Date: Mon, 21 Feb 2011 17:21:17 +0000
From: mandijerri@gmail.com
Subject: The Gift of the Second Prime Chapter Two: the Gift of the lost boy

So here it is, chapter two. This one introduces the second of the three
characters who form the Second Prime. Very different from Traes in the
first chapter.

Once again, the characters are not speaking English so word order and the
words used will appear strange at times. This is important, though, for the
flow of the story. Also, this character is the youngest of the three and is
more 'street' than the others. The language he uses is already distinctly
different from those of his elders and peers. Again, this is the point, he
needs the tribal identity that using a 'closed' language can provide. If I
could write lyrics I'd have him rapping as well!

There is a little more sex in this one, but watch out, some of it might be
straight!

Hope you enjoy. Email me any comments. In particular I need to know that
the culture of Tare du Maretch is coming together as something real rather
than feeling like something constructed to help the narrative move
forward. It needs to feel like it has been around for a thousand years.

Does it?

How are the characters standing up, are they distinct voices? And
generally, what do you think now that there are two chapters?

Thanks

Mandijerri



The Gift of the Second Prime Chapter Two: The Gift of the lost boy

"And then what?" Janah called.

He turned and whirled around, stalking back into the room where his father
sat at his desk.

"Then what?" He demanded.

His father sighed and looked up from screen he was reading.

"I have work to do here, Janah. And at the moment that is more important
than listening to another one of your tantrums."

"This." Janah said, enunciating each word slowly and carefully. "Is not a
tantrum! You have just threatened to stop my studies." He added. "How do
you think I should be reacting at this moment?"

"I think you should be investing some time into the studies that I am
paying for!" His father said, swivelling the screen around. "I have your
grades here, they are worse this duray than last. Why is this?"

"Half the lecturers walked out after the Ordren scandal." Janah said. "The
work is harder now than it ever was. Everyone's grades are down, have you
not looked at the averages?"

"Your grades are two primes below the averages." His father said, turning
the screen back to himself. "We agreed, you and I, that you would track one
unit on either side of average..."

"It is one duray!" Janah said, turning to leave again. "At least give me
time to pull them back next duray."

"Why?" His father asked, hitting the button on his desk that sealed the
office from the rest of the house. "Why should I give you another chance?"

"Because it is just!" Janah shouted, leaning over the desk and glaring down
at his father.

"And running up all this debt is also just?" His father asked. "Going out
every night with your friends and spending the creds that your mother and I
have worked all our lives for on sex and narcomeds?"

"I only spend my allowance."

"No, Janah. You have spent all of your allowance, and have already started
on the creds for next year."

"That's not true!"

"It is true."

"Where's mum, she would tell you..."

"Would she? Or would she be telling you that she has had enough as well?"

"So what do you want?"

"A return." His father said. "We invest everything into you Janah, we
deserve a return on that. Don't make me call in the investment."

"Hah!" Janah laughed. "And then what would you do, beat me? Like you have
enough stink to set on me anymore!"

He turned and bashed his fist into the panel next to the door. It slid
open.

"I'll be back late tonight!" He laughed turning to look at his
father. "Don't wait up."

He stalked though the living space, grabbed his skinbag and left the
dom. He would not be spoken to like a child anymore! Who did his father
think he was? Janah was a under a year away from his first majority! He did
not need his parents to stalk his every move anymore!

"Slep!" He thought into his Slice.

"Jahn." His friend laughed, his voice pricking at the edge of Janah's
senses.

"Seriously need out!" Janah said. "Where you sitting?"

"Shandrax." Slep replied. "Oka is here too. We were thinking of hitting
Shelva later. Want to third?"

"On it." Janah said. "Wait for me."

He terminated the connection before Slep could say anything else. He needed
time to calm, time to let his father's words slip away from him. They were
still stabbing him now and he didn't want to pull his friends into an
apathy just because he was stinking! Besides, he wanted to make a move with
Oka. The girl had some meat, and he wanted to taste it! There was no way
she would even sponge him in a mood like this!

