Sedition (15 page)

“Sascha, you really shouldn’t be saying those kinds of things to her,” he says, feebly.

My jaw drops.

“Look, I know you’ve had some pretty tough times, but that doesn’t mean you should be talking about things like that.” He can’t even look at me as he says it. It’s like he’s reciting lines from a play he doesn’t even particularly like. “Lisa’s not from a world like that, and Bella shouldn’t be—”

“Bella was nowhere around!” I snap. “And your
wife
didn’t even bother to let me take anything off the tablet, and there are plenty of things on there that a child shouldn’t see, which is aside from the fact that it’s my goddamned tablet in the first place!”

“She does need one,” Abriel changed the subject. “I mean, at least when she goes to school. All the other kids will have one, and we want her to stay competitive.”

I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I’m silent, in shock.

“I mean, really, Sascha, what do
you
use it for?” Abriel asks. “The money I spent on you could have bought her a tablet—do you think that maybe you could let it go?”

Let it go. Let go the source of stimulation in my life, something that my master had given me, something I enjoyed. I wish I had left it with Cash. “Sure,” I say, numb.

“Thanks, big brother,” he smiles at me, and for a second, he’s Bri-Bri again, my little brother asking me for an extra cookie at snack time.

But he’s not. He’s my master now, and he has a wife, and she’s mean to me. And it’s being glossed over.

“Abriel, you don’t know what it’s like here when you’re not home,” I mumble, feeling like a small child confessing that mommy beats him. “It’s Lisa, she’s—”

“I know.” Abriel goes quiet for a moment. “I know. She’s told me how she wants things to be tighter, more disciplined, for there to be… clearer boundaries, as she puts it.”

I stare at him silently, waiting.

“I’ll talk to her about it, Sascha,” he promises, trying to smile.

“Talk to her, hell, Abriel, she fucking hit me! She locked me up and starved me!” I snap, the sting of betrayal far more painful than any slap from his rotten wife. “She’s threatened to do worse—to have me whipped, to sell me!”

“I won’t let her sell you, Sascha.”

It’s what he doesn’t say that frightens me. Of the things I listed, that’s the only one that he contested? I look down, trying my best not to burst into tears on the spot. I may have changed over the years, but Abriel changed more. I don’t recognize him anymore. Where is the boy who never hurt anyone, who did the right thing pretty much all the time, while I was off being a teenage rebel? How could things have changed so quickly?

“Sascha, are you okay?”

I nod, even though I’m far from okay. As a slave, I’ve learned to identify threats, and all my instincts are screaming at me, telling me that my brother is a threat. My general reluctance to believe it makes it no less true.

“I’ll talk to her. It’ll take some adjusting for everyone, but I really think this can work out. There can be some compromises from everyone,” Abriel smiles as he says it. I wonder if he believes it. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

I nod again, even though I’m not safe here. “Can I at least have the tablet back so I can clear it off for Bella?” I ask, a last-ditch effort. “There’s just too much adult stuff on there, and a lot of it is password-protected and everything, but I’d hate to be responsible if she gets into it. She’s my family, right? I’ve got to protect her.”

“Of course,” Abriel says, smiling again like nothing is wrong. “I’ll go get it now. Don’t mention it to Lisa—just give it back to me tomorrow night, okay?”

I force a smile. It’s not just me who has to lie to her, it’s him. The difference is he could leave if he wanted to. “Sure thing.”

I lie in bed that night and pity myself. But I only give myself this luxury for a few minutes, because I have other plans. A power-hungry suburban housewife isn’t going to be my final demise. I plan my moves carefully, like I’ve done for years, and if my safety wasn’t at stake, I would enjoy myself. With my tablet back in my hands for a few hours, I can put the next step of my plan into place, and I do so quickly, breaking into my brother’s network with almost no effort. He never was very good at security, and it seems Lisa isn’t much better. But it’s Abriel’s data I’m interested in.

I work my way in, arranging and rearranging, sending messages and receiving them, making purchases and allowances and finally, when it’s all over, I clear off any trace that I was ever there. Someone good would have known, someone like Cashiel, but this isn’t his network, it’s Abriel’s, and he has no inclination toward protecting his own privacy. Lisa probably just assumes that a slave would be too stupid to attempt something like this, just like she didn’t even bother to look through any of the information on my tablet.

