Volume 1: A Serviceable Boy
Chapter 16
Consequences
Chapter Notes
This is a really short chapter, so I’m posting it early. Warning: It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, which will be resolved soon!
Chapter Notes
This is a really short chapter, so I’m posting it early. Warning: It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, which will be resolved soon!
This is a really short chapter, so I’m posting it early. Warning: It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, which will be resolved soon!
The morning passed in a luxuriant haze. His fellow Councillors were mouths moving in slow motion, forming meaningless words. Quorums, studies, data points, factory outputs, trade surpluses—it was all so much blather.When Gersha rose from his seat in the Council chamber, he winced, still feeling the effects of last night, and wondered if anyone could tell. But that was absurd, and anyway no one was looking at him; no one had eyes for anything but the data on their handhelds. Even Besha was too busy sucking up to Verán to spare a glance for him.Idiots. Why did they think any of this mattered?Then he was back in the solitude of his office, where he could spike his tea with sap—why not, for once?—and lean back and remember the squeeze of Tilrey’s knuckles, the tightness of Tilrey’s hand, the softness of Tilrey’s hair, and Tilrey’s voice saying “my love,” and—A knock. “Fir Egil’s here to see you, Fir. Are you available?”“Yes, yes, of course.” Gersha sat up too quickly, feeling that burn again, and shuttered his face so Ranek wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. His heart clenched in his chest, his breath coming short, his palms icy as he realized abruptly what this could mean.Ranek had the results of the surveillance.
I’m not ready. We need one more night. I need him inside me—
“Well?” he asked too loudly, as Ranek sat down.“Gersha, what’s the matter? You’re white as a sheet.”*The Library was quiet today, pillars of sunlit dust sifting into green shadow. When Tilrey reached his usual carrel, the one with a view of the jet-black, pyramidal spines of Government Sector, Celinda was there waiting for him.She sat in his usual chair, her legs insolently spread in trousers, the masculine clothes emphasizing her curves. Her ash-blond hair hung loose over her face as if she’d just come from being fucked, but there was a tightness to her mouth.Had Bror sent her to seduce him, despite Tilrey’s definite no on that issue? Or had she come of her own accord? He folded his arms. “What do you want, love?”Celinda straightened, bringing her knees together, with a jagged smile. “Always so happy to see me. I’m just wondering if you gave any more thought to what we discussed last time.”“I’ve forgotten what we discussed last time. If you had any sense, so would you.”“Oh god, Tilrey, you silly little slut.” She opened her mouth as if to laugh, but nothing came out. “Does it hurt walking around all day with that stick up your ass?”Her expression was relaxed, almost wanton, like she’d over-sapped, but her eyes flitted nervously over his shoulder. Something was wrong.“It’s like you think you’re one of them,” she went on. “Are you falling in love with that little Councillor of yours?”Tilrey was about to tell her to cut the bullshit when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. He turned, expecting Bror or one of the others, and saw instead a burly stranger, a Laborer in workman’s clothes, something glinting in his hand.When the man bodyslammed him into the nearest metal shelf, he was too startled to cry out. Then someone else was yanking his arms, pinioning them, and by the time he had the presence of mind to shove his elbow into the first man’s belly and kick out, a hand was already tugging his head back, baring his throat.Tilrey was expecting the sharp prick in his neck. Tried to twist away from it, but his captor tangled fingers in his hair, held him still. He froze as the needle went in, knowing it could do damage if he didn’t.The other man, the one he’d managed to hit, rebounded toward him, cursing. “Fucking bastard. You said he wouldn’t be any trouble.”“Well, he won’t be now.” Celinda’s voice was grim. “Keep it down, why don’t you?”How did you deal with the cameras? It was Tilrey’s last thought as the world grayed out around him and his legs folded. Strong arms caught him before he hit the floor.
The morning passed in a luxuriant haze. His fellow Councillors were mouths moving in slow motion, forming meaningless words. Quorums, studies, data points, factory outputs, trade surpluses—it was all so much blather.
When Gersha rose from his seat in the Council chamber, he winced, still feeling the effects of last night, and wondered if anyone could tell. But that was absurd, and anyway no one was looking at him; no one had eyes for anything but the data on their handhelds. Even Besha was too busy sucking up to Verán to spare a glance for him.
Idiots. Why did they think any of this mattered?
Then he was back in the solitude of his office, where he could spike his tea with sap—why not, for once?—and lean back and remember the squeeze of Tilrey’s knuckles, the tightness of Tilrey’s hand, the softness of Tilrey’s hair, and Tilrey’s voice saying “my love,” and—
A knock. “Fir Egil’s here to see you, Fir. Are you available?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Gersha sat up too quickly, feeling that burn again, and shuttered his face so Ranek wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. His heart clenched in his chest, his breath coming short, his palms icy as he realized abruptly what this could mean.
Ranek had the results of the surveillance.
I’m not ready. We need one more night. I need him inside me—
“Well?” he asked too loudly, as Ranek sat down.
“Gersha, what’s the matter? You’re white as a sheet.”
The Library was quiet today, pillars of sunlit dust sifting into green shadow. When Tilrey reached his usual carrel, the one with a view of the jet-black, pyramidal spines of Government Sector, Celinda was there waiting for him.
She sat in his usual chair, her legs insolently spread in trousers, the masculine clothes emphasizing her curves. Her ash-blond hair hung loose over her face as if she’d just come from being fucked, but there was a tightness to her mouth.
Had Bror sent her to seduce him, despite Tilrey’s definite no on that issue? Or had she come of her own accord? He folded his arms. “What do you want, love?”
Celinda straightened, bringing her knees together, with a jagged smile. “Always so happy to see me. I’m just wondering if you gave any more thought to what we discussed last time.”
“I’ve forgotten what we discussed last time. If you had any sense, so would you.”
“Oh god, Tilrey, you silly little slut.” She opened her mouth as if to laugh, but nothing came out. “Does it hurt walking around all day with that stick up your ass?”
Her expression was relaxed, almost wanton, like she’d over-sapped, but her eyes flitted nervously over his shoulder. Something was wrong.
“It’s like you think you’re one of them,” she went on. “Are you falling in love with that little Councillor of yours?”
Tilrey was about to tell her to cut the bullshit when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. He turned, expecting Bror or one of the others, and saw instead a burly stranger, a Laborer in workman’s clothes, something glinting in his hand.
When the man bodyslammed him into the nearest metal shelf, he was too startled to cry out. Then someone else was yanking his arms, pinioning them, and by the time he had the presence of mind to shove his elbow into the first man’s belly and kick out, a hand was already tugging his head back, baring his throat.
Tilrey was expecting the sharp prick in his neck. Tried to twist away from it, but his captor tangled fingers in his hair, held him still. He froze as the needle went in, knowing it could do damage if he didn’t.
The other man, the one he’d managed to hit, rebounded toward him, cursing. “Fucking bastard. You said he wouldn’t be any trouble.”
“Well, he won’t be now.” Celinda’s voice was grim. “Keep it down, why don’t you?”
How did you deal with the cameras? It was Tilrey’s last thought as the world grayed out around him and his legs folded. Strong arms caught him before he hit the floor.