Generation

by Ameraka

Just recovering from the events of A New Life, Connie and Jason are invited to an event that they think will be a new start. But soon they meet an old friend and are enticed into a world of intrigue and mystery while Whit is on a secret mission of his own. What will these events mean for the future of the Whittaker family? Warnings: violence, rape mention-human trafficking

64. Party

A/N:

Warning - Here we deal a bit more directly with the reality of human trafficking (at least for the people in the story). Focusing not just on what happens before or after, but facing the horrific things the slaves have to endure. It doesn't get too graphic, but the evil of the traffickers is on full display. Having no regard whatsoever for the feelings of the people they enslave. And there are a lot of incidents, and a lot of people hurt.

If you would rather not read about this, you can skip to the next chapter.

Or just read the beginning, until they go to the ballroom, or until Zar appears, the entitled rich young man whose birthday it is. Skip to the end perhaps so you get the general gist of where we will pick up from next time.

---

"Jason?" Gray said incredulously.

"You didn't know I was here?"

Gray shook his head, turning toward him stiffly. "I was in the other wings. I've got to be on human trafficking rotation now. So…how did you get here."

Jason patted the bench next to him. Slowly Gray walked closer but didn't sit down. He touched the shiny orange leaves absently.

"It was…kind of the same as with you," said Jason. "I couldn't let them take James."

"They took the prince?" Gray grasped the branch, as if for support.

"They offered to exchange him for Luna."

Gray nodded, understanding in his eyes. "So you…"

"Well—Roderick was going to go instead, but I took his place."

"The only reason I went—was for Tasha. They offered me freedom, but I had no illusions about what would happen. I have freedom, of a sort, but…." His eyes fell.

He sauntered over to the bench and sat beside Jason, hunched over, arms leaning on his thighs. He stared into the distance as if unseeing the beauty around him.

"So—you're not a slave?" A sort of sneaking resentment crept up on him. But then, how could he expect Gray to choose slavery?

"I'm on probation, a potential agent. They can't trust me with much yet. I've…got to prove myself here. Or…" Fear filtered over his face.

"So you chose to work for them."

"I chose to come here. Face possible slavery. But they gave me a choice. To be broken—or to choose to join them. I've already been broken. I couldn't believe they'd actually want me for anything other than a slave. But they promised me—" A desperate hope lit his eyes. "They promised to make me an agent again."

"That's what you've always wanted." Bitterness bit into Jason's voice.

"I'll be free. Free of the Agency. Free of—threat of going back to her." Jason realized he meant Vivian. "Free to be who I am."

"And you'll go back to how you were. You belong with them after all." He turned from Gray, shivering with resentment and a return of the fear he'd felt in his presence.

Gray turned to him, anguished. "Don't you see? I couldn't go back to that. It was either be a slave or be part of them. I don't necessarily want to be part of anything. I want true independence. But this was the best offer I had in a long time. Perhaps, eventually…. I can break free of here. But I couldn't do that if I were…broken. Knowing how fragile I am—I would just become a useless lump of flesh. This way—I have hope."

"And so you'll torture others."

"I…." He shook his head. "They'll want me to do that. I…have to come to terms with it. But it's too close, now. I can't even think of it directly or—I panic. If they see me panicking, they'll…" He shuddered. "I've only glimpsed some of the slavery here. But…what is done to them…."

"You'd make them feel what I felt. You're not repentant after all."

"There really is no choice." He looked at Jason wonderingly. "You…actually chose to be a slave?"

Jason nodded, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Gray. If Jason didn't have a strong moral foundation, he might have chosen otherwise. Although he could hardly imagine it. Still, choosing slavery… it was worse than death.

Buried here… a hellish torment until I fall apart….

It began to close in on him. He wrested himself out of the fog of panic. His hands clenched, fingernails burrowing into his palms.

Pain I choose…pain to keep me awake, keep me sane…

How is that sane, part of him said, but it was a mere whisper.

"It was the only choice I could make," said Jason. "Take Roderick's place, and—not give in to them. I don't want pain—you know." He looked at Gray with irony and camaraderie.

The ghost of a sad smile flitted over Gray's lips. "I am sorry for what… I did to you." His voice lowered to a whisper, barely audible above the fans. "I can't…stomach torture. Perhaps that's wrong in an agent. I should be cold, merciless. They'll see through me if I don't watch it…. But every time I see the victims…. I feel sick. I probably should overcome that. Or they'll see it as weakness, and I will… become a slave by default." He looked down, rubbing his shoes in the woodchips.

"If you can somehow…survive…without becoming a slave—I don't want you to go back to that, either. If you can sabotage their efforts…. Or at least…avoid torturing people—"

"I don't know if I can avoid that."

"You've come so far. It'll damage your soul."

"Being raped has damaged my soul," he said fiercely. "I won't let it happen again."

"Just being here—even as an agent—is a sort of slavery."

"Don't you think I know that?" Then he looked down, his hands grasping the edge of the slate bench, knuckles white. "If… if it comes to that…." He looked at Jason, tentatively, yet a conviction in his eyes. "I won't torture you. I'll make up some excuse—anything. Even if it means…." His voice trailed off; doubt suffused his face.

"Maybe…there's a way out—"

Gray looked at him with startled horror. "You've already said one of the forbidden words."

"What? Sabo—"

Gray clamped his hand over Jason's mouth. "Don't say it again!"

"Mm-mmm—mm," said Jason against Gray's hand, alarmed sparks going off in his mind, warning him that Gray was too close. Could hurt him. Was probably going to strangle him any second—

He pushed Gray away and Gray stood, gasping. "I'm sorry—I'll…leave." Guilt shot through his eyes. He turned and almost ran into someone.

"Oh, hey!" said Lila. "It was great meeting you the other day."

"Same here," mumbled Gray.

"We've got a lot to work on! But we'll get there." She clasped his arm gently. He flinched and subtly slid away from her grasp. "I was just coming to tell you you're invited to the party tonight."

"What party," said Gray.

"Elena's throwing Zar his twenty-seventh birthday party!"

"I don't know…."

"It's strongly encouraged that you go. If you want to be seen as the proactive potential agent."

"Why is a party required?"

"It's not required, just encouraged. You'll have fun. You'll also show you're one of us. Perhaps even Admin material." She turned to Jason and Gray glided swiftly away, like a living shadow.

"Hey, Jason!" said Lila. "How're you doing."

"Good."

"It's about time to prep. Let's go find you a gorgeous outfit."

"I'd rather not."

She laid a hand on her hip. "Now, don't be like that. You'll be glad you went."

"I don't know…."

"You won't come to any harm with me there. Even if someone gets out of hand." She closed a fist, displaying her considerable muscles.

"Will Kell be there?"

"He'll be otherwise occupied. He doesn't care much for parties."

"Doesn't surprise me," muttered Jason.

Lila laughed.

He supposed he should go… just to get more intel…. More lay of the land… even if he wasn't sure he would be punished if he didn't.

Lila guided him down the residential hallway a few doors down from Elena's. Her door was lavender with flowers on it. She pressed her thumb to the keypad and stepped inside. When Jason lingered in the hallway, not eager to be trapped in another room, she gestured to him. "You're safe with me."

Jason reluctantly stepped inside. There was a smooth lavender rug and purple couches. A few chairs were melon orange. It was sleek and sensible, not the elaborate luxury of Elena's room. A television was on the wall and a window looked out onto gentle rolling hills and a mountain lake. The window was on the wall to the right, but it didn't make sense, because he knew the room wasn't in a corner.

Probably just a projection, he thought. More illusion to disorient us, make us lose sense of time and space.

She beckoned him through another door—to the bathroom.

He shook his head, standing beside the couch awkwardly.

"Come on in, I've got a nice bath drawn for you."

"I just took a shower."

"Up here, we get to take as many showers or baths as we want. Me, I prefer baths. Let's get you cleaned up for your fancy clothes."

"I think I'll just go back downstairs."

"Now, don't be obstinate. If you are, we might have to take…drastic measures."

"So you'd hurt me after all. For not going to a party."

"We're just trying to give you a good time. We want you to know how good it can get."

"If you really know me, you'd know these kinds of things won't tempt me. You might as well get it over with and…start hurting me."

She planted a hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. But I might not have a choice. Someone else may come… I won't be able to stop him."

"You mean Kell."

"Perhaps. There are others. The ones who are eager to mete out punishment. That's why that's their job."

Jason recalled his mission. He would learn more if he wasn't being hurt… that time would come all too soon anyway. They'd lose patience with him. He'd resist them too often, the more the further they went.

Hating the idea of taking a bath, especially if Lila insisted on staying, he sauntered into the bathroom. There was a large tub in the center of the room with golden legs. The color of sunset. Vague ribbing like a shell on its edge.

Lila gestured to it. "There's a showerhead above, if you like. But I think you might prefer luxury after the showers downstairs."

She showed him the shelf for shampoo and bodywash beside the tub and the rack for the towels along the wall. "Would you like any help?"

He shook his head.

"I'll be out here if you need me." She gave a little wave and then shut the door.

He took a deep breath. It might be luxurious to take a bath, but he still felt vulnerable. She could come in at any time. It was a little strange taking a bath in her private suite. Did she have designs on him too beyond purely professional interest?

He rather numbly assembled the towel and shampoo he wanted. Then he lowered himself into the water.

Sinking beneath water that smelled of roses.

I can hide here.

The water rippled above him, the white ceiling distorted.

I'll hold my breath, and Ramon's guards won't even see me, and I can escape….

His lungs began to ache, so reluctantly, he slid upward and was surprised to see a completely different room than he'd expected, as if he'd dived underwater and then swum upwards into another world.

For all he knew, this was another world. He had been here so long, time stretched out and contracted artificially. He wasn't sure how many days it had been.

He washed himself quickly, intending to get out in a moment, but then he thought. Perhaps I can stay here. If I'm here, I can't go to the party.

He lay back against the tub, reveling in the warm water. His mind drifted to the one he loved.

She was here with him, and he was scrubbing her back gently. He slid his fingers into her hair, which wasn't yet damp. Golden strands glinted in it. He drew some to his lips and kissed them. She turned to him and laughed, her green eyes gazing into his soul.

He pressed his hand to her heart, feeling the thump-thump against his palm. She grasped the back of his neck and drew him into a kiss…. It built, along with their passion—

A tap on his shoulder. He whirled around, the water sloshing, splashing into his face.

Lila smiled down at him. "Can't stay in there forever."