He stomped through the apartment foyer and into the street without
acknowledging anyone. They were all part of his parents. The whole spire
was! Now he just needed out. Needed his own air! He had seen a req on one
of the nets, asking for students like him to go work and study at Midpoint
Province. If he taught as well, he could earn as much as his
allowance. Have his own life. Squats were thrown in and fuel. There would
be more creds than he had now.

He would show his father! A return on his investment! What about the
investment Janah had put into this life. That was worth what? Jax to his
father, that was for sure. Jax to the lot of them!

The Shandrax was a dive they met in when they had no sparks to go to any
place better. Kala, the owner, let them keep tabs and, as long as at least
half was paid every month, he didn't get set on them. Janah had just paid
him, so his tab was good and man, he needed some of the dust Kala was
serving at the moment.

Needed some now!

The Dive was a distance from the Spire his parents had chosen for the
family dom, of course it was! Anka Vare, the district around him, was where
all the better heeled administrators, like his parents, had their doms. A
dive wouldn't fit here! No, he had to go across town a ways, over to Anka
Faril. A much cosier district, and much more conducive to the needs of
Janah and his friends.

Anka Vare was bright streets and clean alleys. Refuse collected often and
streets cleaned each night. Shops were clean and full of wholesome
produce. Wholesome produce for a wholesome, dedicated and happy
population. Anka Faril was dark, even when the street lights were
on. Refuse, it was part of the charm, and you didn't go into an alley
without your shields on. Even if you lived there!

Anka Ghar, home to most of the meat markets in Troubian, was only across
the Sortha Ghar from Anka Faril. It didn't take much to float a body or two
across that water in the dead of night. And once in Anka Ghar, a body
wouldn't be seen again until it appeared in neat wrapped containers on the
meat counters of Anka Vare the next day.

Janah could imagine pushing his father into the sluggish and brackish
waters of the Ghar, but he didn't want to take that journey himself tonight
- or any night for that matter.

He laughed then. What would he have to spin to get his father next to the
Sortha? Now there was an outcome awaiting some mads! He could ponder that
one tomorrow, when he got back to the dom.

His angry musings had taken him across the Vare, the large park that filled
the centre of this district. Now he was walking past stores and boutiques,
neat and sanitised bars and clubs. None of them could be called a Dive,
although many of them co-opted the word. Dives sold a range of products to
its clientele, and no questions were asked. If you had a tab or the right
creds, you got what you wanted. These Dives, bright and fluffy as they
were, sold only legals. All taxed and managed by the Palaces.

He would work in one, maybe, but never drink here and never take someone
like Oka to one of them! She needed a Dive! It made her shine like she was
gifted! And he so loved her when she was shining! She had dyed her skin red
like a Warrior. On them it looked like their skin was old leather. Oka made
it look like the finest doush! And soft, her skin was the softest! He loved
to stroke her arms, thighs...

She often let him stroke her anywhere he wanted, as long as she had
returns. He liked that about her as well. This woman would never be like
his mother! She was more regal than the P.O.P.! Oka, Oka would never be
allowed into the Palace of Sunrises! And, once he had been with her, nor
would he!

The Jada Gorn, one of the major thoroughfares into the heart of the city
(it split to run around the Palaces in two great circles), was the border
between Anka Vare and Anka Sortha. He only needed to cross across a corner
of Anka Sortha, but he still had to get across the Jada Gorn. Easier said
than done!

Every kilometre or so there was a sub that would take you under the road,
but the nearest sub was too far north for him. He would take the Tense
Road, he decided. He wandered down the dirty track that ran alongside the
Jada Gorn here. This was an access road for the services the road used, but
also gave access to the Signs. These great structures stretched across the
road, carrying information and guidance systems for the carts on the road
below, guiding them into the city and to their destinations.

They were steel frames, but stretched between them, giving the structures
their rigidity, were steel ropes. These were the Tense Road. He often
crossed the road using these ropes. Not legal, but a damn site more fun
than going up to the sub.  He came level with one of the steel towers then,
after a quick look that no-one was watching, slipped some hooks onto hands
and feet. A rope ran at a diagonal from the ground in the middle of two
steel struts up to a platform some five metres above him. He ran straight
at this rope, hooking it at the last moment with the hooks on his
hands. These allowed him to spin around the solid rope.