I arrange for a train ticket two days out, as well as a slave allowance that indicates that I am travelling on “business” for my master. For Abriel. As far as anyone knows, I’m on a legitimate trip, so if my SID gets searched when it’s noticed that I don’t have a wristband, I’ll be covered. The confirmation messages will go to an address I’ve set up with automated responses that will verify my travel. Abriel will know nothing of it until he discovers that I’m missing, and by then, I should already be on my way. Reporting me as missing would be a challenge, and even if he does, or if Lisa does, the confirmed message would make it look more like an error than what it is, a runaway attempt. I’m buying myself time and distance, and I’m banking on the hope that Abriel won’t be overly aggressive in hunting me down.

The waiting is painful, and I swear Lisa is suspicious of me. Either that, or she’s pissed that my brother talked to her, because she’s started locking me in my room all day and forgetting to let me out for lunch. Fine. I make sure to eat a lot at breakfast and dinner, when Abriel is there to protect me, and I use the time alone to review my plans. Let her clean her own toilets and weed her own flower garden.

Finally, it’s the day I’m supposed to leave. As much as I wanted to leave days ago, I know that today, Abriel is at work and Lisa is taking Bella to back-to-back enrichment classes, followed by a play, where Abriel will meet them. I will have a good eight hours to myself, in which I can make my escape.

“In your room, slave,” Lisa mutters, as she’s getting Bella ready.

I comply, hating her as she locks the door behind me. “Mistress, what if I need to use the bathroom?” I complain, making sure to sound pathetic. I don’t need to try very hard. I’m starting to whimper when I speak to her anyway, years of training doing their job to enhance the fear.

“Shut up about it,” she orders. “You just went, and since you’ll be missing dinner tonight, you should be fine until morning. If my husband asks, you had a sandwich and a lovely night alone doing whatever it is that useless slaves do.”

“Yes, mistress,” I mumble, trying to sound contrite. She has no idea what a valuable piece of information she’s just given me. Nobody will miss me until morning.

I hear the sound of my brother and his family walking out, and the security alarm activating as they close the door. When I hear the hov-car start and drive away, it’s my cue. I move quickly, pulling the key out from under my mattress. Stealing it wasn’t difficult. Lisa obviously didn’t think it would occur to me to steal it in the middle of dinner last night, and it clearly never occurred to her that her underwear drawer would be the most obvious place to keep it, even though she’s made me put away her laundry before. There is an upside to being treated like a stupid slave. I unlock the door to my bedroom, let myself out, and then lock the door again from the outside. I even return the key to where I found it.

Next, I go to my tablet and work my way into the security system again. It was simple the other night, it’s a breeze today. I set it to disarm temporarily and rearm in ten minutes. Long enough for me to clear out any trace of my actions. I clear off the history of the tablet, first, wiping it down to just the most basic operating structure. No trace of me or Cash, no trace that it had ever been owned before, because of course, Cash installed some self-destructing software on it. I am sad that I have to leave it behind, but it would be another clue of my departure, and it would be a red flag for a slave to travel with something so expensive. I place it back in the drawer where I found it, and I give the house one last, bitter look.

My heart still races as I open the door, because if this was some movie I was watching, there would be tense music and then the alarm would sound, and I’d be caught.

I step out and begin to walk, slow and confident, as though I’m doing what I’m supposed to. This is the hardest part. I want to hide, to run as fast as I can, but anything like that would make me look suspicious. I have to keep looking like I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. Hiding in plain sight.

It takes me two hours to get to the train station. I hate small towns. Even where Abriel and I grew up, the train station was only a fifteen minute walk. Abriel and Lisa live so far from it that it’s almost not an option; it probably wouldn’t be an option for either of them. But I get there early, and I stroll up to the ticket counter confidently, giving the attendant my SID number and reference number, which I’ve written on a piece of paper as if I need help remembering it. Act stupid, look convincing. Just a good slave, on business for his master. Not plotting anything.

“Traveling alone, eh boy?” the attendant asks.