She held out a lavender towel for him, turning her head, and he snatched it from her and wrapped it around his waist.

"Jason," she said. "That's another thing you never have to worry about with me. I don't swing that way, if you know what I mean."

"You mean—"

"Not even a little bit. We can be complete pals. Nothing else between us to mess it up."

He didn't know about that, but it did feel nice not to have to worry about at least one person taking advantage of him. His body completely off-limits.

Could she even be an ally…? Is such a thing possible in this place?

Someone who could even help me get out?

Can I trust anyone enough to escape?

Lila led him back into the living room. "It's kind of fitting I like purple."

"How come?"

"Because my name means purple in some languages. I love lilacs too."

She convinced him he needed a haircut, and he sat on one of the chairs as she snipped the tips of his hair. Then sprayed some hairspray and ran her fingers through it, pulling some ends up then giving it a light ruffle. She pressed her fingers together. "Perfect."

Then she slipped into the next room and brought out a suit which glistened an iridescent purple. "I hope you don't mind I indulged my own preferences. But I know you'll look gorgeous in it."

He shrugged. It didn't really matter what he wore, as long as he wore something.

She left for her room, and he swiftly put on the clothes. There was no tie, just a white ruffled shirt beneath the suit jacket. It fit snugly but comfortably. He looked in the mirror and had to admit he did look rather striking. And Lila had done a good job on his hair; it was close to how he usually wore it, but a little more elaborate.

Lila came back in and held out a few bottles of cologne. He tested each and then settled on a rich spicy fragrance with hints of lilac.

"Would you like some makeup?" she asked.

"I don't think I need makeup…."

"Let me do it for you! You'd look great in eyeliner. Perhaps a light lip stain."

"Will you torture me if I don't?"

"Of course not. At least let me get some shimmer." She whirled around and returned with a container of shimmering gold. He let her rub some on his face, sprinkle some into his hair, and then she stepped back with a satisfied look. "Aren't you beautiful." Her eyes glittered, and Jason wasn't sure, but a hint of jealousy shadowed her eyes.

Lila led him to the ballroom where several people were gathered, talking, holding wine glasses. The chandelier splashed rainbows onto the golden wall, making everything shimmer as if this were a dazzling dream. Further away to the left in the shadows was a stage, chairs gathered in front of it. Tables were lined up along the back edge near the theater area, chairs beside them facing the checkered dance floor. Along the side near the door were some tables filled with drinks and hors d'oeuvres. A tiger paced in a cage at the front of the room. Several peacocks, one white, wandered around. In each corner of the dance floor were raised cages, and Jason's heart stopped.

Inside the cages were children.

In the cage nearest was Alelu.

He rushed over to her. Grasped the golden bars. "Alelu—are you alright?"

She looked up at him, startled, then nodded. She was curled up along the furthest side, wearing a white lacy dress. Her curls were pulled back in a French braid. Little butterflies were clipped in her hair.

"Do you want out?"

She shook her head. "It's…safer in here."

"Just let me know if you need help."

She hesitated, a wondering look in her eyes, then nodded. "We… didn't know where you were. Are you okay?"

"I went to the doctor, then they made me go to this party."

"I wish I didn't have to come…"

"It's horrible they put you in a cage. But maybe it's a good thing I'm here, so I can watch out for you."

"Hey," said Lila. She waved at Alelu.

Alelu skuttled as far back as she could, pressing back against the bars. Lila laughed. "Aw, isn't she cute? You've met her, I take it."

Jason nodded, his heart racing.

"She is the most beautiful child here, in my opinion."

"There should be no children here."

"We take great care of them, don't we, princess." Lila stuck her hands into the cage as if she were an animal at the zoo. "Little Alelu here gets the most wonderful things."

"She shouldn't be a slave."

"Perhaps I will free her when she's older. Come, let's check out the other side."

Reluctantly, Jason followed Lila, but gave Alelu a smile as he walked over the checkered floor to the carpeted strip on the other side. Several golden statues were lined up along the wall.

Except—they weren't statues.

They were scantily clad men and women, covered completely in gold. The one nearest was a pregnant girl who looked no older than 18.

"You can pick any one you like," said Lila.

Anger flashed through him. "I'm not taking a slave."

"Suit yourself. Just know this is one of the perks." She slid her finger along the teen girl's face, coming away with a smear of gold.

Devastated for these people, Jason walked along where Lila led, giving them a sympathetic gaze. Wondering if there was something he could do for them. One he realized looked familiar—she was the young woman who had been dragged away the other day.

"Marie?" he said softly.

"Yes, master?"

"Please don't call me that. I'm a slave like you. I won't hurt you. If you need any help—"

Lila rested her hand on Jason's shoulder. "None of that, now. They're here for one thing."

"What?"

"To be entertainment, of course. They may be chosen, they may not. If they're not, they'll stay as decoration. They're the most beautiful ones we have." She slid her hand over the chest of a man nearby; he shrank away from her.

She slapped his cheek. "No moving unless we tell you. Remember?"

He froze.

"You may move once."

He nodded.

"No flinching, either. Take what you're given. Good boy." She walked along the rest; Jason couldn't look at them anymore, ashamed to be with someone so brutal.

What will the Admins do to me if I'm kind to the slaves?

My mission….

But how far is too far? How much should I put up with?

I sacrifice for someone I know, but not a complete stranger….

Lila led him over to the stage. In front of it, on the floor, were several teenage boys, chained, wearing short, golden, roman-like tunics. One got up as he passed and held out his arm, although he looked miserable.

Lila pressed the boy's hand away. "Don't waste your energy on this one. He's not into that."

The boy withdrew, sinking listlessly.

Jason couldn't stand this. He strode away from Lila, toward the door.

A wheelchair rolled in, a man pushing it. In the wheelchair was Ali. "Oh, hey Jason! I didn't know you'd be here."

"I'd rather not." I may learn something. I have to see if I can help Alelu. Stop just reacting.

"For me, this is a treat. I've been cooped up in Med for days. Finally I get out! But I can't walk yet." He tapped his thigh. He wore a traditional black tuxedo, his hair sleek with a dramatic wave in the front. His arm was in a black sling. "I mostly just have to observe. To see such a party though—I'm glad I'm out of the woods!"

"I don't see how you can enjoy slavery."

"Yeah, well—you know me. It's true I want a willing partner. But I do love spectacle! And I'd love to be able to dance…." He looked at Jason wistfully. "Would you like to dance with me?"

"I don't think so."

Ali pouted. "Then I'll probably be stuck as a wallflower, stuffing my face. Well—I'd probably look ridiculous dancing in a wheelchair anyway. And I'd probably hit someone…." He glanced back at the man behind him. "I can take it from here."

"Are you sure, sir."

"Yes, yes. Get out of here while you can."

The man nodded and darted out the door. Ali wheeled himself toward the nearest table, but stopped, his face weary. "Jason—I think I overestimated my strength."

Jason hesitated, then helped Ali over to the table. He was probably as close to an ally as he could get here, at least from the Yavesh people. Ali didn't treat Jason like property. Even though on the outside, Jason had wanted to stay away from if possible.

Jason adjusted the table lower, and Ali looked up at him gratefully. "Now I empathize with handicapped people," he said. "Thanks for all your help. I do hate being helpless. I'm used to being amazing." He winked.

"So what time is this party supposed to start?"

"As soon as Zar walks in."

"When will that be?"

"Whenever he feels like it. Don't worry, it won't be too late. He'll be eager to celebrate."

"Hey," said Lila, sitting down in the spare chair beside Jason.

"Oh, hi, Li," said Ali.

She rubbed Jason's shoulder. "I've done a spectacular job on him, wouldn't you say?"

"He's stunning. But then, he always is."

"I've enhanced his beauty, drawing out his gorgeous features."

"A good job for someone who prefers women."

"I appreciate all aesthetics."

"Same here. Of course, I'm not averse to both…."

"You do have your odd hangup, though."

He shrugged, then winced. "I can't help the way I'm made. I need someone who loves me—and that has to be someone who chooses me. Free will, you know."

Lila shook her head. "I'll never understand it. Why not take what you want?"

"Well, for one thing, sex is better when the person loves you."

"I don't know…."

Jason tuned them out. He looked over at Alelu, longing to set her free, although she hadn't wanted to leave the cage. Better a cage than any of these people touching her….

"….and he wouldn't even let me put on eyeliner!" said Lila, patting Jason's shoulder.

"Well, he would've looked beautiful in it," said Ali, sounding a little breathless. "Of course, the gold dust is just magic."

"It does enhance anyone that wears it. Would you like some?" She reached into her pocket.

Ali shook his head. "I don't feel particularly stunning today. Best if I blend into the shadows. Until I can actually do something." Frustration roughened his voice.

More people trickled in, fanned out around the room, admiring the "decorations." Elena walked in with several eagle-eyed guards flanking her. She wore a golden dress that flowed to the floor, and her hair was bound up, stuck with two golden pins. She looked every inch the empress she claimed to be. She glided around the room, the guards her constant shadows. Then she disappeared beyond Jason's vision, and reappeared with a wine glass, white wine sloshing in it, and headed toward Jason.

Jason braced himself for her onslaught.

"I hope you're enjoying yourselves," she said. "Please help yourself to any of the hors d'oeuvres or drinks."

"We will," said Lila.

Elena came up behind Jason and slid her hand into his hair. He froze, feeling trapped between Lila and Ali. Her hand slid down his neck; he prepared to pull away from her. But her hand withdrew. She whispered in his ear, "Your first dance will be with me." Then she floated away. "Marvelous job on him, by the way," her voice wafted back to Lila.

"Would either of you mind getting me a drink and a hors d'oeuvres?" said Ali. "It's a bit difficult…."

"Sure," said Jason. He wanted to check on Alelu anyway. He jumped up, glad to get away, intending to linger near the tables. Before he reached her, though, a crash resounded through the room. Clashing cymbals and trumpets built to a crescendo, along with dramatic violins.

A man in a golden iridescent suit marched in. He had blond wavy hair, his face haughtily handsome.

Zar.

The man who had brought Jason here.

Chills raced through him. He darted behind the tables.

Just as Zar entered, confetti and glitter rained down, along with golden balloons. A large cake was wheeled in. The cake shimmered gold, a sheer sheet of icing, with an elaborate golden bow on the top. Glitter spilled onto the cake. Candles were lit as if by magic, and music poured from them.

Zar clapped and rushed over to the cake. Glitter danced in his hair.

The birthday song hummed from the cake, and then he blew each candle out, one by one.

