Byron grimaced. “I’m sure you’ve heard.”
“Heard what?”
“Don’t play dumb, Meyer. It doesn’t suit your egotism.”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re about.”
“Have it your way. We’ll pretend you don’t know that she was stolen by one of your…cohorts.”
“Stolen?” Meyer said, his eyed widening. “You let her outside alone?”
“She was in the garden when someone broke in,” Byron said slowly, annoyed at having to tell Meyer something he already knew, at being pulled into the boy’s game.
Meyer looked at him for a moment and then burst into laughter, rocking back and forth so hard he dumped his sapling onto the floor in the process. For at least two minutes without stopping, he slapped his knees and hooted with snide glee. Then he quieted and wiped his eyes as if they produced tears. He should have gone into acting instead of business. He hardly qualified as Second Order. Surely he’d fit in better with the Thirds in entertainment.
“That’s priceless,” Meyer said. “Stolen. Last year ran away, this year stolen.”
“Don’t fool yourself, Meyer. I know you had your finger in it.”
“Me? Why, I wasn’t even here.” Meyer pulled his sapling back onto his lap and patted her absently while he spoke.
“Angel and Draven were. And you have a private helicopter. You could have traveled without registering.”
“I’d never do something so humanoid. I’m worth far too much.”
“So you had your army of missing persons act for you,” Byron said. “I know, I made you angry and you retaliated. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re up to.”
“My army? What am I ‘up to,’ if I may ask?”
“You’re at the top of our list. We will find every detail, and you will be held accountable. We know you’ve been stealing saps and breeding them, even arming them against capture.”
“For what purpose?” Meyer leaned forward, his eyes sparkling. “Why would I arm sapiens when they could kill me, too? Are you fool enough to think I’m making a day army to take the world back from Superiors?”
“It’s possible.”
Meyer threw his head back and cackled. Byron knew his own laugh could border on chilling when he wanted it to, but it could not compare to the high, creepy laughter of a child. “You got me, Enforcer. I shall rule the world! Bahahaha—,” Meyer burst out, then stopped mid-laugh. “I’m only pulling a joke.”
Byron studied the boy, trying to determine if Meyer had let some truth slip and stopped when he realized his mistake, or if it was all part of the act.
“Tell me, good sir, why I’d want humans to rule the earth again,” Meyer said. “I’m a Superior, a rich and somewhat famous one, with more money than I’ll ever be able to spend if I live until eternity. I have saps enough to feed a full staff in three cities. Why would I want to go into hiding, lurking in the night, escaping the very people who were once my livestock?”
“There are many reasons people do irrational things,” Byron said, somewhat proud that he’d kept his calm so well the whole visit. “Some people do them for no reason at all. It’s called insanity.”
“You accuse me of insanity?”
“Accuse is a strong word.”
Meyer laughed and clapped his pure white hands. “Oh, I do hope you’ll come by often. You entertain me so.”
“You can count on it.”
For a few seconds, Meyer sipped on his sapling, who had settled herself into his lap and began to doze again. “So, you think I stole your sapien.”
“Not directly. You had her stolen. We already know the thief and have trackers on him now.”
“Is that so? And who might it be?”
“That is classified information, of course.”
“But you said I already know. Besides, you know I am privy to classified information if I want it.”
“Careful what you say there. You may be a Second, but I am an Enforcer.”
“No matter,” Meyer said, waving a hand in that same dismissive manner. “I’ve more money than you will see in a lifetime. I can buy anything I want, even information.”
Byron bristled. “You come close to treason, son. Rest assured, I would not hesitate to arrest you for it, if I can’t find evidence of other criminal activity. You may have money, but I have the power here.”
“Ah, but even you should know, money speaks louder than titles. That’s the beauty, and the flaw, of capitalism. Maybe we should have gone with a different form of government, as Belarus or Greenland chose.”
“That’s treason,” Byron growled. “I could arrest you this moment.”