I think he’s just trying to make conversation; he looks bored, but the threat of being caught makes my throat catch. “Yes, sir?” I answer, wishing it didn’t sound like so much of a question. “I’m not in trouble, am I sir? My master said I would be okay?” I hope my act works.

It does.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, no law against it,” the attendant rolls his eyes. “Just be careful though, all right? A slave can get hurt out by himself.”

“Yes, sir,” I mumble, the blush on my face fitting in with the act.

I take a seat and wait for the train. My mind is filled with visions of armed officers carting me away, or Lisa storming in and beating me and dragging me home. I panic when strangers look at me, expecting them to know, somehow, but they don’t. They just give me a generic smile, like you give to people, even slaves, and they continue walking. It’s only in my head that I have a neon sign alerting everyone to my runaway status.

My trip is equally uneventful. My stomach is sick and my heart is racing at the fact that I’ve just run away in broad daylight, but nothing happens. Why would it? Runaways are almost unheard of. Slaves don’t have anywhere to run to. Most slaves, anyway. By the time the train reaches my destination, I know that Abriel and his family will have already arrived at home, but still, they won’t be looking for me for hours, not until morning. Abriel might want to talk to me, but Lisa will make sure that he’s prevented from doing so, like she’s been doing since he brought me home. Odd that I can count on her for that.

The walk when I get off the train is worse, the fear that I will be stopped and questioned or apprehended at any moment eating away at me. In the daytime, I was more confident, now that it’s dark, I’m irrationally worried. I’m terrified I will get lost, despite having looked at the maps a hundred times. The cold weather doesn’t help, and the fact that I’m not well-dressed for it makes me wonder how I think I can pull this off. The train ride was long, and it’s now the middle of the night, or maybe the middle of the morning. I can’t tell. All I know is it is not the time to be out.

None of that matters, though, because I make it, finally. I’m standing on the steps of my final destination.

I knock on the door.

Nothing.

I hadn’t expected this. I feel the tears welling, falling down my face as I knock again, more frantic this time, feeling everything collapse around me. Nobody will come, and I’ll stand here in the dark forever, and maybe the neighbors will hear, despite how far away they are, and some authorities will come for me, and all of this will be for nothing. I can’t escape the despair, just like I can’t stop pounding on the door.

And then the door opens, and I start to sob in relief.

“Sascha?”

I stumble over the step in the doorway and fall into Cash’s arms. I don’t know what happens from here, but I feel safe the moment I see his face.

“Sascha, what the hell?” he asks, pushing me away and holding me at arm’s length.

I keep sobbing. “I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t sit there and let her hurt me and let him treat me like a slave, because he’s my fucking brother, not my master,
you’re
my master, and she took everything and even the kid was a bitch!” I realize I’m not making any sense, but I don’t care. “Everything was supposed to be okay, but it was awful, and I couldn’t live there, couldn’t live with myself, and I had to get away, and this is the only place to go! I didn’t want to go!”

“Come inside, then,” Cash replies, having to physically move me out of the way to shut the door.

I want to cling to him, but I don’t. He’s never liked me being clingy, so I stand there sobbing instead. I’ve managed to stay strong at Abriel’s, but now that I’m here, I can break down.

“I take it your brother’s house didn’t work out?” he says, finally.

I shake my head, unable to form words. A moment ago, I was babbling; now, it’s like all the air has disappeared out of the room. Speaking is too hard. Haven’t I done enough?

“So, did he send you back here, or are you a runaway?” his voice has that logical, detached vibe to it, and while I usually find that comforting, right now it’s terrifying, threatening. I am a runaway, and if he sounds so cold about it, does it mean he disapproves?

Did I make the wrong decision?

He studies me. “Runaway, I’m guessing?”

Thank god he’s answered his own question. I nod, feeling stupid and miserable. I still can’t make words happen, but I can nod, and I can see the irritation and anger that crosses his face when I do.

“For fuck’s sake, Sascha.”

“Don’t send me back, Cash, please, please don’t send me back!” By all means, it’s what he should do. Harboring a runaway slave is a pretty serious offense, and a slave who runs away from his own well-intentioned family must be the worst thing ever.