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“As I said, he's no longer of use to
us.”

“And how long do I have before you decide to
call him home?”

She set her drink back down, being careful to
place it directly back in the ring it had left the first time. “The
standard program would include a recall upon the event of your
death. However, since we’re effectively freeing the boy, rather
than selling or leasing him to you, that particular trigger won’t
be employed this time.”

I still had doubts about her motives, but what
could I do? I had absolutely no leverage here. My only option was
to take Ayo and run, and worry about the rest once we were away
from Adele and the Dollhouse. “And the rest of his
program?”

“As I mentioned before, not everything can be
deactivated. We can change what the implant contains, but we can’t
undo everything else that went into making him what he is.
Certainly you understand what I mean by that?”

Yes, I did. Because as Gideon had pointed out,
a lot more than an implant had gone into creating Ayo. Genetic
manipulation. Response conditioning. And, if Gideon was right,
years and years of torture to make him react the way he did to
pain. Either that, or some incomprehensible bit of
magic.

“The first thing to consider is his
appearance.”

“His appearance?” I asked in surprise. “You
mean, do I want you to change the way he looks?”

“Miguel Donato wanted the boy to appear young
for as long as possible. We’re able to accommodate that type of
request, but it’s not easy, and it’s especially not easy on the
subject.”

“You mean, it’s hurting Ayo?”

“We’ve essentially stalled his physical
development in early adolescence. His body still ages, but not in
the way it was meant to.”

I closed my eyes and tried to slow the sudden
racing of my heart. I’d thought of the many mental aspects of Ayo’s
programming often — the trigger to orgasm, the words that caused
his inert state, the way he reacted to pain — but for some reason,
I’d never stopped to think about what it took to keep his body so
slender and hairless, or his voice so soft.

It had never occurred to me that he could
age.

But it wasn’t my decision to make. I opened my
eyes again to face her. “I want him here,” I said, doing my best to
make it sound like a request rather than an argument. “I think he
should have some say in what we decide.”

She pursed her lips, debating. “I don’t
generally advise that slaves be allowed a say in their own
program.”

“But he’s not a slave. Not to me.”

She cocked her head, as if weighing the
options, but finally said to the silent man at the door, “Bring the
boy.”

It seemed to take forever for him to return,
and each second that ticked by felt like a tease. At any moment
now, Ayo might be back in my arms. I’d almost started to believe it
could never happen, but now here I was, waiting for him to
appear.

What if it was all a trick? What if the slave
they returned with wasn’t Ayo? Or, even worse, what if it was him
but he no longer knew me? What if they’d already operated? What
if—

It was absurd, and yet seemed every bit as
possible as suddenly being allowed to leave with Ayo at my
side.

I rose from the couch but stopped short of
pacing the room. The sound of the rain hitting the roof suddenly
seemed almost unbearable.

“He’s been asking for you,” Adele said, “but
we’ve told him nothing. He’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

The door opened, and I held my breath as Ayo
came through.

He was barefoot, but otherwise fully dressed
in clothing that was simple, yet clean and in good condition.
Despite not wearing his slave tunic, I was reminded of the first
time I’d met him, when Donato had brought him into our bedroom. His
pale eyes seemed empty, as if he’d lost all hope. As if he knew he
was being led to his doom.

Until his gaze landed on me.

“Misha?” Suddenly those pale eyes flared with
hope and excitement and maybe love — or maybe nothing but
idolization and devotion, but at least it was
something
other than that terrible, lost, blank stare — and I could barely
force myself to breathe.

And then he was in my arms, shaking as I held
him. I buried my face in his curls, breathing in his scent, reeling
at the relief that welled up in me, not caring if Adele and her
lackey saw the tears that threatened behind my eyes or if they
thought me a fool for caring so much about their
“merchandise.”

“Misha,” he asked against my chest. “Are you
really here?”

“Yes.” I laughed, because it felt better than
crying, and those seemed to be the only two options available. “I’m
here.”

“I thought I’d never see you
again.”

I’d feared the same thing. I cupped his cheeks
in my hand and gazed down into his eyes. They’d straightened his
broken nose, and his bruises were almost gone. “Are you all
right?”

He nodded. “I think so. I don’t remember much
after that morning when they found us.”

I turned his head gently to examine the spot
behind his right ear. His hair covered it, but a cursory inspection
showed no signs of them having tampered with his chip yet. He
reached up to touch the spot.

“Have they given me a new program?”

Adele answered him before I could. “Not yet.
That’s what we’re here to discuss.”

“They’re letting us go,” I said to Ayo. To my
own ears, I sounded unsure. My doubts about Adele and the Dollhouse
tainted my tone, but Ayo didn’t seem to notice.

“I can leave with Misha?” he asked, turning to
her.

“Soon,” she said. “Possibly as early as this
evening. But first…” She gestured toward the couch. “We have a
great deal to discuss.”

I guided Ayo to the couch, and we sat
side-by-side facing Adele.

“The first question,” she said to him, “is
whether we keep the blocks in place that prevent you from
aging.”

“Aging?” Ayo seemed as surprised by the
question as I’d been. He reached up to touch his cheek, as if he
expected to already find it changed. “I’ve always looked this
way.”

“Not always, but for as long as you can
remember, yes. But you do realize you’re older than you
appear.”

“How old am I, exactly?”

“About twenty.”

“Twenty?” I asked. Some voice in the back of
my brain told me this couldn’t be right — something didn’t add up —
but Adele was still speaking, and I had no time to think it all
through.