With each spin he would slip first one hand, then the next, further up the
rope, angling his body so the momentum of the spin aided his climb. The
trick was to hit the rope at the correct speed at the start of the
climb. That, plus the momentum of your body, gave you enough spin to get to
the platform. Not enough speed at the start and you would end up slipping
straight back down the rope. Too much and you might not be able to stop at
the top, which could see you spinning off the rope and straight back to the
ground below.

Not the best of life choices!

Once, he had hit the rope too fast and his feet had missed the hook point
on the platform above. He had flipped off the rope then, and it was only by
sheer luck that he had managed to hook one of his hands onto the rope
above. His soul was on fire that day!

The apathy around him urged him to try the trick again, but he knew that
road led to folly. Luck was a capricious lover. She had distracted him
once, he doubted she would do so again. Then he had still been pure. Oka
had shown him glories since then, and he doubted Luck would even glance at
his soiled body now.

On the fifteenth spin he concentrated all his mind onto the small platform
above. The first time he had hit this point he had almost pulled his left
knee from its socket! Now, now he knew he had to use the hook on his foot
to flow the spin he was in into a horizontal rather than off vertical
direction. He had to spin his body up and above the platform, releasing the
foot hook at the last moment and somersaulting (at least twice) before
landing back on the platform on steady feet.  Easier said than done, and
more often than not he managed the somersault but ended up crashing onto
the platform on his arse. The wind knocked out of him, but at least he was
safe. Tonight it worked as one act. His foot hooked the small hole in the
platform perfectly. Normally he missed this altogether and ended up using
his other foot to hook the rail that ran just above the platform.

His leg redirected the spin and, as he reached its apogee, he slipped his
foot out of the hook and brought his knees up to his chest. One, two, three
barrel rolls! Just a new personal record! And then legs down directing the
force of the spin back towards the platform. He landed close to the edge of
the platform, balanced dangerously on one leg, but alive!

He bowed to his unseen audience, accepting their applause, before he sat
down on the platform and caught his breath. The Tense Road was not for the
unfit and, despite what his father might believe about him, Janah was not a
slab! He put as much effort into his body as his father put creds into his
Slice. The Tense Road was the only work out he had had for a few weeks,
apart from one of the pleasure-ties down on the Jeda Larsha in Anka
Faril. And he wasn't even sure his time spent on that Jeda counted as
exercise at all, much too much sport!

He was only five metres above the Jada Gorn, but it always seemed much
higher. A breeze was blowing tonight, from the east and the warm air
funnelled past his face, making him warmer if anything rather than
cooler. Carts span their way along the Jada below him, guided by the Signs
like this one. In the day their dance along the road was mesmerising, at
night you couldn't see them at all. You could hear them though.

Motors whirring and swishing along the road beneath him, controlled by the
Flow, the Intelligence that managed all transportation in the city. He
breathed deep of the warm air, it tasted of tears and sweat, reminding him
of his parents and everything he was trying to escape tonight. Looking up
he searched for the glint of the guide lights on the top of the Sign along
the dual ropes he would use for the next part of his trek.

There! He saw them.

He reached down and took the hook off the platform and attached it back to
his foot, pulling the other foot-hook back into place as well. This meant
he had to stand with his heels only on the edge of the platform, but that
was part of the dance as well. He bent his knees and pulled his body into a
small ball, balancing perfectly still on the edge of the platform.

He exhaled slowly, then breathed in a deep lungful of air. With a spring he
pushed away from the platform, exhaling as he flew and arms swinging up
into an arc until they were stretched above his head. He passed through the
middle of the wires, then twisted his body as he reached the height of his
spring, hooking both hand-hooks onto the left wire as he came back down. He
span around the wire and eventually managed to hook his feet onto it as
well.

Not the most elegant of attachments, but at least he was attached, and for
a moment he let the hooks take his weight and he hung beneath the wire,
swaying slowly with the wind. There were two wires here and, in an effort
to stop people using the Tense Road, the P.O.P. had ordered current to be
passed through them. Now 25,000 volts ran through both cables. He was safe
though. The P.O.P. despite all her riches did not understand basic
electrical theory.