Elena glided up to him. "If you unwrap the bow, you'll find a wonderful present inside."

"Ooh!" said Zar. He tugged at the bow, which looked like it was made of taffy, perhaps marzipan. After a moment, it broke, and the cake fell sideways, caught by the sliding cake holder. A few stray pieces spilled onto the floor; golden chunks of cake tumbled sideways in a landslide.

Inside was a large box with a bow, miraculously spared most crumbs and frosting. Zar tugged at that bow, and the present sprang open.

A man unfolded from inside it—it didn't look like he could have fit in so small a box. His joints looked rather stiff; he stood stoically, his eyes downcast. He wore a golden suit, his face glittering with a golden, sparkling design. He had blond hair and vibrant blue eyes. His physique was flawless; Jason was jealous of how elegantly muscular it was, perfect for agent work.

Zar walked up to the man and touched his face. "Wow, he is exquisite."

"We saw you admiring him," said Elena.

"He's a golden boy, like me."

"I do know how you like the golden ones."

"He's fantastic."

"Yes, he is special, that's for sure. I would have taken him if you hadn't."

The slave's eyes flickered, a flare of anger in them. Jason tensed; thankfully, they weren't looking at the slave at the moment, and he disguised his anger as meekness when they looked back again.

"Come on down, beauty," said Zar.

The slave hesitated, then stepped down from the cake. Zar clasped his hand to his bicep. The slave flinched away. Zar's grasp tightened, his gaze flitting over him, lingering on several areas. Jason's face heated; he knew firsthand what that gaze felt like.

"What's his name?" said Zar.

"Serhii," said Elena.

"Ah, beautiful. Maybe I'll keep it. I'll probably call him by a nickname anyway. I do so love my Slavs. Their very name means slave." He grinned. "Particularly suited for slavery." He rubbed Serhii's chest. "You're spectacular, you know that?"

Serhii stayed stoic, as if his face was chiseled out of gold.

"We're going to have some fabulous times together. But now—I need to find out what my other presents are!"

More presents were wheeled out onto the floor. Zar knelt among them and insisted on Serhii staying at his side.

Jason said hi to Alelu, reassuring her he was close, and gathered some little cakes and crackers and a glass of wine. Then he returned to Ali.

"Sorry it took so long."

"Well, that's to be expected. Such a dramatic entrance!"

Jason set the items on the table and sat down.

"None for you?" said Ali.

"I'm not hungry."

"We'll have a banquet later. Thanks for this, by the way." He lifted a cracker, topped with what Jason took to be caviar.

Zar ripped open the large presents. Jason's heart went out to Serhii. Zar occasionally fondled him; Serhii flinched but stayed standing still, mostly stoic, yet a certain vibrant energy radiating from him, an almost palpable anger.

Zar ripped open a long present and lifted out a long golden whip. He screeched with delight and lashed it around, swirling it. He dashed over to Elena and hugged her. She patted his back indulgently and then gently pushed him away.

"Best present," said Zar, "besides my new slave."

"I told you I'd show you a good time."

The last present, smaller than the others, Zar opened rather casually then stopped. "Ohhh," he said. Carefully he lifted out a golden knife, the handle glinting with bright jewels. "I take it back—this is the second-best present."

"It's a replica of an Egyptian one," said Elena.

"You know how much I love Egyptian things! Thank you." He caressed the knife.

"I've got another one, which I haven't wrapped." Elena gestured to several servants, and they brought forward a black case.

Zar opened it and pulled out a pistol, gold-plated, jewels scintillating on its skin. Zar kissed it, and then kissed Elena's cheek. She kissed him back, like a mother bestowing gifts on her indulgent child.

"Not even my father has a gun like this."

"It's yours now. To do with as you see fit. But I hope you will be responsible, as befitting your age."

"Can I practice here?"

"Yes. Just keep within the guidelines. And don't draw too much attention on the outside. Befitting your station, such a flashy gift won't be out of place. I could not give it to anyone else."

"Where'd you get it?"

"A… 'competitor'." Her lips tilted wryly. "Now this is all that is left of him."

"Wow. Soaked in blood." He brandished the gun and spun it expertly.

"If you prove yourself responsible with this, I will give you what you have long desired."

"You mean—"

She inclined her head.

"Oh… your Majesty. I would…worship you forever."

She smiled as if that were only to be expected.

Zar aimed the gun at Serhii, who winced slightly, then became fiercely impassive. Zar slid closer and pressed the gun to Serhii's heart. Serhii gazed at him, brazen defiance in his eyes.

Zar laughed and holstered the gun. "Oh, you are a wonderful one. I do so love taming them. This one needs more than most." He caressed Serhii's face. "Eventually I'll unwrap him the rest of the way…. And then…. Well." He sauntered around Serhii, inspecting him closely. Serhii trembled, but Jason doubted it was with fear.

Such rage—held in check—defiant energy—perhaps we can become allies…

Servants cut the cake with a golden knife and distributed the pieces, some large, some smaller according to the guests' wishes. Jason only wanted a small piece. It had rather horrible connotations, but it did look delectable….

It was extremely fluffy with decadent frosting. After a few bites, though, the fact it had been Serhii's prison fully hit him, and he shoved away the plate.

All the guests were ushered to the chairs facing the stage. Zar enthusiastically scanned the teen boys, touching some of them, but sat down once the music started and the boys left for the stage.

Serhii sat beside Zar, but he was stiff, immobile, as if an invisible force field were holding him there.

Jason wheeled Ali over to the second row and sat in the chair beside him. Ali crossed his arms, looking rather despondent, but then when the dance began, interest bloomed across his face.

The boys put on a spectacular ballet. However, toward the end, it got a little too suggestive and Jason turned away, thankful that no one was directly to his right. Lila had gone off to sit beside a tall black woman with elegant features. They whispered enthusiastically together as the show continued.

Trying to block out the stage, Jason looked over at Serhii. To his disgust, Zar was caressing his neck, gliding his hand up the back of his head into his close-cropped hair. Serhii seemed as if he were about to snap, and Jason suspected he might be imagining all kinds of ways to take Zar down.

The music stopped and the boys bowed in a line. Then they paraded past and Zar leaped up and stopped one of them, caressed him for a few agonizing moments, then let him go. When the ballroom floor was opened up, Zar ordered all the cages opened as well. The tiger sprang free, leaping around the room. Thankfully not tearing into anyone. Mostly sidling around the room, sometimes rubbing leisurely against people's legs, sometimes eying the peacocks.

Most of the children stayed in their cages, but a few crawled out cautiously. Jason rushed over to Alelu. She was huddled inside, tears streaming down her face.

"Hey," said Jason. "Why don't you stick with me?" He was determined to help her even if there were consequences.

Slowly, she crept out of the cage. Jason reached for her but was careful not to touch her. She grasped his hand, a featherweight against his palm. He pressed her fingers in gentle reassurance and then led her to the table he'd sat at before. She climbed into the chair beside him, and he slid the uneaten hors d'oeuvres over to her. She hesitated, glancing at him, then devoured them.

He saw a leftover piece of cake on the other table and set it in front of her. She ate it, using a fork at first, finally stuffing the rest into her mouth.

Afterwards, she looked a little sheepish. "I'm sorry."

"You must be hungry."

"I didn't eat since morning. But a princess must always act like one…."

"You're a princess?"

She shrugged. "That's what they tell me. I don't feel like one."

Jason thought, I shouldn't encourage their image of her. At the same time, an image flashed into his mind of a movie he'd seen with his niece once.

"All girls are princesses," he said. "You definitely look like a traditional princess, especially in your dress."

She winced, looked down. He feared he'd said something to hurt her. Then she touched her jaw gingerly, where the birthmark wound down from her chin to her neck. "Princesses don't have marks like this."

"That just makes you special."

She frowned. "That's what Lila keeps telling me. She gives me presents because of it."

"Is Lila nice to you?"

Alelu looked down, then nodded.

"At least someone treats you well. Just let me know if someone hurts you, okay?"

She looked at him with wide blue eyes, wonder in their depths. "Will you help Elliot too?"

"As much as I can."

"They didn't come to hurt him so far."

"He sure needs time to heal."

She shivered. "I don't like it here."

"Me neither."

People were dancing around the floor, most of the Admins and guards with some of the slaves. He recognized Sahara, dancing with a tall, muscular Indian man. Elena was dancing with a young Arab man, his eyes downcast, his movements rather disjointed. Somehow Elena kept them moving, a strange parody of a dance.

And Zar was dancing with Serhii, which was the most awkward of all. Serhii only moved with the stiffest movements, and Zar, a little smaller, had to practically drag him across the floor. Or was it the other way around? Jason almost laughed, glad that someone knew how to put a stick in the gear of this farce without being overtly punished. He suspected Serhii was on thin ice, though, and was ready to help him at a moments' notice.

The dance ended and Sahara's "partner" released her, and she came over to Jason and flopped into the chair beside him. "Whew," she said. "Rave sure keeps me on my toes."

"You looked very…beautiful," he said.

"We make a pretty couple, don't you agree?"

"Um…."

Sahara shrugged, sorrow shadowing her eyes beneath their brightness. "Like I told you, he's not a bad master. I just have to…shut out anything else. These parties help do that. I don't want to think or feel. Not anything real, at least."

"So…it's a sort of…play? Or game?"

She looked at him for a moment. "I suppose you could call it that. I let myself feel…something for him. But it's not deep. Like…skating across the surface of a frozen lake." She gazed out at the dancers, the music having started up again.

Elena kept dancing with the same partner. He looked even more miserable.

Sahara slid closer to Jason and whispered, "That's Kara's fiancé. It—doesn't catch our words up here, if we whisper."

"So—"

She nodded. "They're engaged. His name's Karim. Oh I do hope Elena doesn't take a fancy to him…. If he's her next… The master he has now is often gone. But if she took him from her…. and Kara's owned by Michelle—"

"Who's Michelle?"

She flung her arm toward the tall black woman, who was dancing with Lila and laughing. They swung around the floor rather haphazardly, looking like they were having a blast.

"So—they're together?"

"No—Michelle prefers slaves. And Lila prefers…well. She's particular. They're just good friends."

Michelle and Lila collapsed into a corner seat, laughing. Then they both headed over to the other side, where a few slaves didn't have "partners" yet.

Elena let Karim go and he headed over to Sahara. Elena asked Zar for a dance, leaving Serhii, and he stood there for a moment before following Karim.

Jason turned to Alelu. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay."

