
This Jeremiah Bodt was obviously a leader of some sort; he demanded respect from everyone, and from the way he walked into the room, from his commanding tone of voice and body language, it was clear he was used to giving orders and being in charge. It was also clear that what he said was true; he would tolerate no bullshit.
If Jean was intimidated before, he was terrified now. Still, he handed over his papers.
It was unusual, true enough, for someone like him to interview his own staff. "Age?" he barked.
"Seventeen, sir."
"Hm. One of the reasons I'm the one sitting across from you is I'm looking for someone specific. The opening we have is serving my son, and I want a boy close to his own age serving him."
Jean said nothing – Mr. Bodt hadn't said anything that would need a reaction from him. The nerves twisted more fiercely – if he was hired, he'd be working for the son, the one that had killed the other maid.
"Says here that you worked for Nile Dawk for two years when you were younger. Why did you leave? Were you fired?"
"No, sir. I left."
"Why?"
To join Survey. "To care for my sister. She's ill. Sir."
"Family history?"
"My mother worked as a maid for Nile Dawk for many years before I did. I never knew my father, he left when I was young."
"Does your mother still work for him? Is your father dead?"
"No. I don't know about my father."
"Where's your mother now?"
"She disappeared a few years ago. I haven't spoken to her since."
"Hm. Petra?" he asked, turning in his seat to address the blonde. "Have you looked into the Archive's file on him?"
"Yes, sir. His name is Jean Kirschtein, and everything he has said is in accordance with his file. His mother worked for Mr. Dawk for nearly twenty years. She disappeared three years ago, on her way back to Terra. The disappearance wasn't looked into. The file didn't mention his father at all. Only surviving known family at the moment is a younger sister, she's quite sickly. And there's a report about him from Mr. Dawk's head of staff."
Jeremiah Bodt was silent for a few minutes, deep in thought.
"Listen, Kirschtein. I'm a busy man, and I don't have the time to interview every goddamned teenager from Terra. So far, you're the only one the right age who has applied for the job that seems anyway reliable. If you survived at Dawk's for as long as you did, you must be. You're not hired yet, but we'll have you work with us for a two week trial, to see if you're suitable. If you're still with us, we'll hire you. Any objections?"
"No, sir."
"Didn't think you would."
Mr. Bodt addressed one of the guards. "I have a meeting in an hour. Prepare a hovercar to bring me to the Royal Palace. Escort Ral and Kirschtein back to my home."
"Remember, only speak when spoken to. Make sure to stay a respectable distance away at all times; one and a half meters away, at least. Of course, an exception is when your duty calls to come closer; for example, if you're helping to service the young master's arm, or if you're bringing something to him. Keep your head bowed; it's a sign of respect and humility, and it tells them we know our place. They like that; they like to feel secure in that way. Always call them sir or madam – you'll be working mostly around the young master, so you don't need to worry about the madam part too much. You'll sleep in the servant's dorms – it's on the same level as the break room where we just were, and you need to wear the communicator device at all times. If the young master requires your services, he'll use it to contact you. It's fitted into your collar and believe me, when it's rung, you'll know. No matter what you're doing, you must go to him immediately. Breakfast is served at 8am sharp, dinner at 8pm. If you miss a meal, you go hungry. Stealing isn't tolerated under any circumstances. Now, to go over the names again, the master of the house is Jeremiah Bodt, his wife is Elena. His younger sister, Ilse is often around too, as well as her daughter Ymir and of course, the young master Marco. This corridor leads to…"
Jean tuned her out, focusing on picking up his surroundings. After a horrible journey from the Admin buildings to the house, he had been stunned at the sheer size of it. It seemed unbelievable that only one family and their servants lived here. He had been given a brief tour of the servants' quarters by Petra Ral, the head of staff in the household, before being given his new uniform.
One of the things he hadn't missed was the uniforms. Stiff black trousers, uncomfortable black shoes and light white shirts with low shirt collars – so their metal collars could be seen more clearly. Then there were the tags; two tags on slim chains, one around his neck and one on his wrist, used to identify himself. The other new addition was the little communication device set into his collar. Jean hated it all already; just being in the uniform was bringing back painful memories.