As long as you didn't touch both wires at once, there was no danger. At
least until you had to dismount!

So now, like the primordial ancestors of his distant past on The One World,
he moved, arm over arm, foot over foot, along the cable. Thirty metres to
another platform and the next pit stop.

This part of the Tense Road was easy. Attaching and detaching were the
dangerous points. The slow limb-over-limb gait you used to move across the
wire was, if anything, almost hypnotic.

Had his father ever lived like this? He doubted it! He had lived in Anka
Vare or one of the other more comfortable Anka all his pleasant
jeera-wrapped life. School, university, sportsman, administrator, manager
and now master of a whole cabal of administrators. A life such as that did
not deserve to be lived. It was nothing more than a transit on the Wheel of
Life. A chance to slip peacefully between axioms on the path to
enlightenment.  He shook his head and laughed out loud.

Janah was not religious, but when he was touched by the Muse of Galaxia, it
was always on the Tense Road. Maybe it was here, when your life swung
between two wires that would kill you given the chance. Maybe it was here
that you were truly one with the galaxy. In the moment before death you saw
the face of God. Maybe that was the only time you saw it or her or him.

Janah was edging along the wire feet first and now, between his legs, he
could see the pillar that supported the first part of the Sign above the
road. Just below it, where the wires passed on either side of it, he could
see the circular platform that was his next stop. He smiled as he watched
the pole. If he positioned his body right it looked like it came straight
out of his legs. A quill, a quill, but of enormous proportions, reaching
almost thirty metres into the sky!

He often imagined what Oka would look like sliding down that pole. How her
skin would shine and shimmer in the pale light from the Guide lights on the
pole. And she would laugh as she came down onto him. And he would feel the
energy rushing through his body. 25,000 volts of pure thrust, streaming
from his balls out up the quill and into her beautiful, beautiful, body.

He got the sweats just thinking of her and had to stop just before the pole
to collect his thoughts and regain some composure before he could perform
the next manoeuvre. It was a nice image though, and maybe tonight, maybe
tonight she would finally acquiesce and ride his quill for real?

It was worth the ponder, that was for sure.

The wire ran straight past the pole, with no insulation, so the trick to
the dismount, so to speak, was not to touch the pole or its platform while
you were still attached to the wire. Not good. He had never done that yet,
but many a charred body had been scraped off the Jada Gorn of a
morning. Convincing the P.O.P. that the electrification was working.

Hey, if it kept the P.O.P. happy, and thus kept him busy elsewhere, then
Janah and the other trekkers across the Tense Road were equally happy. One
or two lives a month was a small price to pay for the happiness of so many
more!

Still, making sure it was not his turn to pay the Tense Road toll, took all
of Janah's concentration. Carefully he unhooked both feet from the wire,
taking his full weight in his shoulders. The rope, while strong, was very
flexible, and this was the key to the dismount. He kept his body and legs
parallel with the wire, shoulders straining to support him, then he began
to sway. Body and legs falling down below him, then swinging straight back
to the level.

Again, and again. The rope began to swing up and down - and this was the
whole point in this manoeuvre. To swing the rope from side to side would
risk both ropes touching - and that would not be happy times! So, up and
down, wider and wider swings. When the rope was dipping him about a metre
below the platform around the pole, and swinging him up at least three
metres above it, he was ready.

There was no mastery to be had at this stage. No elegant dismount that
would cause the crowd to gasp and sigh at his athleticism. This was a fight
between wire, man, pole and gravity. The aim of the game was to make sure
that each element was balanced.

It was the only way you could survive.

At the top of the next swing he kicked out and felt his arms disengage from
the wire. He carried on upwards for a second, and then a pause at the top
of the swing. Below him the wire was already moving back down, but for a
moment he floated free. Free of Tare du Maretch, free of gravity itself. He
breathed in and then twisted in the air as he began his descent.

