There is a place
Where slavery exists
Where life comes cheap
Where you will die
If you are ugly.
How do I know?
I live there.
From The Silent Scream by Hilde Schbeiker
Who am I? A number. At least, that's what they would tell you. Who are they? Anyone and everyone who works for him. Quatre Winner, who owns the estate, who owns us. Not that I or any of us blame him, it's only those who work under him that make our lives this way. Who are we? We are the Asthemes, Feline Humans. Freaks of nature, that's what we are. Slender cat ears, bushy tails, retractable claws, unnaturally small noses and feet, and powerful, slender bodies. Night vision, hound hearing, we can smell anything. Our flaw is in our skin- fair and beautiful, but it gasps with the cold that should be taken care of by the fur we don't have, and leaves us willing to do nearly anything for a bit of warmth. It is by that need that they can control us. If we were to run away, as some do on occasion, we would die the first cold night. As it is, the mansion is in the middle of a huge desert, and the humans around us come to work scarcely clad in the humid environment. All they have to do is put us outside for one night, and the cool desert night will deal our punishment. Often they will put out those of us who rebel on nights before inspection, to see that we behave. It isn't a way anyone should live.
Anyone but slaves. But us. Slaves to the human race, most of us destined to be sold to rich families who don't want but the most obedient maids. We are taught obedience here, and if we pass, we are sold. In fact, that's exactly where I'm heading now- to be inspected by a possible buyer. I'm one of the cheapest creatures they've got, so either this person had a small wallet or I'm to be sold to someone not exactly in search of a housekeeper.
I neatened myself up as I approached the brightly-lit room- I was dressed as required, in a simple black dress with white trim and disgusting black mary jane's. My hair was tidily trimmed to my chin, with bangs about an inch long and a black beret in front of my dark blue ears completed the "perfect" outfit.
Eyes lowered and dress perfect, I entered the room with small, dainty steps as I had been taught. It was important that I be sold to the first person I appeared to- if I wasn't, I would be discounted and my chances of being sold as a toy would drastically increase.
I halted when my feet set place precisely in the center of the circular rug, and closed my eyes for inspection, focusing all of my mind on not shivering in what I considered an incredibly cold room.
"This," began the man, "is one of our best deals. She's fresh out of her classes, not even a week ago she earned her papers- I believe you have them there in your hand, sir, page ten. A beautiful female, dark blue-violet hair, a little dry and difficult but there are worse. Eyes," he began, and on cue, I looked up and straight ahead, past the buyer to the wall, "of a lovely cornflower blue, and of a beautiful shape as well." As he finished the sentence, I again closed my eyes and dropped my chin. "Her hands," he began, lifting lightly my right hand, "are slim and delicate, with nails," he said as I gently extended my claws, "that are smooth and easily filed down, which we recommend that you check every half week to make sure that she is keeping them down." I retracted what could become deadly weapons in a week. He let my hand fall; I slowed it to rest by my side. "Sir, would like to inspect her yourself?"
"Hn," I heard my buyer respond. I sighed in my mind- good, then he hadn't lost interest yet. "Leave," he said crisply. I tensed up at this comment- so then, that's what he was. Perhaps it would be best to start acting up now- there was still a small chance that when my price lowered I would be sold to someone as a servant rather than a night doll. No, I would be punished, it was best to be bought and then to escape well dressed and run; usually his type was careless about his Astheme. I had heard of a handful of successful runaways after being sold.
"Of course, sir- but please keep in mind that we are monitoring everything that is going on in this room, and that if I leave this room I am no longer responsible for her actions," he said, a bit annoyed.
"Hn," he replied. I waited, patiently remaining in the same stance I had been in for the past five minutes or so as I had been shown off. Instead, I heard him walking away from me, his shoes clicking across the wooden floor to the painting I knew was set on a far wall- I heard the scraping of the frame against the off-white wall as he reached behind it and fiddled with the wiring behind it. I smiled inwardly despite my fright- I had watched inspections many times, and not once had anyone tried to fiddle with the camera set in the old man's eye in the painting.
My amusement disappeared as I heard him turn towards me. "It's playing a loop of me looking at the painting," he said roughly. "Now act as you would if you were not in my presence." This statement surprised me a great deal, but I did as he bid. I opened my eyes and walked past him to look at the painting he had toyed with. I lifted it up, examined the job he had done for a few minutes, then looked at the colors of the wires to see how they had originally been hooked up and then changed. When I thought that I had pretty much memorized it, I looked down at the floor and went along the row of wood five rows from the wall the painting hung on until I came to the third piece's farthest end, and I then used my long, strong, smooth index claw to lift the board gently. This was one of the two loose boards on the first floor of the estate, and the only one for the first three levels that would allow you access to telephone lines. I reached one of my hands cautiously beneath the wood and felt for the wire. When I felt the narrow rubber, I pulled up harshly, snapping the lines, and quickly let go and replaced the board to exactly as it was.
"That's enough," I heard him say. I gasped inwardly- when he had told me to act as though he weren't there, I had listened all to well, I realized. I really had convinced myself that he wasn't there; boy, I was in for it now. I returned quickly to my place on the circular rug, facing where he had been sitting ten minutes ago, and assumed the correct posture. "Tell me," he began, "what you just did."
I swallowed harshly- I could not tell him, knew that it was impossible. As infants in this place, we had all been taught that speech was punishable by two days to a week outside. I parted my lips cautiously and whispered, "I studied what you did to the camera and cut the telephone wires for this wing of the building." I closed my mouth and shivered involuntarily at the thought of my cold nights ahead.
"Speak louder."
I tried to gulp down my dry tongue to no avail. I breathed deeply and whispered louder, "I studied what you did to the camera and cut the telephone wires for this wing of the building."
"Hn," he replied. "Why?" He commanded.
"So that I could do what you did to the camera and because if the telephones are cut then it will take some of the people who work here to fix them, and there will be less supervisors for the rest of us." I breathed deeply, unused to so much speech.
"Hn. Very well," he commented. I heard the clicking of his shoes as he went back to the painting and repaired the wiring. He then turned back toward me and walked up. "Open your mouth." I parted my lips and raised my head to allow him to look inside. An Astheme's teeth are almost identical to a normal human's, except for our eyeteeth, which are slightly longer and sharper. After checking my teeth, he checked my arms, hands, and ankles for irregularity before returning to his original chair. "I'm finished," he declared, and the man who had earlier shown me returned.
"Shall I have her leave?" He asked with a pleasant smile. I felt my muscled arms tense up within there long sleeves as I waited for him to dismiss me, so that the next Astheme could be shown to him. I had already seen him dismiss seven others- with my behavior, I didn't see how he could not dismiss me.
"No. Give me the papers." I felt my body shake in surprise. How was this possible? Surely he was going to sell me- or perhaps he had run the same routine with the others and only I had done exactly what he asked. No matter- I was out of here!
~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't own Gundam Wing.