"Just let me know if you need anything."

She nodded, looking warily at the others, then taking on a guarded happiness.

Sahara held out her hand and Karim took it. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Missing Kara."

"She's safe."

"At least she didn't have to attend…." His jaw clenched.

"Hey, Serhii," said Sahara as he drew up an extra chair beside Karim. "It's a travesty your new master had to be—him."

"At least he won't be living here."

"A mercy."

"A good thing Zakhar—" He looked over to the wall, then his eyes flashed. Michelle was leading a young man with dark brown hair and a striking physique over to the dance floor, Lila with the young pregnant girl. Then Serhii leaned his head in his hand. "Of course she wouldn't leave him alone." He gazed at Michelle, murder in his eyes.

"This is Jason, by the way," said Sahara.

"It's good to meet you," said Karim. He held out his hand.

Jason took it. "Same here. I was privileged to meet your fiancée yesterday."

His eyes brightened. "Oh, she is wonderful. I just wish…well. It's…hard for us, as you might imagine."

"It's amazing you can have a relationship here."

"It's possible if you want it enough. What we really want is—" His voice lowered until it was almost inaudible. "To be married. I don't know if we can, but if we can get out…. We don't want to wait though. In case…." His voice broke. He looked down, suffering etched on his features.

"Hi," said Serhii, holding out his hand and introducing himself. His grip was strong, with a latent power behind it.

"Too bad we have to meet here," said Jason.

"Probably wouldn't meet otherwise." He looked away wistfully. "You have to take the good with the bad."

"That's a very mature way to look at it," said Sahara. "It's hard to see the good most of the time…."

"It took coming here to realize it. Before—" Anguish flashed through his eyes. "Well, I just have to focus on the now. Somehow shake that spoiled brat."

"I don't know if that's possible…."

"I'd rather be hurt a thousand times than be with him in any way. I just… well…" His voice fell. "If it comes to that, if it means staying alive and fighting another day… instead of being a total wreck…."

"We all have to do it."

"Yeah. But somehow, I had this…notion I'd be free before I was taken by another."

"They'll never take away your relentless defiance," said Sahara with admiration.

"Ah, the humiliation of being in that cake. Unwrapped like that." He shook, glaring at Zar again.

"I'm glad you can get some relief."

"I'm not going quietly, I'll tell you that." He glanced at Jason. "You in the military?"

Jason shook his head.

"What were you before?"

"A spy."

Serhii laughed heartily. "Of course! I thought it was something like that. I was in army intelligence."

"Which army?"

Serhii laughed again. "The Ukrainian one." He set his jaw. "But I was taken before I could do much good. Somehow I ended up here."

"When was that?"

"About three months ago. You're new then?"

Jason nodded.

"We have to stick together here. Or they'll tear us apart."

"I think the same thing."

He whispered, "I've got a secret weapon. I'll tell you later. If—when… I'm back down. He'll probably get drunk, hopefully too drunk to do anything…. And we can pool our resources. Those of us who aren't beaten down yet can forge into something—well. This place has to fall." He looked out at Michelle again, his fists clenched. "If she hurts him—"

The dance ended and thankfully Michelle let Zakhar go. He meandered over to their table. Serhii clasped his hand, hugged him lightly. He had beautiful, finely drawn features, hinting perhaps Central Asian heritage, his eyes a deep brown to match his hair.

"This is Jason," said Serhii. "We believe in the same goal."

"Careful," said Zakhar, looking at him with alarm.

"They're not paying attention. Already intoxicated." Scorn rippled through his voice.

"We have to glide below their radar," said Karim.

Serhii nodded. "You're right. I'm just—this creature. He taxes my control. I…can't stand that he'll…." He glanced at Zakhar, sorrow in his eyes.

"Stay strong," said Zakhar.

"I have to. Grasp what strength I had before… In a way, my strength here is a façade too."

"No. Your strength runs deep." He pressed his hand to Serhii's heart. "You're the one who keeps me strong. Without that I'd be…well. Gone by now."

Michelle swanned over and grabbed Sahara. Sahara waved. "I'll see you later!"

Jason waved back, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He asked if Alelu wanted anything and she said meekly, "Some more snacks?"

"Of course!" He slid over to the tables and picked up some hors d'oeuvres and a little cup of juice. He was just about to go back when Zar appeared in front of the table. He surveyed the food and the wine and then he looked at Jason.

His eyes sparked. "Oh, it's you! The beautiful one I brought in. Look at you. All cleaned up." He smiled.

Jason headed around the table. "Excuse me, I have to get back—"

Zar grabbed his arm. "Oh, no, you don't. You owe me a dance."

"I don't owe you anything."

"I brought you here, didn't I?"

"I never wanted that."

"I did. Wow. I'd even discard Serhii if it meant I could have you. But why not both?"

Jason wrested his arm away. Stepped back toward his table.

Zar grabbed Jason's arm again; Jason yanked it away and pushed Zar's chest, shoving him away from him. As he strode back to the table, he glimpsed outrage on the handsome, spoiled face.

"Punish him!" screeched Zar.

Jason sat down beside Serhii and Zakhar; Karim had been taken away again, on the dance floor with a woman Jason vaguely recognized as one of the guards.

"Sorry I couldn't get your food," he whispered.

"That's okay," Alelu whispered back, understanding in her eyes.

"He hurt me!" Zar pointed at Jason. "Punish him!"

"Come now," said Lila, pausing her dance to look at Zar, her arm draped around the pregnant Indian girl's shoulder. "That was barely a shove. And you deserved it."

"I deserve everything good today." He pouted. "If none of you will do it, I'll do it myself." He grabbed the whip from the pile of presents along the side.

Jason froze. Then he stood, rather stiffly, and slid out onto the dance floor, immersing in the crowd. Somehow, he managed to glide through without bumping into anyone. He spotted Lila with the pregnant girl and beelined for her.

He tapped Lila's shoulder and Lila smiled and let the girl go.

Jason took her hand and grasped her waist lightly. Swirled out with her; she followed him swiftly, expertly, sweat beading her brow.

"We don't have to dance if you don't want to," said Jason.

"Oh, thank you."

He helped her to the chair in the furthest corner near the few slaves still lined up against the wall. She leaned back, breathing hard.

"Can I get you a drink of water?"

She shook her head. "Don't trouble yourself. I just…need rest."

"They should've left you alone, especially with your baby."

"It doesn't matter to them. They think I am one of the 'most beautiful' so that's why they brought me up. I usually live in comfort, though. I'm just…scared for my baby."

"If I can do anything—"

"Same here. My name is Nalika, by the way."

"That's a beautiful name. I'm J—"

A figure dashed into his vision and a fist crashed into his jaw. He staggered sideways. Then, a kick slammed into his leg. He sprawled onto the floor, hitting his elbow. He tried to scramble to his feet, but another kick rammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He lay there helpless as a whip slid out, silhouetted against the chandelier's light.

Pain

Raking across his back as he hung there, swinging from his arm which screamed with each blow—

The first blow never came.

He looked up.

Serhii wrenched back Zar's arm and tore the whip from it, then slammed a fist into his jaw, sending Zar sprawling. He dashed over to Jason, proffering his hand. Jason clasped it and Serhii pulled him to his feet.

"Thanks," said Jason, breathless.

Serhii smiled. "We're sticking together in here, remember?"

Jason nodded. Perhaps that was what he had to do—band together with others.

A secret agent didn't think that way naturally, not on a mission anyway….

Zar sputtered. "You—you-!" He pointed at Serhii. "You dare to hit me! Your master! On my birthday!" He roared to his feet. "Seize him!"

Guards rushed over and grabbed Serhii, dragging him away. Still, he smiled.

Zar looked on with satisfaction, then brushed his shirt off. Felt his jaw. "The rest of my birthday better be better than this." He turned to Jason, proffering his arm. "Shall we?"

"You've got to be kidding."

"Do you want to be punished too?"

"What are they doing to him?"

"You'll see. We'll bind you up and whip you if you don't come with me and dance."

"No, we won't," said Elena, gliding up to them. "He is our guest today. He's not to be treated as a slave."

"But—"

"No buts."

"You said—"

"Why don't you go get some wine and calm down."

Huffily, Zar marched over to the table, grabbed a wine glass, and pouted in a corner.

"Are you alright, Jason?" said Elena. "We can take you to Med."

His face, stomach, and leg hurt, but the hits hadn't been too hard. He'd been taken off guard, otherwise he could've fought back. He hoped. He shook his head. "He's not the strongest man in the world."

"Mostly he plays tennis, golf, things like that. He's a good shot, though. Good with knives, too."

"Thanks for…intervening."

"I told you no one would hurt you."

"What will happen to Serhii?"

"As he's a slave, could be anything. But something tells me his night isn't over."

"He defended me when you wouldn't. He should be punished for that?"

"He should be punished for striking his master. Such things just are not done. I'm afraid his friend will have to be punished too, for I warned him. But that will be when Serhii can appreciate it. Come." She held out her hand.

"You've got to be kidding."

"You saved me a dance, remember?"

Revulsion hitting his soul, he brought up his mission again. Be with Elena as much as possible….

He took her arm.

They whirled around the ballroom floor; Elena was so swift and expert she was hard to keep up with. Finally, they settled into a rhythm, which made his skin crawl. It was even worse when she slowed and held him close. Laid her cheek against his, as if they were a couple in love. He resisted the urge to pull away. Endured her touch, although he longed for Connie instead.

Just her name made his heart ache desperately.

Elena's hand crawled up the back of his neck; he trembled, dying to pull away.

Finally, the music stopped, and he couldn't help but pull away from her, gasping as if he'd been held underwater too long.

Alelu was alone at the table now. He went over and grabbed some snacks and a drink and a glass of wine for himself and flopped down into the chair beside her.

She gulped down the juice, and color came back into her cheeks. "Thank you," she said.

"Anything to help you feel better."

"Juice always makes me feel better." She smiled a little. Then she ate the snacks daintily.

Jason sipped some of his wine. It tilted into his brain, making him feel slightly removed from this reality.

Being so weak…. I should've fought back. I cannot measure up to Serhii…. His strength, his defiance… no PTSD holding him down…

He took another sip of the wine, then swallowed the rest of it in a gulp.

Takes me back to my college days, he thought wryly, shoving away any reservations.

Elena appeared across the table. "Are you enjoying our wine?"

"It's good," said Jason, not wanting to give her any specifics about anything.

"I hope you're sensitive enough to notice the subtle notes in it. Its gorgeous symphony."

