Fourteen.
A Strange Sort of Sighting

Every morning without fail men showed up looking for work in the shipyard just outside of Chennai. Sega was one of these uneducated laborers and every morning he was standing with the others at the ship yard ready to go to work on whatever was offered to him.

He may have slept on Kappa House's couch from time to time, but he was no mooch. He was determined to work. He only made so much a day, not really enough to survive off of after he sent a portion back to his sisters on The Outpost. But enough so that he didn't feel as if he was leeching off of Corsten. And to be honest, Sega liked to work. He enjoyed having something to do that occupied his time, especially if it was outside. If he had worked hard all day it made relaxing, drinking and partying that much more enjoyable at night.

There had been a few times when Corsten had attempted to get him to go to school. He told Sega he was smart and could make a whole lot more money with at least a primary education under his belt. The university offered evening courses for that, after all. Wouldn't it be such a waste not to take advantage of it? Each and every time Corsten had tried to get him to enroll, Sega had turned him down. The truth was the young man could barely write his own name. Growing up, whenever someone had attempted to teach him to read letters and numbers swam crazily before his eyes. It was impossible for him to recognize the same symbol twice. By the time anyone bothered to diagnose him with dyslexia, it was too late and Sega had dropped out of school to go to work.

It was a little after 7 am when the truck pulled up along side them and the driver leaned out to announce he had work for 5 men that morning. Instantly, the five closest jumped into the bed of the truck, Sega among them. It didn't matter what the work was, as long as it was something to do.

He hunkered down along side the others as the truck circled the yard and headed back towards town. The five men rode in silence. Sega recognized one or two of them, workers that were at the yard every day like he was. He gave them each a nod and a sort of grin and he got at least one back. The others in the truck were new faces to him. One was leaning over his knees and looking at Sega strangely.

"What's with your eyes, man?"

"What?" Sega blinked at him.

"Your eyes, man," the guy repeated. He reached up and pointed at his own eyes, "They're, like, two different colors."

Sega frowned a bit. Why did people feel the need to point out things he already was aware of? His left eye was green. His right eye was blue. Not a green and a blue that was at all similar to each other, but deep royal blue and a bright emerald green.

"You born that way?"

Sega gave the man a sort of malicious looking smirk, "Now, if I could afford contacts, ya think I'd be ridin' back 'ere wit' tha lot o' you?"

A couple others chuckled a bit and shook their heads. The man across from Sega lapsed into silence and the rest of the ride was spent with no more conversation. No one was here to make friends.

They arrived at a large gray warehouse where many other large shipping trucks were parked in the back. The truck came to a stop and the man who had hired them got out. He instructed the men that they would be unloading the shipping trucks and moving the cargo inside the ware house. The utmost care had to be taken as the cargo was quite fragile. Each man would be paid $50 for their time.

As he did with most jobs, Sega jumped straight into work moving the large cargo crates. They were heavy and cumbersome. The trucks were musty, dusty and were more than just a little too warm inside. The warehouse wasn't much better. It was moist and humid inside and the air seemed stagnant. Sega never complained, though even after only an hour, he was sweating hard. He had paused to take a quick breather and gulp down some water that was being offered to the workers when he saw the car. It was a nice car, black with shining chrome wheels and grill. It wasn't a limo, but it was a car with a driver, that was for sure. The back windows were tinted. Sega watched as a young woman and a young man walked to the car. The young man stepped ahead to open the door for the woman. She paused before getting in. It looked as though the two were having a conversation and the girl looked quite annoyed. As Sega watched he felt his mouth go dry. He knew this girl. He knew her long green hair and her matching eyes. Knew her body language. Knew the gestures she was making. He knew her, but he was sure he had never seen her before in his life.

Venus.

"Hey, what are you looking at?"

Sega quickly turned towards the man who had hired him that day, "What...I'm sorry, I just…" he looked back over his shoulder and then pointed, "who is that? Her names not Venus by any chance is it?"

The man looked at him strangely, "Of course not. That's Lady Mercedes Della Robea. Her family owns this whole place. Including the boxes you are being paid to move." The man folded his arms and leveled Sega with a look that stated plainly he would be fine not giving Sega a dime.

"Right, right," Sega hurried back towards the truck. He couldn't shake the odd feeling though. The name meant nothing to him, but he was sure, absolutely sure that he knew that girl. Knew her very, very well. Knew her to the point that he could almost tell instantly what she was thinking. Mercedes? No... he knew her as something else. As Venus.