Read Online A Superior Slave (Ganymede Quartet Book 0.5) by Darrah Glass - Free Book Online
Authors: Darrah Glass
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behavior.
“That’s the auction hall,” Mr. Jacob noted, pointing out the window at a substantial building with a set of massive, green-painted doors. “We’ll be going in through the back today, but when you leave, it will be through those doors.” This information had the effect of subduing them all. Somehow, seeing those green doors made it seem that much more real, that much more serious.
The omnibus turned the corner, then into the alley, and they pulled to a stop behind the wagons and omnibuses for the disembarking Orpheus and Perseus boys.
“Can we get a look at them, Mr. J?” Terry asked hopefully. “Check out our competition?”
“You have no competition,” Mr. Jacob said, rather predictably. “No, we’ll wait till they’ve gone inside.”
They all jostled for position and pressed their faces against the windows, doing their best to get a good look at the offerings from the other Houses. The Orpheus boys wore the same sort of faded and patched garments that Ganymede boys did, though theirs were a darker blue. The Perseus boys were in faded green and, as the Ganymede boys watched, they were hustled inside the building by their minders. Martin did not have a chance to evaluate the Perseus boys, but there were several fellows amongst the Orpheus offerings whom he judged very handsome, even by Ganymede standards.
Mr. Jacob waited until the Orpheus boys went inside, and then he let them out into the alley, and Mr. Elliott did the same with the Standard boys. The alley smelled of urine and the pavement was wet underfoot, although it did not appear to have rained recently. It was, all in all, not a place Martin cared to linger. Mr. Jacob signed some paperwork for a representative of the auction hall who met them at the door, and they made their way down a dimly-lit corridor to a door with a frosted glass panel with GANYMEDE painted in gilt-limned black letters.
“Inside, please,” Mr. Jacob said, ushering them through. “Don’t dawdle, boys.”
They entered a room that seemed to be part office, part kitchen. There were a dozen unfamiliar gentlemen waiting for them there, all very stylishly dressed, and all wearing critical expressions. The room smelled of coffee and cigarettes and warring colognes.
“So this is the group, then, Jacob?” asked a frowning blond fellow. “Not what I expected, based on their photographs.”
“I can’t imagine what you expected, Mr. Paulsen,” Mr. Jacob said huffily. “They’re better than the photographs.” He turned to the boys and said, “These gentlemen are Ganymede’s salesmen. These are the men who will be helping you find the best possible homes. You’ll need to listen to them and do as they say, understood?” He cocked his head to the side and looked at them expectantly. “Understood?”
“Yes, Mr. J,” they all said, more or less in unison. Martin was wary of these glowering dandies and didn’t want to trust them with something as important as his future.
“Which one is top boy again?” asked Mr. Paulsen, taking in the whole group with a brisk sweep of his hand. “Which is our moneymaker?”
Mr. Jacob frowned at this, but he said, “Martin, come forward,” and Martin did, doing his best not to seem sulky or defiant.
Martin smiled at Mr. Paulsen and bowed his head. “At your service, Sir.”
Mr. Paulsen stepped forward and peered at his face. “ You’re top boy?”
Taken aback, Martin blinked, startled. “Th-that’s what I’m told, Sir.”
Mr. Paulsen turned to Mr. Jacob. “Well, he’s certainly good-looking, but he can’t possibly wear those glasses in the showroom. Can he see without them?” He turned to Martin. “Can you see without them?”
“I can see up close, Sir.”
“Take them off.” Mr. Paulsen asked Martin to describe people in the room until he was satisfied that Martin could see well enough without his glasses to manage during the viewing in the morning.
“It does say in the catalog that he requires
“That’s the auction hall,” Mr. Jacob noted, pointing out the window at a substantial building with a set of massive, green-painted doors. “We’ll be going in through the back today, but when you leave, it will be through those doors.” This information had the effect of subduing them all. Somehow, seeing those green doors made it seem that much more real, that much more serious.
The omnibus turned the corner, then into the alley, and they pulled to a stop behind the wagons and omnibuses for the disembarking Orpheus and Perseus boys.
“Can we get a look at them, Mr. J?” Terry asked hopefully. “Check out our competition?”
“You have no competition,” Mr. Jacob said, rather predictably. “No, we’ll wait till they’ve gone inside.”
They all jostled for position and pressed their faces against the windows, doing their best to get a good look at the offerings from the other Houses. The Orpheus boys wore the same sort of faded and patched garments that Ganymede boys did, though theirs were a darker blue. The Perseus boys were in faded green and, as the Ganymede boys watched, they were hustled inside the building by their minders. Martin did not have a chance to evaluate the Perseus boys, but there were several fellows amongst the Orpheus offerings whom he judged very handsome, even by Ganymede standards.
Mr. Jacob waited until the Orpheus boys went inside, and then he let them out into the alley, and Mr. Elliott did the same with the Standard boys. The alley smelled of urine and the pavement was wet underfoot, although it did not appear to have rained recently. It was, all in all, not a place Martin cared to linger. Mr. Jacob signed some paperwork for a representative of the auction hall who met them at the door, and they made their way down a dimly-lit corridor to a door with a frosted glass panel with GANYMEDE painted in gilt-limned black letters.
“Inside, please,” Mr. Jacob said, ushering them through. “Don’t dawdle, boys.”
They entered a room that seemed to be part office, part kitchen. There were a dozen unfamiliar gentlemen waiting for them there, all very stylishly dressed, and all wearing critical expressions. The room smelled of coffee and cigarettes and warring colognes.
“So this is the group, then, Jacob?” asked a frowning blond fellow. “Not what I expected, based on their photographs.”
“I can’t imagine what you expected, Mr. Paulsen,” Mr. Jacob said huffily. “They’re better than the photographs.” He turned to the boys and said, “These gentlemen are Ganymede’s salesmen. These are the men who will be helping you find the best possible homes. You’ll need to listen to them and do as they say, understood?” He cocked his head to the side and looked at them expectantly. “Understood?”
“Yes, Mr. J,” they all said, more or less in unison. Martin was wary of these glowering dandies and didn’t want to trust them with something as important as his future.
“Which one is top boy again?” asked Mr. Paulsen, taking in the whole group with a brisk sweep of his hand. “Which is our moneymaker?”
Mr. Jacob frowned at this, but he said, “Martin, come forward,” and Martin did, doing his best not to seem sulky or defiant.
Martin smiled at Mr. Paulsen and bowed his head. “At your service, Sir.”
Mr. Paulsen stepped forward and peered at his face. “ You’re top boy?”
Taken aback, Martin blinked, startled. “Th-that’s what I’m told, Sir.”
Mr. Paulsen turned to Mr. Jacob. “Well, he’s certainly good-looking, but he can’t possibly wear those glasses in the showroom. Can he see without them?” He turned to Martin. “Can you see without them?”
“I can see up close, Sir.”
“Take them off.” Mr. Paulsen asked Martin to describe people in the room until he was satisfied that Martin could see well enough without his glasses to manage during the viewing in the morning.
“It does say in the catalog that he requires
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