“But you won’t,” Meyer said. “Then you’d have no chance to prove that I’m innocent. Besides, we all know that every form of government is flawed. There is no perfect power, because money buys power. Or, if you prefer, I could buy you.”
“You will never have that power,” Byron said, struggling to steady his voice. “Money may speak louder than power, but it will never speak louder than principle, than truth.”
“In my experience, that depends on the sum more than the person,” Meyer said. “We all have our price.”
“There’s no price for what is right.”
“Maybe so, maybe so. But I’m curious. Who stole your sapien, Enforcer? How much did I pay him, in your fantasy?”
“I doubt you’d have to pay him much. He’s a snake, an Illegal, quite an unscrupulous character.”
“Ah, but Illegals don’t exist. Isn’t that right?”
“They have no right to exist,” Byron answered easily. “We will be better off when anyone who has fallen from the system has fallen from existence. You know that.”
“So who is this Illegal you’ve deluded yourself into believing I employ? Believe it or not, I know the name of each and every employee on my payroll. And despite your misplaced paranoia regarding my involvement, I’d be happy to help if I could.”
“Ah, but Illegals don’t have names. You should know that. I’m sure you get lots of them crawling in here trying to get your charity.”
“Very true,” Meyer said, a tragic look on his weasely little face. “But by law, I cannot repaper anyone who has sold his papers. So I’m sure if he’s an Illegal, I haven’t seen him.”
“I’m talking about your minion, that Third Order traitor, Draven,” Byron said. What did it matter if he divulged information the kid already had? Byron had no qualms about revealing Draven’s name and blackening his reputation. Draven would be on trial soon enough, and no smudging of his name would hurt his case more than his own actions had.
“Draven?” Meyer leaned back and studied Byron for a moment. “The name does sound familiar.”
“Cut the act,” Byron said, losing patience. He felt like the person who brings news that’s already been heard, and is allowed to go on telling the whole story in great and exciting detail before his audience says, Yeah, I know. I already heard.
“I would, Enforcer, but it’s no act. I honestly have no idea…oh, now wait a moment. I do know that name. You don’t mean Draven Castle, do you?” When Byron didn’t respond, Meyer laughed and slapped his knee. “Oh, you can be sure your sap is a mess by now. Probably dead.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Draven Castle? He’s well known for his various…indiscretions, shall we say?”
“Indiscretions?”
“See here, he’s a good member of society, contributes, works as much as any Third. He’s well liked, so he gets away with things. Charming, they say.”
“Who says that?”
“Oh, you know. Everyone.”
“So you admit, you do know him?”
“I haven’t had the pleasure of making his acquaintance, but his reputation precedes him.”
“How so?”
“I hear things here and there, on my travels. This Draven character has had various assignments where our paths crossed minutes after we did. Never met him in person, mind you.
Just heard tell.”
“Heard tell what?” Byron asked through clenched teeth. The boy was obviously enjoying his knowledge of something Byron had failed to recognize.
“Just that he’s had near-misses with the law but talked his way out of the charges. He’s stolen before, you know. Told the owner he found her sapien wandering on the street. But he kept her for two days before giving her back, and then she was overdrawn.”
Byron considered this, remembering when he’d learned that Draven had kept Cali for three days. How had he not heard rumors, with all the time he’d spent with that cheap Third backar chodu before Draven betrayed him in return for his kindness?
“Oh, and he draws from babies, but he hides this particular fancy in public. A few people have noticed, though.”
“I notice you prefer saplings, too. That’s no crime.”
“No, but it won’t make you popular. And I don’t draw from babies. Magpie is eight human years old.”
“It’s not so different.”
“Some people look down on that preference more than others. I think it’s right cruel. But like I said, I’ve never met the man. Only heard things.”
“I hardly think that’s cause for a reputation.” Byron found himself disappointed, not in the way of an Enforcer who has failed to gain evidence, but in a more petty way, like a malicious gossip who has failed to hear anything salacious enough to circulate.