A rod, horizontal to the pole, had been placed some two metres above the
platform. It was this that he aimed to catch with the hooks on his
hands. He came down, the pole shimmered in the light of the guide lights,
and he hooked it, turning his downward motion into a spin that took him
around the rod three times before he was left hanging breathless by the
hooks.

When his motion had stopped, he unhooked first one hand, then the other,
fingers finally releasing the pole, he dropped onto the platform below. It
was wide and he lay on the cold metal catching his breath. The sub would
probably be faster than the Tense Road, but this route meant so much more
than a way to cross the Jada Gorn.

The trek along the Tense Road was an affirmation of life itself. A rite of
passage that re-affirmed your right to be human and free.

Not a slave like his mother and father to the corporation or government. He
was free to live! And there would even be a life here, on the other side of
the Jada Gorn, if he wanted it. He was not unattractive, and there were
always people looking for sex, looking to give good creds for the right
kind of sex. He knew girls that earned more creds in one night than he
received in allowance for a month!

And there was always a call for boys. OK, so the sex was harder, sharper,
but it paid. And, with the right daddy, he could earn his way to a life of
ease. Maybe he should look here rather than some backwater town at
Midpoint. At least Troubian was a mistress he knew. This city might have
its dark patches, but he knew them all, and knew where to hide.

He pulled himself to his feet and looked below the platform. A metre below
a thin metal gantry ran in one continuous strip from this pole to the next
pole in the middle of the Jada Gorn. It was maybe eight centimetres wide,
but that was wide enough. There were no hand holds and the temptation was
to cross the gantry on your arse, or on your belly. Only the artful walked
as if across a tight-rope from one pole to the next.

He had always prided himself on being an artist.

He climbed out over the low barrier that ran around the platform, grabbing
it with hands and then swinging his legs under the platform so they wrapped
around the pole. Not all the way around, it was about a metre and a half
thick, but around enough so that he had purchase.

As his legs slipped down the pole, so he swung himself forward and wrapped
arms around the pole as well. This slide, to the gantry, had to be timed
right. One false move and children would be off the reproductive future for
a long time hence!

The gantry came out of the pole and, as it approached, he twisted around
the pole so that the gantry would rise up between his legs. It came up
fast, and at the last minute he swung legs and arms off the pole and landed
feet on the gantry, one behind the other, falling forward so he pulled the
pole into a hug, using it to steady him.

A turn then and his back was to the pole. Below him he could see shapes
speeding beneath him, hear the sounds as the machines of transport sped on
their journeys. With a push, he was off. He liked to walk the gantry at
speed and, by the time he reached the middle pole, some twenty metres away,
he was running along its slick and polished surface. He only skidded to a
halt when he ran almost at full pelt into the next pole. Laughing as he
came to a halt.

Now a climb. Steps led the way up to the top of this pole. He only had to
climb forty or so metres. Above the electrified wires and high above the
Jada Gorn. Another small platform waited here and attached to this was
another, un-electrified, wire. This wire arced gently down to the a
platform about thirty metres below him on the next pole. The slope was
steep, and it was used like a zip wire.

He reached the platform in half an hour and hooked his hand-hooks onto the
wire. Without thinking he stepped off and let his arms take his weight
forward. Slowly at first, but gradually faster and faster, he slipped along
the wire. It ended abruptly, where it was tied into another wire that was
tied between the two legs of the next support.

The end of this run always caused him to flip around this end wire at least
once, and then a slow arm over arm crawl to one of the poles. Foot holds
were cast into the leg and he used these to bring him down to the edge of
the Jada Gorn. He was not completely in Anka Sortha, but rather on the edge
of a slip road that ran off the Jada Gorn into this district.

A thin sliver of dirt and gorse ran between the Jada Gorn and the slip
road. Both were still busy, were always busy, but the strip led to an open
scrub, and the scrub ran along the edge of the Jada Gorn for a ways before
it bumped into one of the canals that gave the Anka Sortha its name. From
the canal, the Sortha Desht, it was only a short step to a bridge.

He was crossing the bridge in no time, an hour and a half after he had
started out on the Tense Road. Fifteen minutes longer than if he had used a
sub to reach this point. Not bad, not bad at all!