"Not really."

She narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps you should not drink it if you cannot appreciate it."

Alelu slid away from Elena a little.

"And you do not even appreciate our other products," said Elena.

"What do you mean."

"Our slaves, for instance." She gestured to Alelu.

His limbs became numb, his heart pulsed like a dying star.

A hand on his.

Alelu's, thankfully.

Anger whipped through him. White-hot. He was consumed by it, locking him in place. "How—dare you." He stood slowly. Eyes trained on Elena's. "Don't you or anyone else touch her again. Don't go near these precious little kids."

"She is quite a pretty thing, though, don't you think?" Elena's hand twined in Alelu's hair.

Jason almost lunged for her, but the child inside her held him in check.

Something hit him.

Elena and Alelu. They looked…strikingly alike. So close they could have been—

Mother and daughter.

Jason felt like he was freefalling.

A little girl, sold as a slave by her own mother—

"Stay away from her!" He slid Alelu's chair further away, and she looked infinitely grateful.

"She belongs to me."

"You would—destroy your own daughter."

Alelu looked up at him sharply and he realized she might not have known.

"Well, she's defective, as you can see." Her calmness was maddening.

Jason grasped Elena's arm. Pulling her away from the table. They stood in the middle of the dance floor, the rest whirling around them, flashes of bright clothes, of happy and miserable faces.

Elena tried to pull him into a dance, but he stayed still. "Do not touch her, don't let anyone touch her, or—"

"I hold all the power here. In fact—I think I have been too indulgent. Activate," she said.

A brilliant snap and pain lanced through his skull

Ripping through his limbs, bright light sizzling across them

A scream rang in his ears.

He was vaguely aware of sitting upright, slouched in a chair. Around him, music, laughter. His limbs still burned. He tested his fingers; they worked, stiffly.

His vision gradually sharpened. He was sitting at a very long table lined with people, and food was resplendent on it. Platters of meat of all kinds, garnished with grapes; wine glasses; fruits and vegetables…. It smelled heavenly.

But there was something wrong here…

At the other end of the table sat Elena, eating a turkey leg. Along the table were the guards, Admins, who looked like they were having a good time, and the slaves, faces still smeared with gold dust, half rubbed off, eyes downcast; some weren't eating at all.

At the other end of the room, behind Elena—there was a strange sculpture of a man bound on the wall

No. The man was moving a little.

Serhii.

Jason longed to jump up and free him, but his limbs were still half-numb. Thoughts pushed sluggishly through his mind.

Horror rang through him when he thought of what Elena had said about Alelu. She was sitting beside Lila, eating some cranberries. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He was also relieved that Zar was at the other end beside Elena. He was speaking to her eagerly, almost as if he were pleading, and Elena was nodding tolerantly.

"You can eat something," said a voice beside him.

He looked to the left to see Michelle, her fork embedded in a chicken breast, half-eaten peas on her plate.

"I can help you." She lifted her knife to cut the fish on his plate.

He shook his head.

"Just let me know. Shocks can immobilize you for hours."

Experimentally he moved his hand. It felt strange, as if it were made of static. Slowly, feeling came back into his limbs, and they tingled. It was both pleasant and unpleasant. Finally, he was able to make his fingers move enough to eat.

"Bravo!" said Michelle. "You're a strong one." Her head tilted, her golden-brown eyes studying him.

He shut her out and concentrated on his food. Except his eyes kept being drawn back to the man bound on the wall, unable to eat anything. He looked like he had a few bruises but nothing serious. And he struggled against his bonds, though only halfheartedly. Mostly he seemed to look anywhere else, but sometimes his eyes strayed to the table.

Sahara was sitting by Rave. Sadly, it looked like she had been forbidden from eating and she looked longingly at the food as Rave absently caressed her jaw.

Nalika was sitting by Marie and was thankfully eating. Occasionally, she urged Marie to eat, but Marie only listlessly dragged her fork through her potatoes. Finally, Nalika offered her some cheese and she nibbled on it.

Jason only ate sporadically himself. He hardly tasted most of the food, concerned about what might happen next during this "party".

"Now for dessert!" said Elena.

Zar jumped up, clapped. "Oohh, dessert!"

"This should be good," said Michelle, as slaves cleared the table.

"Do you know what it is?"

She smiled. "You'll see."

The guests were requested to slide their chairs back. Then two men were brought in, bound, wearing only skintight pants.

Karim and Zakhar.

They struggled but were wrestled to the table, then strapped down.

Like Samar's party. Only no cavalry coming to rescue us….

The guards spread cream over them, then sprinkled candies, chocolate, gold leaf. Finally, a white powder, like powdered sugar. But Jason suspected it was some kind of drug.

"The roxyen is diluted," said Elena, "But it'll still give you a good time without any danger. Now, dive in!"

People grabbed gobs of cream as if it were some kind of strange free-for-all dessert. But there were men beneath, and they struggled. Only their faces visible.

Karim was nearest Jason, his head facing the opposite direction.

Jason took an empty place in the middle and held Karim's hand as the rapacious beings grabbed at him, scratched him, licked off the remainders of the cream. His hand trembled and Jason clasped it tighter. Gratefulness gleamed in Karim's eyes.

Zakhar cried out.

Some of them were kissing him, their lips coming away with blood.

Jason glanced at Karim.

"Go," said Karim.

Jason dashed over to Zakhar and shielded him with his body.

"Sorry," mouthed Jason.

"Please—don't…apologize…" said Zakhar. Blood trickled from his mouth.

They tried to pull him away, but he stood firm until a guard whacked his back with a shockrod, sans shock, and he fell awkwardly onto Zakhar. Then they dragged him off and dropped him unceremoniously beside Elena.

She looked down at him haughtily, as if to say, you get what you deserve.

He stood shakily, his back aching. When they started hurting the young men again, he lurched forward, but Elena grabbed his arm.

"Don't. Or I'll Activate again."

Horror ran through him at the word. But guilt still seized him, and he would have gone to help them but Karim and Zakhar were dragged off the table and escorted out the door. Serhii was unchained from the wall, his face full of anguish. As they pulled him past Jason, he mouthed, "Thank you."

Jason was swept away in the current of the crowd down the stream of the hallway to a vast space. A high ceiling, lights splashing across it. Water as blue as the sky.

People began undressing. Jason stayed at the side, looking away, thankful that at least no children had been brought here. But he couldn't ignore the screams. A guard was pressing Nalika against the wall, tugging at her clothes. Jason strode over to them; the guard whipped out his shockrod, stopping Jason short. He was about to go anyway, despite the horror in his heart, but then Lila grabbed his arm. "Don't. In here, you'll be killed if you're shocked."

Water was already sloshed across the floor. And so he turned away, unable to shut out the sounds of Nalika struggling. Feeling as if he'd betrayed her and her baby.

"Why not have a good time?" said Lila. She spread out her arm. "We can take you to a dressing room, if you like."

"There's no way I'll have a good time here."

"Suit yourself. I'm going in." She began to strip off her lilac dress.

Rave and Sahara were already swimming in tandem; Michelle was with Zakhar at the shallow end, caressing him as he trembled. Serhii was nowhere to be seen.

Marie shivered in a corner; a man was marching toward her, the one that had dragged her away the other day.

I cannot touch the guards, but perhaps I can shield her—

He ran over, stopped in front of her. "Please, don't."

"Don't what?" said the man, sneering.

"Take me."

"You aren't bad looking, but I'd have to squint real hard to make you look like a woman." He laughed roughly.

"What else do you want."

"It's true she's about used up. Hm. How about a favor, to be cashed in later on?"

"Sure." Jason's voice shook, not sure what it would be. But at least he'd saved Marie.

The guard walked away, and Jason turned to Marie. "Are you alright?"

She backed further into the corner, pressing against the wall.

He crouched down. "I won't hurt you."

She closed her eyes, tears spilling onto her cheeks. He held out her hand; she hesitated, then took it, clasping it like a lifeline.

He stayed near her and thankfully no one bothered them. At first, they were silent, and then they spoke quietly. He learned she was from France; he hardly would have guessed, her accent was so soft. She told him of her idyllic life until one day a man offered her a modelling job. She'd been doing some modelling, so she thought she was moving up in the business.

Instead, she'd been drugged and shoved into a van. After that, she was taken to several other places—she was vague, and Jason didn't blame her—until she ended up here.

"I miss my family so much," she said, her voice faltering.

To distract her from her own pain, he told her about his life and family back in Odyssey. He let himself be detached from it until he began to describe Connie, then an overwhelming sorrow gripped him, and he turned to the wall, his hand pressed against the damp cement. Silent sobs shook him, and he sank to his knees as tears streamed down his face.

A soft hand lay on his back, and gratefulness poured through him for this small act of kindness from someone so traumatized.

Weariness bore down on him as they headed to the next room. When would this end?

At the sauna, everyone was "required" to undress, according to Zar. Elena amended this to mean the slaves.

Jason wasn't sure of his status, so he hung back, trying to ignore everything. If only I could go to my room and sleep…. Just let me sleep…. The heat didn't help.

Thankfully most of the guests ended up with towels around them. However, the slaves weren't allowed to have towels. Jason cast his eyes down so as not to add to their shame.

Michelle and Lila traipsed up to him, holding hands. Lila wore a lilac towel, Michelle a black one. "Hey," said Michelle. "Why don't you join us?"

"Yeah, you can be in our little clique," said Lila.

"I'd rather not."

"Why don't you just let loose and have fun? You'll feel much better."

"Not as long as there are slaves here."

Michelle laughed. "He's such a stick in the mud! Come on, Li." Laughing, they disappeared into the mist.

Most people were not visible now and Jason sat back on the bench by the door. Maybe he could fall asleep…

An apparition appeared beside him. Elena, a white towel draped over her stomach. "You'll feel much better if you take off those clothes."

"Can't I just go back to my room?"

"And miss all this?"

"It's endless horror."

"If you do not participate, perhaps we'll make you."

"So… I'm not a guest after all."

"It's a demonstration. You've got to be present for it. Come, there's a private dressing room."

Reluctantly, he followed her, not sure what else to do.

She gestured to one of the stalls with a wooden door and he stepped inside. Slowly, he peeled off his clothes, his fingers hardly cooperating. Dreading what he'd find within the sauna.

With a blue towel wrapped around his waist, which felt extremely light and insubstantial even though he'd tied it as tightly as he could, he gingerly stepped out. Elena grasped his arm and escorted him through the mist, gliding through it like the ghost of a queen.