“There are other stories, too. He’s tried to get out of paying for extra services from mistresses, he’s a pretty-boy who likes men, he’s a fetishist, he overdraws saps by just a bit when he feeds, not enough to be charged, mind you, but just a bit too much. People notice him and they like to talk about someone noticeable. Every time he does something out of line, people put it away in their files to pass along later in conversation, and after a while, it’s a reputation.”
“I took him on an assignment before he turned traitorous. He’s not that fascinating.”
“Yes, well, sex perverts do tend to fascinate us, don’t they?”
Byron straightened in his seat. “What?”
“Sex perverts. You know, Superiors who get their rocks off for homo-sapiens.”
“Yes, I know what a sex pervert is. But you’re mistaken. You’re thinking of someone else.”
“I don’t think so. Thin, dark guy, attractive, great hair by any standards? He got caught with a sap in Vegas just last year, but apparently he talked his way out of it. Told the Enforcers some rubbish about doing her a favor. I don’t know the whole of it. Just hearsay.”
As Byron listened this freak child, he found himself starting to believe the story. After all, Draven had once told Byron that he’d rented Cali for the night only because he felt sorry for her, because he’d wanted to help when she was overdrawn.
But Byron had insisted a doctor examine the sap to make sure Draven hadn’t done anything untoward. Obviously, Meyer had found out and was rubbing the knowledge in his face, trying to make a fool of him.
“No Enforcer would buy that,” Byron said. “We’re trained better.”
“As I said, everything has a price.”
“Are you implying that we’d take bribes, and from a lowly Third?”
“Of course not. I’m sure you wouldn’t. But some Enforcers aren’t so honest as you, Byron. Besides, there are lesser men who could be bribed, other Thirds who would corroborate a story.”
Like sapien doctors at the clinic.
Byron had checked Draven’s files when he’d taken an interest in the Third. In the fifty years Draven had lived in North America, he’d worked for the Confinement in some capacity nearly the entire time. He’d worked there as a catcher off and on for fifteen years, and at the clinic itself for several different five year stretches. In addition, he’d been a livestock handler at the Confinement and worked at admissions, with shorter stints in the records and purchases departments. All menial jobs held by any number of Thirds at any one time. All jobs where one could make the acquaintance of a sapien doctor.
If Draven had known Byron would arrest him, he could have easily contacted a receptive doctor, perhaps one who owed him a favor. Thirds were always groveling at the feet of others, regardless of order, ingratiating themselves in the most sickening way, their hopeful yet conspiratorial expressions pathetic enough to disgust even the most indulgent Second. As an Enforcer, Byron had wasted countless hours and days mediating the constant squabbles arising between the lazy Thirds who failed to fulfill agreements and the humanoid Thirds who believed words alone constituted a contractual obligation. They were hardly more civilized than saps. Some of them surely paid back the favors they owed, though. And Byron had told Draven that he planned to have Cali examined after Draven had rented her. For three days.
Rage swelled in Byron’s chest at the mere thought of it, those depraved sickos who preyed on weak and helpless animals, sometimes killing them, so they could indulge their perverse sense of power. More often than not, these atrocities were perpetuated by Thirds who felt powerless, and rightly so. Having no power in society, they found something with even less power to torture. That’s how they all thought. Worthless Third Order leeches. Should have all been sent to die like they were meant to. That was the sole purpose of their existence.
And now this. Not only did this ten-year-old child mock him openly, but his own friend had played him beautifully. He couldn’t bear to credit a Third with such a crafty maneuver. But the only person who knew of Draven’s little three-day holiday with Cali was Byron. Meyer could only have found out from Draven.
“I should be going,” Byron said. He stood without waiting for Meyer’s response.