There were people around him now. Frees, Ties and Tenures. All moving to a
different beat than him. All swaying to the beat of his parent's city. He
was looking for those that moved to the beat of its underbelly. There were
some here like him, but all of them were heading west. Across the many
Sortha until you reached the Sortha Jaex.

This Sortha ran under another great Jada, the Jada Crael. This Jada ran
north-south through the city like the Jada Gorn ran east-west. Again, there
were subs half a kilometre in either direction, or you could pay a ferryman
and take the trip through the Jaex tunnel, out of the Anka Sortha and into
the Anka Faril. He always paid the ferryman.

Nothing was said as he came down to the water's edge. A boat was waiting
and he swiped his Slice as he climbed on board. It was a small wooden
affair, with seats running along each side. You climbed over seats to get
into the ferry. There were five or six others on the boat, and when another
three had clambered aboard a whistle sounded and the ferry slipped its
moorings.

Like the transports on the great Jada above them, this transport was
automated as well. The automation here though was much more low
tech. Slaves, Ties, pulled the ropes at the other side of the tunnel that
in turn pulled the ferry through the water out of one Anka and into the
next. The journey was slow and cold out of the warmth of the wind.

"Snaefin?" A voice said into his ear.

"Diaxin or Marezanil?" Janah asked.

He didn't bother to look at the owner of the voice, and she probably
preferred he didn't either. Anonymity kept all these transactions secret,
cheap and below the tax Jabs.

"I have either." She whispered, her breath warm against his ear. "What's
your flavour? You seeking smooth euphoria or hard-sexed mania?"

"Always smooth." Janah smiled. "How much a tab?"

"Ten."

"Check man!" Janah laughed. "I can get a tab for seven by skipping this
ferry at the other side. Why should I cred you with ten?"

"It's all in the doush, man." She smiled, breathing an acrid sweet smoke
into his face. "My Diaxin is smoother than any buxom you looking at taking
tonight."

"I have a mighty smooth buxom in my sights." Janah smiled. "And she would
pay seven."

"Dealings rough, guy." She said. "I ply the ferry tonight because the Jabs
are on the streets forced tonight. You won't find anything less than ten
this side of the sun."

"Didn't note no Jabs in Sortha." Janah replied. "Why they should be in
Faril? No troubles there now?"

"It's the time." She laughed. "They go making misery for a night, keeps the
P.O.P. happy for another month."

"Truthsaying." Janah sighed. "Listen. I had an apathy tonight but lost it
on the Tense Road. I'll do you a deal. Cred me two for ten and one for
seven?"

"It's a tight one. I could get Second Prime ten for all of them!"

"That you could. But I'm feeling laughing in your breath. What is my buxom
going to say if I give her a tab for ten? Won't matter how euphoric your
drug is then!"

"Won't matter indeed!" She laughed. "Listen back at me, OK? I'm thinking I
like you. So I'll go two for ten one for eight. Take it?"

"Take it." Janah smiled.

He held out his hand and she passed her Slice over his. He agreed the rate
and she slipped the tablets into his other hand, slipping her hand down and
along his leg, squeezing his balls as she stood and passed onto another
customer.

"She should be happy with you and the tab, Joe. If not, come back for me,
I'll show you happy!"

"Might take it there too." Janah laughed.

And he had.

His first experience of the sex kind had been with a dealer. A woman had
approached him on the Tense Road. She had been waiting on the large
platform in the centre of the road, selling her wares to any that cared to
come by that way. Back then Janah and his pack had been into gelbars. Small
silver lozenges that slipped beneath your tongue and took your head
spinning. Lights became arcs of colour and voices slipped around the
auditory like some of the swings you flipped on the Tense Road.

He had been coming back just before the Sun one night. They had been raging
down by a warehouse that straddled a Sortha in Anka Ghar. An old meat
locker that was now the latest trend in Dives and Dance. It was a scene he
had done for a few years, but it was a kid thing and age taught you that
the Dance of Sex was more exciting that any Dace music gave you.

His first Sex Dance had been with that dealer on the platform above the
Jada Gorn. She had two gelbars left after a busy night's work. It was late
now and she needed to get rid of her last before she left for whatever the
day gave her. He had been cheeky and she had wanted some young flesh.