"Oi. Kirschtein. Are you even listening to me?"
Petra clicked her fingers in front of his face. Petra Ral was the head of staff in the Bodt household, and although she was much smaller than him, she was intimidating in her own way. Although not as terrifying as Mr. Bodt, she definitely had a no-nonsense aura around her.
"Y-yes, of course, Ms. Ral."
She sighed. "Listen kid, I read your file. The head of staff over at Dawk's wrote about you on it."
"Really? What did he say?"
"He said that you're a smart-ass to those around you that aren't Enhanced. He also said you walk a very fine line; never straying enough to lose your job, but straying enough to become familiar with Nile Dawk's whip."
Jean winced, turning his head away slightly. He could practically hear the crack of the whip. "That was a while ago, though; I'm not as bad anymore."
"You better not be. In Dawk's you were just general staff, here you've a much more specific role. Marco Bodt is eighteen, nearly finished school, and will be the head of security in a few years' time. He's one of the brightest kids his age."
"He's the one that killed his old maid, yeah?"
Petra didn't miss a beat, but her expression hardened slightly. "Shut your mouth kid. You'll need to watch your tongue around him."
"Sorry." He really wasn't very sorry.
"All the time you're here, you have to make yourself available to him if he needs you. You'll accompany him everywhere – apart from school. If he explicitly tells you to leave him alone, you come to me, understand?"
"Understood. But why? Did his last maid follow him around the whole time?"
Petra ran a hand through her short hair. "Listen…that's another reason your job is so specific. Mr. Bodt wants you to keep an eye on his behavior, and he's going to check up on you every so often to see how he's getting along."
Jean frowned. This wasn't exactly what he had thought would come with the job description. "So I'm spying on him?"
"No! You're just…keeping an eye out for unusual behavior. Anyway, you tend to anything he needs. He tells you to do something, you do it. You stay with him all day Monday through Saturday, minus school hours. On Sundays, you stay with him til 5 pm, and then you're free until 6am on Monday morning."
"Basically I'm his personal slave during those hours."
"Exactly! You are a quick learner. While he's at school, there's a list of chores you need to do; cleaning his living areas, mostly. And when you're finished those, you find me and help out with the more general tasks. When he comes home, you meet him at the door, and you barely leave his side until it's time for bed. And so the cycle repeats itself."
"Sounds thrilling."
"We get paid for this, Kirschtein. It doesn't have to be thrilling."
That was true. Jean just nodded. "When do I start?"
"You seem ready. Now."
"Now?"
"Now. You have the tiny map I gave you? His bedroom is marked on it. I went through basic rules, and I'm sure you had them drilled into you at Dawk's anyway."
Jean grunted. "I'll say."
Petra gave him a pat on the back. "Off with you, then. Introduce yourself to him, then shut up and do as he says. Remember, only speak when asked a question, and be polite! Any problems and you come to be. Believe what you will, but I'm on your side."
Jean gave her a small smile. Crazily enough, Petra reminded him of his mother. He thought of Odette, down in Terra. He had already arranged it with Mikasa that she would look after her when she could if Jean got the job. Even though he knew she was in good hands, the thought of his sister made his stomach clench in worry.
Jean didn't like working for the Enhanced – he hated it. He hated being up in Caelum, he hated being up in the sky, he hated the master of the house already. But hell, he would put up with it if it would pay for his sister's medication. A new determination burned in his stomach.
"Oh, and Jean," Petra caught his attention again.
She glanced to make sure they were alone before lowering her voice. "Watch out, okay? Marco Bodt…despite what you may have heard about him, he's a good kid. He really is."
Jean seriously doubted that, especially if he had killed someone – Unenhanced, or not – for no apparent reason.
Petra continued. "Compared to the rest of the Enhanced, he treats us well enough. I don't know what happened the other day with his maid, though. But listen; no matter how friendly, or nice he is to you, you need to remember that he's Enhanced. He's not like you or me; in a few years he'll be the one persecuting people like us. Be wary of him. Nothing good can come from being friends with him, so promise me you'll keep your guard up?"