At least he couldn't see much. But he could hear the cries, the shaken protests of men and women.

Elena sat down next to him, closed her eyes. "I do so love these. So relaxing." She leaned back against the wall. "I need all I can get at this stage." She laid a hand on her stomach. Looked at Jason. "Lie back, relax."

Jason wasn't sure if he could, but at least he could rest a little…. Perhaps get a few seconds sleep….

He jolted awake. A scream ripped the air.

Dread filling him, Jason followed it and several yards away Rave was kissing Sahara savagely, his hands digging into her flesh.

"Get off of her," said Jason.

Rave continued as if he hadn't heard. Risking a shock, Jason grabbed his arm.

Rave whirled around, towering over Jason. His hand darted out and grabbed Jason's neck. Both hands, crushing it.

Jason struggled, gasping. He kicked out but the man lifted him off the ground, squeezing harder.

Static prickled his vision. Fire wheezed into his lungs.

A throat cleared, a ghostly figure lingering in the mist

The hands released and he crashed to the floor, his knees hitting it hard. He gulped in the warm, cloying air.

A hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. He couldn't trust his voice not to hurt his throat.

Elena helped him up to the bench and he leaned back, just concentrating on breathing.

He didn't even flinch as cool fingers slid over his throat, spreading cream over it. The burning faded.

"There, my dear. How does that feel?"

"Good," he said, his voice hoarse.

"I only want what's best for you."

For a moment, he felt himself agreeing, then revolt lanced through his heart. She'd been lulling him with this—pretense of gentleness—

He slid away from her.

She slid closer. Laid her hand on his arm.

He pulled away, but she grasped it with surprising strength. Her blue eyes pinned him there. "Jason. Let's at least pretend to be together, for a little while. Let me show you how pleasant it can be." She slid her finger over his bicep.

He slid away further, almost bumping into someone—Zar, with one of the teen boys.

Revulsion hit him and, skin tingling with the horror of it, he turned to wrest Zar away, or at least draw his attention somehow.

"Don't," said Elena. "He's turned his shock on. But mine is off. In fact, perhaps we should get away, go back to my room."

All of this was worse than his imagination; he couldn't wrap his mind around it. Didn't want to. Evil surrounded him like a vile fog, tendrils leaking everywhere.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," he said, his voice raspy, still remnants of pain when he spoke.

"Perhaps, if you're so resistant, I'll have to make you see how pleasant my company is." She caressed his chest. He began to get up, but she said, "If you keep resisting, I'll have to punish one of the slaves."

"What."

"Perhaps that young girl you were talking to. Marie."

"She's already been through too much."

"She's only fulfilling her purpose."

"Only a monster would threaten such a thing."

"It doesn't matter what you think. Except… I know how much you care about the other slaves."

Perhaps he'd shown a weakness, but what else could he have done?

Elena slid her finger down the center of his chest, then drew it back up again, caressing his collarbone. He almost jumped away but then remembered her threat.

She had no reservations about hurting people.

Sacrifice for their sake…

Well, it's Elena's fault, but still, resisting will lead to her actions, will crush others because of me…

But—to allow this—is to betray the one I love—

Trembling, he bore her caresses, not knowing what to do.

Some way out of this.

But her touch slashed away all thought. Her finger delicately swirled against each nuance of his skin. Despite himself, a tingle raced through him. Not entirely unpleasant.

Betrayal, betrayal, pounded through his mind

Betray the other slaves, or Connie?

She would understand….

But I have to get away before it goes too far….

She lightly turned his face to hers and her finger traced his cheek, running over his scar. A feather touch along his jaw, lingering in the day's growth of a beard. Traced along his upper lip, then pressed into his lower lip. Her other hand roamed over his arm, then back to his shoulder blade.

"Ah," she said. "What a glorious being. And so intricate, with all these scars…."

Shivers raced through him, along with faded flashes of the events that had caused the scars.

He was trapped here, like before. Couldn't get away. No use resisting.

Her palm slid over his stomach, then brushed the top of the towel

Lightning shocked his mind.

No.

No more of this. Already too much… she is claiming me, because after this…. How can someone good touch someone who has let an evil being touch him…

Elena gently began to tug at the towel, so subtly at first he didn't know what she was doing. Then he grasped her wrist and tugged the towel back firmly in place.

"No," he said.

She smiled indulgently. "Alright. We'll leave it here for now. But it is tempting." She rubbed his thigh.

Caressed his knee, just below the towel.

"I don't want this," he said, knowing she didn't care in the least.

"You'll learn to," she said, smiling maddeningly.

Part of him was afraid she was right.

Not that he'd ever want it, but he would have no choice but to endure it. Perhaps even…get used to it.

The thought sickened him, and he got up, hoping she'd be satiated for now, so she wouldn't follow through on the threat.

On the way out, the guards stopped him and directed him to the "party room", where the grand finale of the party would be held. Jason said he was tired and would rather go back to his room, but they insisted. One of them escorted him there.

Several people were inside already, scattered among the furniture. An elaborate prism rotated on the ceiling, flashing rainbows everywhere. On the walls played various scenes, their edges blending with each other, some black and white, some in color. They changed every few seconds; some hinted sensuality, and some were graphic. In the center of the room was a fountain, water pouring like liquid gold into a pool below. Around the pool stood small tables filled with food or alcohol or small vials of powder or bright liquid. Divans circled the tables, chairs just past them, then a wide golden floor which spread to a stage in the back. Plants were arranged around the room, some little palm trees, some elaborate tropical flowers. Light music lilted through the air.

Jason wanted to leave.

But perhaps I can help….

How, he thought. They'll just beat me down. If they don't, they're merely humoring me.

All I can do, perhaps, is shield them with my own body, and that might not work either.

Shame wound through him, then he realized it was because Elena's fingers still crawled over his skin like worms. He thought they could all see it, even though he had put his clothes back on, the suit rather rumpled and lopsided. But he didn't care to straighten it. What did it matter?

Rave, Michelle, and Lila were gathered on the far side of the room, laughing and chatting. Michelle's hand was draped over Zakhar's neck. Rave held Sahara close. She smiled at whatever he was saying, but the smile was halfhearted, and it froze on her face, then faded as he got more into some story he was telling.

Jason headed subtly to them, not wanting to be noticed. He sat down on the divan closest to Sahara, his heart aching when he thought of what had probably happened to her. At least she and the other slaves were dressed now. Not in their previous clothes but draped in some sort of gauzy golden fabric that fell past their waists and didn't really hide much. Jason felt guilty for putting on the clothes again. As agonizing as it was, he belonged with the slaves, not the masters.

Several more people trickled in. To his dismay, Marie, pale, was being pulled along by the Admin who had assaulted her before. Nalika was with a tall man with red hair. All of her effervescence faded, she hugged her arms to her rounded stomach, as if protecting her baby, when she couldn't protect herself.

Zar came in beside Elena, a different teen boy than before hugged to him. He had brown eyes that looked around the room in a daze, and blond hair, and marks showing beneath the remnants of gold dust.

Elena held Karim's arm; he looked supremely unhappy. But at least… Jason hated that he could already sense this… he didn't have the beaten down look that many of the others had after the interminable night. Elena must just be using him as decoration.

Zar let go of the boy and raced over to the fountain. Without any ceremony, he dived in, splashing gold sparkles everywhere. He swam through the pool, then stood, embracing the fountain, letting it spout into his mouth. He gulped mouthfuls and then grabbed a pear from the nearest table. He sank his teeth into it, eyes bright. Already laced with drugs, Jason thought with disgust.

Zar guzzled some wine and smashed the glass on the floor. "All right, let's get this party started!" he yelled. Beckoned to the boy, and he slowly made his way to him, joints moving jerkily. He was probably drugged too, thought Jason. He's so thin… if only I could do something….

Sahara turned to Jason, Rave thankfully occupied and too drunk to notice her sliding away a little, out of his grasp.

Shock shot through Jason. She had a black eye. Dried blood streaked the corner of her mouth. A cut slashed through the edge of one eyebrow. Scratches raked down her beautiful dark skin. Blood smeared her golden shift.

"Sahara…." He didn't know what to say.

"I'm okay," she said, her voice trembling. She slid a shaky hand through her green-tipped dark curls.

"Maybe…now you can get away from him."

"Maybe." She glanced back nervously.

"I'm so sorry. Sahara…I wish I could've—"

"No," she said, holding up a hand. "Don't. Let's not speak about it."

He nodded, pain raking his heart.

The room swelled with raucous laughter, loud voices, shrieks, murmurings…. It was a full house now.

Elena swept around the fountain, and Jason sank down, hoping she wouldn't notice him. His skin writhed with the ghosts of her touch, and he felt that Sahara must know—

Even though what happened to me is nothing compared to what happened to her. She'd probably laugh at how much something so minor affects me.

Elena stopped, guiding Karim to face them. "Don't you just make the cutest couple."

Jason was beyond shock and anger; weary outrage laced through him, mostly for Sahara. "We're not a couple," he said.

"You're as much as a couple as we are." She patted Karim's hand. "But tonight is all about mixing it up. Who knows, later, perhaps…" Her eyes ran up and down Karim's body. He tugged away a little, undisguised disgust in his eyes.

"Don't you dare touch him," said Sahara raspily, trying to get up, but unable to. Jason held out his hand, and she clasped his gratefully.

"So it's you that's in love with Karim."

"We're just friends," said Sahara.

"Of course. Because there can't be anything else between slaves." She looked at Sahara pointedly. "You do know I can do anything I like with him. Strange I haven't considered him before… a little young, perhaps. How old are you, dear?"

"Twenty," he said, just above a whisper.

She caressed his chin. "You've got to ripen a little. Still…. I might make an exception… I do need consolation because someone is playing hard to get." She leered at Jason.

His face heated and he couldn't help but drop his eyes. He felt like he was shrinking, but it wasn't enough—he had to become a shadow, so she couldn't notice him at all.

"Don't hurt him—please—" said Sahara.

"I think you have problems of your own," said Elena, eyes flickering over her injuries.

Jason felt like leaping to Sahara's defense, but he couldn't drag himself out of the shadow he was sinking towards.

"I have some business to attend to," said Elena. She patted Karim's hand. "Why don't you stay here and talk to your friends."

Elena swept away into the crowd. The thrumming beat of the music throbbing through the floor.

Karim breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you okay?" said Sahara.

He nodded. "She didn't really do anything."

"Good."