“Keeping your body young is complicated, and
it’ll eventually become problematic. The longer we keep you like
this, the shorter your lifespan. So, unless you and Misha object,
I’d recommend we remove the neural blocks.”

“What will happen then?” Ayo asked.

“You’ll progress rather rapidly through
puberty until you reach your true age. The transition won’t be
comfortable. It’s common to suffer leg pain from the sudden growth
spurt, and you may be more emotional than you’re used to, but it
will only last a few months.”

Ayo turned to me, his eyes wide with fear.
“Will you still want me if I look older?”

I bit back the urge to laugh. I wanted to
explain that I was attracted to men, not boys, but this wasn’t the
time or the place. After meeting him, I’d learned to desire him
because of his sweetness and his innocence and his purity, but when
I thought about how he might look later — a dusting of stubble on
his cheeks, his shoulders a bit broader, his groin no longer
hairless — my pulse began to race. I pitched my voice low, hoping
to exclude Adele from my answer. “I’ll want you more than
ever.”

A pleased smile spread slowly across his face.
He might even have blushed a bit. It was something so new on him,
it caught me by surprise.

“Good,” Adele said. “So, we’ll remove the age
block. Now, let’s discuss triggers.”

“I want them all gone,” Ayo said.

She ducked her head in acknowledgment. “Yes,
but you have to understand what that will mean. Your response to
pain is barely rooted in your implant. It would take years of
response conditioning to undo it. I assume you wouldn’t want to go
through that, even if you could afford to pay for such an expensive
treatment.”

Ayo shuddered. “No.”

“So, he’ll still feel pain as pleasure?” I
asked.

“Yes.”

“Will I still be ashamed?” Ayo
asked.

Her brow crinkled in puzzlement, thinking.
“The implants can’t trigger such a specific emotion. I suspect what
you’re referring to is a combination of your conditioning, and your
treatment at the hands of your former owner.”

Ayo absorbed that for a moment, but he was
clearly unsatisfied with her answer. “So…” he said slowly, “you
don’t know if I’ll be ashamed or not?”

She glanced at me, but her eyes betrayed
nothing. “It’s complicated, and difficult to predict.”

“What about the orgasm trigger?” I
asked.

“We’ll remove the part that relies on the chip
— the block that actually stops his ejaculation — but after so many
years of depending on it, his body may still wait for the command.”
She said this without a hint of embarrassment, as if we were
discussing what kind of jacket Ayo might wear, or whether or not he
liked to dance. “My guess is that it will take a while for him to
learn to climax on his own. The difference will be, he’ll no longer
be blocked from remembering the word, so if nothing else, he’ll be
able to say it himself, thereby triggering his own
release.”

“And the other things? The inert state, and
the way he shuts down when he’s alone, and the command that sends
him to bed?” And Goddess knew how many other commands they’d put
into his head that I didn’t know about.

“Those can be removed.”

“Good,” I said. I breathed deep, suddenly
feeling lighter, as if some weight I hadn’t even been aware of had
been removed from my back. “Is that everything?” I asked
Ayo.

I fully expected him to say yes, but he
surprised me. “No,” he said, turning to Adele. “I want the suicide
block gone too.”

“What?” I sat forward on the couch in alarm.
“No! Why?”

“We said we wanted all programming gone, and
that’s part of it.”

“No,” Adele said, shaking her head. “I
wouldn’t advise that.”

“I wouldn’t either!” I hated siding with the
Dollhouse, but why would Ayo possibly want the suicide trigger
removed, unless he intended to kill himself? “Ayo, please. Why
would you want to die?”

“Right now, I don’t,” he said calmly. “But
that’s not the point.”

“Then please,” I said, taking his hands,
“please let them leave the block.”

“And what if you leave me, Misha? Or sell me
to somebody else?”

“That’ll never happen.”

“But if it did, I’d be stuck, just like I was
before.”

I had no idea what to say. I wanted this one
bit of programming in place, but it was his life. Hadn’t I been
telling Gideon and Adele that all along? Hadn’t I said it should
all be up to him? If I insisted on keeping it in place, I’d be no
better than Donato.

I sighed, feeling utterly defeated.

“Good,” Adele said. “It’s settled.” She turned
to the man at the door. “Take the boy. Get him ready for the
procedure. Tell the surgeon I’ll be there shortly to give him his
instructions.”

It took everything I had to let go of Ayo’s
hand. Some part of me still feared this was nothing but a
trick.

When he was gone, Adele stood. “The procedure
will take a several hours, assuming there are no
complications.”

My head jerked up at that horrifying word.
“Complications?”

She smiled, this time with something close to
actual compassion. “Don’t worry. This is quite routine for us.
Chances of anything going wrong are negligible. He’ll be fine. But
until he’s ready to leave, you’re required to wait
here.”

I didn’t bother to argue. I also didn’t bother
to ask why I was being detained. If there were
complications
with Ayo’s procedure, chances were I’d be the next one under the
knife so they could erase any memory of our encounters. I figured I
should count myself lucky they hadn’t already stuck one of their
vile chips in my brain.

“I’ll have lunch brought up for
you.”

“And once the procedure is over, we can
leave?”

“You’ll be able to take him back to your room,
although it’s best if you don’t start your journey back to Davlova
until tomorrow.”

“Why is that?” I’d secretly been hoping to
leave in the middle of the night.

“He’ll barely be conscious. The sedatives are
quite strong.”

“Fine. We’ll wait a day.”

“Would you like me to arrange passage home for
the two of you as well?”

“No, thank you. It’s taken care
of.”

“Are you sure? It can be difficult to secure
space on a safe vessel. I’m happy to help.”