“Come back anytime,” Meyer said. “I’ve gossiped like a lady today, but I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I’m only sorry you had to find out from me that your friend is a pervert as well as a traitorous thief. That’s what we get for befriending the commoners, eh? Stick to our own, that’s what I always say.”
Byron resisted the urge to bludgeon the smug gleam of triumph from the boy’s eyes. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right, Enforcer. I’m always right.”
His goodbyes finished, Byron drove back to his apartment in a dark mood. Somehow Draven had blinded him to his deceitfulness. Byron considered himself an excellent judge of character, but Draven had fooled him from start to finish. If Byron had heard rumors, he would have used greater caution when dealing with the Third, but no one had said a word about his young underling.
Meyer certainly knew plenty of stories. He probably mingled with enough Third Order scum to hear every salacious detail. Byron stayed in his own order for the most part. They wouldn’t waste time gossiping about Third Order canaille.
The longer Byron considered the possibility of Draven’s bloodbagging tendencies, the more likely they seemed. How had he trusted that Draven would rent a sapien as a prostitute and not use her as such? Draven’s violation explained the female’s infertility, too. Superior strength proved far too great for a human to withstand. Damaging something inside and rendering a sap infertile was the least that could happen.
Worse than being fooled, Byron had let Draven coax out his horror story, had told him about the one incident he’d rather never remember. Draven had waited until Byron got good and drunk, and then he’d dragged the story out of him. Maybe he’d considered telling Byron the truth, but he’d wanted to ensure that Byron would not arrest him for the despicable things he’d done before he confessed. Once he’d gotten Byron’s story, he’d decided to keep his own twisted tales to himself.
Byron cursed in disgust. This was his thanks for offering a benevolent hand to a Third. He should have known better than to trust one of them. Thirds were worthless, less than worthless—sucking strength and order and dignity from the fragile government the Second Order had worked so hard to install. The government had established Orders to keep everyone in their proper place, to ensure that everyone had a part in it, even society’s dredges. And those lo
wlifes turned around and committed treasonous acts as a matter of course.
Byron decided to call Lapin and Lathan one more time before he took matters into his own hands. After all, he had sworn to uphold and enforce the Law. Without it, the world would be no better off than when humans ran it. Byron considered for only a short time. After all, his assignment had gone nowhere, contacting Meyer could get him suspended, and his boss seemed determined to block Byron’s every attempt to make something happen around the shithole of Princeton. Meanwhile, Draven had robbed a Second of his most valuable possession. He had stolen and violated not just any sapien, but Byron’s own personal favorite. He flagrantly broke the Law, and no one did a souldamned thing to stop him.
Byron’s duty as an Enforcer, as a member of the Second Order, and as a Superior itself was to protect that Law against such outrages and enact justice upon those who spurned it.
Chapter 42
Draven stumbled from the tent, his eyelids fluttering in a vain attempt to block out the dazzling sunlight. He had opened the tent without thinking, imagining evening approached. Otherwise, he would not have awakened. He never awoke before evening unless something roused him. Closing his eyes against the light that left him completely blind, he listened, heard nothing. Scented, savored…everything. Cali’s scent saturated him after sharing a tent with her, and in his initial confusion, still clouded with sleep and shocked at the assault of sunlight on his unshaded eyes, he could not determine how much of her scent emanated from him.
Although he usually enjoyed this perfume, now the prevalence of her scent in this unfamiliar place rendered his scenting ability useless as well as his sight. Panic swelled in his chest. Where had she gone? If he called her name, would someone hear him, someone besides Cali? Or had she left of her own accord?
If she had attempted to run, she would be caught before she died of exposure. Anyone who saw a fleeing sap would capture her, as he had the first time they met, when she’d been only a child. The first thing she’d tell her captor was where Draven had hidden. He should leave before then, perhaps before nightfall. But the sun on the snow negated that option. He had no choice but to wait, and hope the glare of sun on snow would immobilize others as it had him.
The Renegades (The Superiors) Page 29