He sat down on a chair beside Sahara, looking at her sympathetically. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I…think he's mostly done with me… probably fall asleep before long."

"Sahara—"

"At least he's not…Dansk." She shuddered. "I'm worried about Zakhar." She looked over her shoulder, her movements stiff and careful. "Michelle doesn't have an off button. She'll just keep going and going…. And without Serhii here… and me…not in top form…."

"It's okay," said Karim. "I'll watch out for him."

"Just. Be careful."

"I will too," said Jason.

"Thank you," said Sahara. She looked at him searchingly. "So…"

He knew what she was implying. He nodded. "Now you know."

"At least she… seems to be careful with you, for some reason."

"They want me to be an agent. And… she's…taking her time. Because…" Mortification hit him. "I'm…the one she wants to…keep."

"Oh…." said Sahara, immense sorrow in her dark eyes, her voice broken for him.

He leaned his head in his hands, wanting all of this to end.

At least if it's me…then she's not focusing on them. She won't be focusing on Karim…. Perhaps I should keep her attention, so she can't… go on side quests….

A weary malaise settled in his heart. A sort of dingy film streaked over reality…. A dullness in his soul. The edge of numbness. He almost welcomed it.

"Ooh! Look what we have here!" said a raucous voice.

He opened his eyes to see Zar, arm flung over the blond boy's shoulder. Closer, Jason could see bruises on his face; he had a split lip. He looked in a daze, swaying on his feet. Jason wanted to help him but didn't want to get closer to Zar.

To Jason's relief and horror, Zar slid his arm off the boy's shoulder and stepped closer to Jason. His white shirt was rumpled, and the buttons were mismatched, his golden jacket nowhere to be seen. He held a wine glass in one hand; most of the wine was gone.

Zar tilted a little, then steadied. With his other hand he reached toward Jason.

Jason broke out of his numbness enough to slide away, but it wasn't enough. Zar grasped his chin, sliding his hand to his throat. Pressing thumb and forefinger into his jaw, he turned Jason's head to one side, then the other. "I could just eat you up. I love these boys," he gestured to the young man who was slowly fading into the background, "but sometimes one craves maturity. An exotic spice you don't often taste." Zar thrust Jason's head up and kissed his jaw. Jason tried to pull away, but the grip tightened. Zar's mouth stretched into a cruel tilt.

"Get off of him," said Karim, fists clenched.

Zar looked back, his grip not slipping. "You know what will happen if you touch me." He glanced at Sahara, gaze flitting over her injuries. She shrank from him, folding her arms over herself, sinking back.

Zar's fingernails dug into Jason's skin. "Elena didn't specify the limits except to just avoid devouring you. Mmm. I think I'll take advantage of that." He licked his lips.

Tingling heat flashed through him. He couldn't comprehend this, couldn't deal with it, but he knew that he would not let Zar go any further than this.

He grasped Zar's wrist. "Get away." He swore violently, in the back of his mind apologizing to God.

"Oh, my dear. You still don't understand. You see, I can Activate, and you'll be shocked to the ground, and I will still do with you what I want."

A being suddenly appeared beside him, a tall, lavender angel. "Oh, no you don't," said Lila. "Let go of him."

"It's my birthday."

"You're too drunk to think straight. Elena won't give you to him, because you can't control yourself. I won't have it." She waved her hand, as if swatting away a fly.

"But—"

"Don't think I won't throw you out of your own birthday. If you keep bothering him, that's what I'll do. He is in my care, and I'm erring on the side of caution. Especially since he's Elena's and we don't want him messed up too much."

"My father will hear about this!"

"Your father wants you to simmer down a bit. Now take your depredations elsewhere."

Zar bristled then stalked off, thankfully leaving the teen boy as well. The boy sat down on the divan next to him, leaning his head in his hands. Lila sat in the gap between them. "Are you alright?" Her eyes searched his.

Jason nodded, sharp pangs in his chest. His throat aching. More from the horror of it than any real injury.

She pursed her lips. "You don't look so good. Maybe I can ask Elena if you can go back down to rest."

"I'd love that." His voice was a raspy whisper.

"Alright. Don't go away." She patted his back lightly and then disappeared.

Jason turned to the boy. "Hey."

The boy looked at him, dark brown eyes startled. His pupils dilated. A cut slashed across his cheek, blood smeared in the gold dust.

"I won't hurt you. Is there…anything I can do?"

He shook his head. "I'm s'posed to be here…doing this…."

"You're supposed to be free."

Terror lanced through his eyes. "I was made for this."

"No one belongs to anyone else. No one should—" His voice faltered— "be treated like this, ever. It's an abomination."

He wrapped his arms around himself, hunched down. "Please, don't say that, they'll—punish us."

"We can be careful. But no matter what they tell you, you belong to no one. You can be free inside. Don't let them crush you. Your soul is yours. No one else's. They can't take it away—you can think whatever you want. Don't forget that."

He hesitated, then nodded slightly. Perhaps he'd been in their grip so long he'd started to believe what they told him about himself… such a young boy, no more than fourteen or fifteen. He shouldn't have to face such horror.

"What's your name?"

"Vanya."

"I'm Jason."

Vanya told him he'd been taken with several other boys, taught to dance, then brought here about a month ago, perfecting their dance for the party. It had been drummed into each of them that they should do whatever anyone asked of them. They were tortured and Vanya tried to hold out but at last they started to get to him. They were drugged daily, which didn't help. Your mind faded into a sort of constant fog. "Almost like a zombie," said Vanya. "We just…did what they told us after the first month. I…didn't want to think anymore. It hurts too much."

"I've felt that already, and I've only been here a few days." Those days were a crushing weight; he couldn't look at them directly or he'd go mad. "I have to hold onto what's good, or they will win."

"What's good?" said Vanya earnestly.

Jason was about to reply, not sure what exactly he'd say, when the curtain slid open, revealing the stage.

On the stage Serhii was strapped to a post, chains binding his wrists and ankles. He looked weary but still defiant, thankfully with no new injuries, just a few bruises. He was still wearing the golden suit and the sparkly design on the right side of his face was still mostly intact, his short hair a bit tousled. His blue eyes blazed. He tugged on the chains but wasn't able to move much.

Elena glided in front of the stage, guiding Zar, who was quivering with excitement. He dragged the whip with him.

"Now," said Elena, "Serhii deserves punishment for hitting you, and as the injured party, you deserve to decide the punishment. Would you like to do the honors?"

"Oh, yes!"

"I'm sure you can think of some creative ways to carry out justice."

A chill flickered through Jason at the word.

Justice here was its opposite.

Zar jumped lithely onto the stage, then stumbled a bit once he stepped onto it, though he recovered quickly. He laid down the whip carefully then drew out the golden knife from his belt. He slid the flat of it over Serhii's face. Serhii turned his head away, undisguised revulsion on his face.

The knife pressed in, and Jason turned away, feeling sick. Unnatural tingles fluttered down the back of his skull. He tried to shut out the images crowding in on him, the slash of ripping pain as the knife blazed across his cheek—

There was the sound of tearing fabric. Jason glanced at the stage to see that the knife was tearing through Serhii's shirt. He struggled, but the knife continued, Zar's eyes avid.

I'm not watching this horrific display. He turned to Sahara, but she was huddled in her own little world and Jason didn't want to disturb her. Karim was frozen, his hands clutching the chair, looking obliquely toward the stage. Vanya was turned away, tears in his eyes, shaking.

"It's alright," said Jason, not entirely believing his words, holding out his hand tentatively in case Vanya wasn't averse to touch.

Vanya slid closer to him, and he leaned his head against Jason's shoulder as if seeking the comfort of a father. Gently, Jason wrapped his arm around him, but he tensed; Jason withdrew it. Vanya wrapped his arms around his, holding tightly, as if grasping a post to anchor himself as the wind and storm blew around him. Jason was honored to be his safe space.

"Wow!" exclaimed Zar. "What a pristine canvas." He examined Serhii's bare chest.

"Yes," said Elena. "His former owner, who's no longer with us, didn't like scars. He was very careful with him."

"Makes sense why he's still so defiant. All the more for me. This way I can sketch my own trademark on him. Make him mine, only mine." He twirled the knife. Then it jabbed toward Serhii's heart.

Jason turned away again. Knives twisting into his flesh, ghostly knives, but they still ripped pain across his skin. He would have rushed out of the room, or as far as they'd let him, if not for the child grasping his arm.

A scream rang out, stabbing Jason's heart. It took a moment to realize the pain of the scream was embedded in fierce rage. The chains jangled harshly.

Jason looked to see Serhii yanking hard on the chains, murder in his eyes. "I'll kill you!" he bit out.

Zar swaggered across the stage. "Yeah, and how exactly will you do that?"

"As soon as I get my chance, I'll rip your throat out!"

"Such nasty language. I think you need punishment for that." He snatched the whip from the floorboards and thwacked it down onto the floor.

Serhii winced but then glared at Zar.

Zar flashed the whip onto Serhii's chest.

Jason wished he could close his ears as well as his eyes.

Somehow, the thwack of leather against flesh was just as bad as seeing it. He could feel it, breaking open his own skin, in tandem with the man tied there, the past and the present blurring.

Dear God, he prayed. Please help him. You know what it feels like too….

Serhii was silent, though, no screams yanked from his throat; although, eventually, groans of pain. Jason shook, hoping that some of the phantom pain he felt was actually him absorbing some of it…

"Scream for me," said Zar, strutting close to Serhii.

Too close.

Serhii lashed out and bit down.

Zar shrieked, trying to pull away as blood poured down his ear. Finally, he pulled away and guards jumped up and one slammed a live shockrod into Serhii's stomach. This time, he did scream, sagging against the chains.

Medics rushed to Zar, flying from the hidden wings. They tended to his bloody ear; it looked like the top was almost ripped off. They jabbed him with a painkiller.

Thank you, prayed Jason, not caring that he should forgive his enemies. This was Serhii's enemy, anyway.

Serhii stirred a little, groaning. No one tended to him, even though bloody slashes raked his chest, along with random cuts.

Now perhaps they'll leave him alone….

Zar's ear bandaged, he stood shakily, the medics helping him.

"Why don't we take you back to your room," said Elena, from below the stage.

"No—I'm not letting him spoil my birthday!" He ripped the knife from his belt and marched across the stage, then cut through Serhii's golden pants. He couldn't move much, as he was barely conscious, though he struggled weakly. In a moment, all he wore was underwear.

"After all," said Zar, "I'm not done unwrapping my present." There was an insane gleam in his eye.

