repeating the same thing that got you into trouble years ago,” I point out, realizing only after the words leave my mouth how offensive they are.
My master smiles at me. “Yes, and the flaws we have ourselves are often the most annoying in others. It is uncanny how much you remind me of myself at your age, and I promise that doesn’t make me any more likely to go easy on you. It was hard to separate the two at first. Hell, it was hard enough to keep from smacking the attitude off your face on a daily basis.”
I grin, almost in spite of myself. I really am that bad of a liar. “You have the training and expertise to punish or torture me in a thousand ways, and the only thing you’ve done is smack me around a little and beat me with a belt?”
“There was the cleaning thing, too,” he reminds me.
Ah, yes, that time he made me cry every day by working me to death. “That was creative.”
He shrugs. “Pretty standard, actually. Breaks a person down. Of course, I didn’t expect you to call me out on exactly what it was that I was doing to you, calling me inefficient and wasteful and spiteful.”
I shrug. I saw right through it, at the time. I hadn’t been telling him those things to make him stop, I was telling him those things to push him to hurt me, to break out of the cycle. I suppose it worked, just in a different way than I was expecting.
“You were bright enough to figure it out, and you called me on the exact thing I had called my family on years before. You and I think alike, too alike, and I’d rather not see my flaws reflected.”
“I wish I had been punished with a lucrative job and a loaded bank account,” I retort, daring to be offensive. I want to push him again, to see if he’ll turn on me again. He’s letting me in, but is it just a part of a bigger plan?
“I shouldn’t have been so cruel. But again, old habits.”
I nod. He’s not apologizing, but he’s not making excuses either. I feel the same way about how I treated him. “So, what now? Why tell me now; what does it change?”
“I can’t stand hurting you when you don’t have all the information,” he shrugs. “Now, I keep you up to date on what I’m doing. Everything. You deserve that much. You can help me more now that you know everything. You know why I’m so careful, and you know what the stakes are. The full stakes. You can help me play the part in public. No more secrets, no more lies. I want to work with you on this. I might not have intended to buy you, but now that I’ve seen a hint of what you’re capable of, I need you.”
It sounds like he’s offering me the opportunity to be equals, but I know better. I know that anyone who thinks slavery is okay and who can justify beating another person repeatedly doesn’t want to be equals.
“What if I say no?” I challenge.
He frowns. “That is, of course, your decision. But I will say that I’ll start looking for another slave. The slaves I worked with before, the ones I purchased for research… they were considered tainted, corrupted by my interference. They were put down.”
“They were murdered?” I ask, not wanting to believe it.
“Euthanized,” Cash replies, his face blank. “You can’t murder a slave.”
No, not equals. I look at him in horror. The occasional abuse was bad enough; how can he sit here and casually threaten to have me killed in the interest of his research?
“I’d try to keep you safe, Sascha,” he promises. “I like you; I think you have a lot of potential. But this is a dangerous business. You need to be aware of the risks.”
“You didn’t give me a choice to be involved!” I snap.
“No, I didn’t,” he agrees.
I don’t understand how he can be so calm and reserved. He’s just told me these terrible secrets; what’s more, he’s told me they could lead to my death. I’m interested in the research, but is it worth the price?
“Can I think about it?” I ask, studying his face. It’s so much to process; I
My master smiles at me. “Yes, and the flaws we have ourselves are often the most annoying in others. It is uncanny how much you remind me of myself at your age, and I promise that doesn’t make me any more likely to go easy on you. It was hard to separate the two at first. Hell, it was hard enough to keep from smacking the attitude off your face on a daily basis.”
I grin, almost in spite of myself. I really am that bad of a liar. “You have the training and expertise to punish or torture me in a thousand ways, and the only thing you’ve done is smack me around a little and beat me with a belt?”
“There was the cleaning thing, too,” he reminds me.
Ah, yes, that time he made me cry every day by working me to death. “That was creative.”
He shrugs. “Pretty standard, actually. Breaks a person down. Of course, I didn’t expect you to call me out on exactly what it was that I was doing to you, calling me inefficient and wasteful and spiteful.”
I shrug. I saw right through it, at the time. I hadn’t been telling him those things to make him stop, I was telling him those things to push him to hurt me, to break out of the cycle. I suppose it worked, just in a different way than I was expecting.
“You were bright enough to figure it out, and you called me on the exact thing I had called my family on years before. You and I think alike, too alike, and I’d rather not see my flaws reflected.”
“I wish I had been punished with a lucrative job and a loaded bank account,” I retort, daring to be offensive. I want to push him again, to see if he’ll turn on me again. He’s letting me in, but is it just a part of a bigger plan?
“I shouldn’t have been so cruel. But again, old habits.”
I nod. He’s not apologizing, but he’s not making excuses either. I feel the same way about how I treated him. “So, what now? Why tell me now; what does it change?”
“I can’t stand hurting you when you don’t have all the information,” he shrugs. “Now, I keep you up to date on what I’m doing. Everything. You deserve that much. You can help me more now that you know everything. You know why I’m so careful, and you know what the stakes are. The full stakes. You can help me play the part in public. No more secrets, no more lies. I want to work with you on this. I might not have intended to buy you, but now that I’ve seen a hint of what you’re capable of, I need you.”
It sounds like he’s offering me the opportunity to be equals, but I know better. I know that anyone who thinks slavery is okay and who can justify beating another person repeatedly doesn’t want to be equals.
“What if I say no?” I challenge.
He frowns. “That is, of course, your decision. But I will say that I’ll start looking for another slave. The slaves I worked with before, the ones I purchased for research… they were considered tainted, corrupted by my interference. They were put down.”
“They were murdered?” I ask, not wanting to believe it.
“Euthanized,” Cash replies, his face blank. “You can’t murder a slave.”
No, not equals. I look at him in horror. The occasional abuse was bad enough; how can he sit here and casually threaten to have me killed in the interest of his research?
“I’d try to keep you safe, Sascha,” he promises. “I like you; I think you have a lot of potential. But this is a dangerous business. You need to be aware of the risks.”
“You didn’t give me a choice to be involved!” I snap.
“No, I didn’t,” he agrees.
I don’t understand how he can be so calm and reserved. He’s just told me these terrible secrets; what’s more, he’s told me they could lead to my death. I’m interested in the research, but is it worth the price?
“Can I think about it?” I ask, studying his face. It’s so much to process; I
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