Petra's warning made him even more uneasy. Jean was beginning to doubt his decision to come up here, but a job was a job. Besides, he wasn't going to go and be pally with some Enhanced bastard. "I promise. Seriously – you don't have to worry about me becoming friends with an Enhanced person."
Petra gave him a smile, and when she smiled her whole face lit up and became softer. She looked younger for a moment. "You seem like a good kid, Kirschtein. See you around."
Jean knocked on the polished oak door three times, and took a deep breath, painfully aware of the collar around his throat when he breathed.
"Who is it?" The voice that came from within was warm and friendly.
Jean stood up straight, clasping his hands behind his back. Watch your tongue, he thought to himself. "I'm your new servant, sir," he said, speaking clearly and trying to keep his voice even.
"Oh – I didn't think you'd be here this quick. Come in."
This was it.
Who knew what the person beyond the door would be like? Jean took a deep breath before opening it.
The bedroom was huge; Jean could have fit his apartment in here comfortably four times. It was a beautiful room, decorated tastefully. A huge window took over much of one of the walls, flooding the room with natural light. The carpet under his feet was springy and soft, and as well as the large bed in the center of the room, there was a lot of other furniture; a desk, table and chairs, sofas and bookshelves. There was even a balcony opening out from the window. Someone could probably live completely in here, Jean thought.
And then, he saw him; Marco Bodt. He stood up from where he had been sitting on one of the sofas, and Jean's heart froze. Same dark hair and dark skin, same freckles dotting across his skin, same sleek metal arm, same eye patch covering one eye, same tall frame.
He had been one of the assholes who had shocked him and Odette.
"You," Marco breathed. "You're the one from before!"
Jean opened his mouth, but bit his tongue before he began to yell. Behind his back, his hands were clenching into fists. Just his fucking luck, of all the bratty Enhanced teenage boys he had to serve, it had to be this one.
He shut his mouth and clenched his jaw, looking down in what he hoped looked like a somewhat respectful stance.
Marco stood awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. "What's your name?" he asked. He was still shaken after the incident with the old maid. No matter what he told himself…he had killed her, and he wasn't comfortable with that fact. He hoped the same thing wouldn't happen with his new servant, and now, out of all people to stand before him, it was the kid whose sister Thomas and Nack had picked on.
He probably hates me, Marco thought.
"Jean," Jean replied quietly, not letting his eyes rise from the floor. His nails were digging into his palms, and he forced himself to stop. It wouldn't do to get blood on this fluffy white blanket.
What Marco said next surprised him.
"How is that girl?" he asked, voice…not quite timid, but cautious, as if he knew he was approaching a sticky area. "Was she your sister?"
Jean almost retorted with a "why do you care" but stopped himself at the last minute. It was strange, because he seemed almost genuine. Now that he thought of it, this was the one who had hesitated, right? He had hesitated before shocking Jean, even when his friends had encouraged him. "Yes, she's my sister." He didn't want to speak about Odette, not in front of this guy. "Sir," he added.
"Is she alright?"
Damn, he was persistent.
"No."
It was rude perhaps, too rude considering he had been on the job five minutes. The brief look of concern that splashed across Marco's freckled face was…confusing, to say the least. Why would he even care? He hadn't done anything to stop his friends from attacking them in the streets for no reason; he had murdered one of the Unenhanced, one of Jean's people for no reason.
"I'm sorry about what happened," he said. "My friends are…a bit wild." He laughed, and it was a nice sound, but it was not a laughing matter, and Jean was seriously tempted to lunge across the room and attempt to gouge his good eye out.
"Anyway," Marco continued. Although he wasn't intimidating like his father, he definitely held a somewhat similar presence. When he said something, he was expecting it to be done. "There are a few things I need you to do, okay? First of all, you can take the laundry basket downstairs and…"
Once again, Jean tuned out slightly.
All he could think about was his own bad luck; he had been unlucky enough to have to serve this asshole. And the worst thing was that he wasn't an outright asshole in the first place.
He suppressed a sigh, feigned attention, and silently got to work. There were quite a few things he would have loved to say to this Marco Bodt, but for once in his life, he held his tongue.
It was going to be a long day.