Jason turned away as the knife continued, but then thought, perhaps…. I should watch. Perhaps I can do something.

I have to.

Unlike with Elliot and Saul, I'm actually in the same space.

What can I do? They'll shock me.

Are you so beaten down you can't protect another human being? Have you lost your soul already to them?

He trembled, pain lancing through his palms. No.

The knife sliced through the skin on Serhii's chest, and he gasped in pain. Zar carved lovingly, grinning with delight.

Jason gently extricated his arm from Vanya's, then tapped Karim, who nodded, agreeing to take over keeping watch over the boy. Then, dread pounding through his veins, he wove through the rapt crowd toward the stage. Before they could catch him, he jumped up onto it, pain shooting through his shoulder blade. Then he grasped Zar's arm, whirled him around, and slammed a fist into his face.

Zar was thrown back onto the floor and immense satisfaction roared through Jason's heart. He dove for the knife then saw the golden gun glittering at Zar's belt. Brandishing the knife, he dashed for it, yanked it from its holster as Zar moaned, writhing weakly.

He aimed the gun at Elena, her golden hair gleaming below, misty beyond the floodlights. "Let him go or I'll kill you."

"I don't think you will."

"This place changes you." He took a step forward. He was bluffing but he had to at least partly believe it. He could aim at a non-lethal area. Far from the innocent child she carried.

Her eyes weighed him. "You know this is futile."

He thought of the autoshocks. Perhaps it was.

Then he had another idea. Still keeping the gun trained on Elena, he jabbed the knife beneath his throat. "If you touch him again, I will kill myself. Then you won't have your precious prize."

Elena smiled, slowly and graciously. "You do know that is futile as well. I have told you what will happen if you kill yourself. What's to stop us from bringing your precious Connie here? I'm tempted to do that now, because you're threatening suicide. You'll still be alive to see her ripped apart—"

He pulled the trigger.

Molten lava blazing into his heart.

Darkness.

Aches writhed over his muscles. Light stabbed his eyes. He shut his eyes, keeping as still as possible so he didn't feel any more pain than he had to. His body felt stiff, unnatural. Half of it like a foreign slab of meat haphazardly stitched to the rest of him. Panic built inside him; what if he was paralyzed? He moved his fingers; they tingled as if tiny shocks were embedded in his flesh. He moved his feet and despite the pain was happy to know he could still move.

He opened his eyes, squinting at first, adjusting to the light. He was lying on something cold and hard, above him a gleam of sunlight. The green of plants not far away. His heart leaped but then he realized it was just the Cathedral. Or a replica of it because it seemed bigger. Voices echoed through the vast space, soft and indistinct. Everything seemed suffused in a misty haze.

Beside him lay a body.

Horror stabbed him. He resisted the urge to twist away—he didn't think he could move well anyway, and what if he were being watched.

He shifted just enough to see if the man was truly dead and was relieved to see his chest rose and fell.

It was Serhii. Hard to tell under all the blood. He was lying with his hips turned and his arms spread out as if randomly dropped there. His eyes were closed.

Bloody slashes had been carved all the way down to his feet. Some of them random, some a sort of design, and some places the skin was flayed completely off. Whip scars laced his chest. Blood soaked his hair so that it wasn't golden anymore; it was a deep red, just a few hints of the gold glistening in it.

Such a beautiful soul, crushed by them. A piercing wail rose up through his chest, but it stayed trapped there, aching, as tears streamed down his cheeks.

Footsteps. Shuffling closer.

Jason closed his eyes again.

"My father won't be pleased," said Zar, sounding a little muffled.

Elena chuckled. "He knows how wild you can be."

"Your security was lax. Even if he doesn't care about me as much as I thought, I will do something about this."

"What will you do?"

"I'll shut you down."

"You wouldn't dare." Jason wasn't sure but there might have been fear in her voice. "You want the freedom of this place."

"Where slaves are given free rein to crush their masters! You must make up for this or…. I'll tell about you."

"I don't think you will. This is just an empty threat."

"You're mocking me! That's what this whole night was about!"

"You need to settle down. Yes, it didn't go as planned. But you did have some wonderful experiences, didn't you?"

A silence; Jason assumed he nodded.

"Even the violence was exciting. You were never in any real danger."

"I suppose…."

"Perhaps it did go a little too far. I wasn't sure he'd do that."

"He needs punishment."

"Yes, he does. But I can think of something which can satiate you and punish him at the same time."

"What?" There was an appalling eagerness in his voice.

"As long as you stay on good behavior. Remember, besides our revels, we must be self-disciplined. If you're truly one of us."

"Okay."

"I will not only give you your own shockrod…."

"My own shockrod!" Enthusiasm rocked his voice.

"But I'll also lease Jason to you one of these days."

"Oh, really!"

"That will be his punishment."

"And my delight. Oh, thank you!"

A rustling, as if he'd hugged her. "Careful, your ear."

He gasped, and the rustling stopped.

"There will of course still be limits. The consort of a queen cannot be passed around freely. And you must prove your restraint; in addition, you must continue to show you are truly one of us by following our laws."

"I can do that."

"Good."

"I can think of a few uses of my new shockrod…."

The footsteps shuffled closer. Jason fought the urge to hold his breath. Breathe evenly as if you're asleep, he told himself.

After a silence Zar said, "It's a pity Father is calling me back."

"You deserve a recovery. Though now that you're older, he is eager to begin your training in earnest."

He sighed. "The cross I have to bear. The family business. But… you're right. The more unbearable everything else is, the more wonderful it is when I enjoy myself. It was a fun night. The boys were delectable. I felt just a little too much pain for my tastes."

"We have a couple unusually wild subjects."

"The more risk, the more reward! I suppose I am growing up… You'd never let them really hurt me."

"I did so love how fierce he looked; I confess I got a little carried away, waiting to see what he'd do."

"He did look fabulous. Look at him now. So beautiful, sleeping…. I look forward to teaching him a lesson."

Jason cringed at the eagerness in his voice.

"And my slave…. A piece of art now. Too bad he fell unconscious before I got to take him to my room…. I wasn't in the mood for that much blood."

"There's always next time," said Elena.

Their voices faded.

Jason's whole body trembled uncontrollably, shivers rippling through him. Relief they were gone, but the horror of their presence lingered.

More footsteps. "Please," said Zakhar desperately.

"Oh, all right," said Michelle. "But make it quick."

A soft thump nearby. "Oh, Serhii. What have they done to you." A soft raspy sound, like a hand running through hair. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I wanted to help…but they…held me down…" His voice broke.

Through his eyelashes, Jason saw Zakhar's eyes dart over to Jason. Warmth welled up in them. Then tears streamed down his face, glinting, light lancing into Jason's eyes, silvery, blurry.

He held Serhii's cheek, eyes running over the injuries. "They won't even tend to you… will they let you…." His voice caught.

"I won't wait all day," said Michelle, arms crossed. "I need a good morning pick-me-up."

"C-coming." He kissed Serhii's forehead, cupping his jaw gently.

"Oh, myliy…" he whispered. Then whispered something in his ear.

"Now!" said Michelle. "You'll make up for this by giving me the time of my life."

"Yes, mistress," said Zakhar. With a final glance at both of them, he turned away and faded into the glowing haze.

Jason didn't know how much longer he lay there. The silvery light shifted into gold. He knew he should move, to make sure he wasn't numb forever, but he couldn't bring himself to. Besides, he needed to stay with Serhii until he woke.

Then he realized he might be able to help him… it seemed he still wore his clothes, minus the jacket…

His heart pounding, horrified he'd been so sluggish, he yanked himself to his knees.

Pain crashed across his mind but then he forced himself to see the one who was in much worse shape than he was.

He took off his shirt and tore it into strips, then bound them, ignoring the protest in his muscles. The stiffness in his fingers which felt as if invisible tape were keeping them down. Some of the wounds weren't easily bound, but he tried his best. Especially with the ones that still seemed like they were leaking blood.

His fingers were bloody by the end, but at least he'd done something…. Though he needed much more.

The iridescent fountain in the center beckoned to him, but he fell back, exhausted. He could do no more. So he lay down beside Serhii, keeping him company. Guarding him. Though part of him knew he was in no shape to do much.

At least I defended him…. though it didn't help….

It always matters, said a small, insistent voice.

Serhii stirred. His eyes flickered. He mumbled something. Then lifted his hand weakly.

"What is it?" Jason leaned in closer.

A small smile lifted his mouth. "I did it."

"What did you do?"

The smile grew wider then faded as his eyes rolled back again.

More footsteps. Jason cringed but then saw it was Rick. He said he was on the way to clean up after the party, but he could help wash Serhii's wounds, since no guards were present.

Rick untied some of the bandages; they were soaked with blood anyway. Rick washed the wounds gently and bound them up with nimble fingers. Gratefulness soared through Jason. "Thank you."

"I couldn't just leave him there… How about you?"

"I'm fine."

"I'd help you get out of here, but…I'll be missed." He darted away as soon as footsteps sounded down the hallway.

A woman strolled into the room. Tamara. She looked only half-awake, but her eyes sparked to life when she saw him. "Oh. I didn't know you were still here." She looked apprehensively at Serhii, then averted her eyes.

Jason pushed himself to his feet; his vision wavered. He almost collapsed. She hesitated then stepped over to hold him up.

"Please." His mouth was dry. "Please help him."

Tamara nodded. "He should be in Med. I'll get them in here." She looked down with disdain at the blood on the floor.

"He shouldn't have been—" Jason's voice faltered. Tears spilled onto his cheeks. "Hurt this much."

Tamara pursed her lips. "Perhaps. There's a reason I don't attend the parties. They're too extreme for my tastes. But some people need an outlet…" She wrinkled her nose, turned away, taking Jason slightly with her.

"Don't turn away from him. Look—you've done this too."

"No, I haven't. I have no part in this."

"Everyone here does."

"I'm not here to debate semantics with you. I need to get back to work. You need to get to Med."

"No—I don't need Med." He hated the idea of that place. "Just let me go back—down." He had almost said "home". He hid from that fact.

"All right. You don't look too bad. But you should take a restorative. I'll call one in for you."

"Thanks."

She called Med and then two guards to escort him back down. They tried to grab him, but he shook them off and gathered strength he didn't have to walk down the stairs with measured steps.

He almost cried with relief when he saw the number 22 on his door.

Inside, he sank down onto the bunk and faced the wall. Eventually, he shed the nightmares enough to drift off into dreams.