The gelbar she sold him gave him the kick and his body took over, living
out the reality of the fantasy he had played with alone for so long before
that. She was not meaty in the way Orca was meaty, but there was enough
meat to make the fantasy come real. The sex was fast, frantic and over
before either of them had come down from the trip.

He had never seen her again. Not that he looked. He had moved onto buxom
now. And the current buxom was waiting not far from this Ferry ride.

The sound of the Ties pulling the ferry filled his ears and moments later
the ferry came to a halt at the dock. Janah climbed out of the boat,
pushing the tabs into a pocket in the skinbag he had been wearing since the
Tense Road. The warm breeze stroked his face, as if it was pleased to have
found him again. He smiled as he joined the stream of people moving down
the road away from the Sortha.

Maybe he would grab a life on this side of the Sortha's after all. It would
certainly free him of his parents and the dour world they threatened to
pull him into.

"Jaeka shamba, man!" A voice called across the street.

It was not directed specifically to him, but rather to anyone who was
interested. A woman, buxom almost to wench stood on the side of the road,
naked apart from a huge wig and high red heels.

"You wanting this?" She called to the world. "Jaeka sen-marga. Jaeka
shamba!"

The language was Motetranj, the second language of Tare du Maretch. It was
heard occasionally in Troubian, but was mostly spoken in the western
provinces, leading around to Midpoint. Janah understood a little, but not
enough to have a conversation.

He had stopped and gandered some of these wenches in the past, but not
around here. Not safe and no guaranteeing that her daddy wasn't hiding
around the corner with some street-Jabs waiting to jump and sell a hapless
into Ties or for meat. No. He preferred his wench from Jeda Larsha. A long
narrow street almost a kilometre long that served nothing but food for
stomachs and wench for quills.

Many a time he, Slep and Carda had run that Jeda. That was before Oka of
course, before his passion had been sucked into her sketch, a place that
his quill would soon follow. Well that was the plan at least. She had to be
concord with that of course. But she would, and maybe after one of the tabs
she would let him sidle more than just the doush that was her skin.

Maybe.

This fantasy had been wrapping itself more and more tightly around his
balls and it was time he let it free.

Time indeed.

****

The Sun hit the tip of the Spire as he stumbled through the door of the
dom. It was early, or late he smiled. It all depended on perspective. The
plan was to wash quick, drop some Jade (to get some wakes) then get to
lectures just as the Jade kicked in. All planned all schemed and...

He stopped as he came into the living room. To Jabs were standing on either
side of the room, with a small thin man sat on the sofa between them.

"Ah." He said, standing up as Janah stumbled into the room. "Janah?" He
asked. "Janah Sedaer Coruselm?"

"Who's feeling the know?" Janah asked, trying to decide if it was better to
run back the way he had come, or head through the kitchen and out the exit
there.

"My name is Taeda Gheran Japuth." The man said. "I am Master of
Procurements for the Palace of Sunsets."

Back the way he had come. Janah decided, spinning and preparing for the
flight. He had only turned when the dart hit him in the back. He was on the
floor a second later, body still jerking as the neural tox immobilised him.

"Interesting." Taeda said coming over to stand over Janah. "They always try
to run. Never do they stop and bargain. So, Janah." He said, pushing his
toe into Janah's stomach. "I have some news for you and don't feign sleep!"
He laughed. "I know my tox, boy. That shot had enough to stop your limbs,
not your head. Stand him up!" He called to the Jabs, stepping back as they
hauled Janah to his feet.

He walked around Janah for a moment, then came and faced him.

"I have some news. Bad, I'm afraid. It would appear you have upset your
extremely hard working parents. They have tried to bargain with you and, I
would imagine, they have pleaded quite dearly as well. You choose not to
listen. Shame. You boys think you are invincible. Always you think life is
your right. This is Tare du Maretch, Janah. Your life belongs to the Prince
of Princes, and she has just called time."

He paused again and pulled out a tab. Data flowed across the screen and
Janah could feel it folding into his Slice.

"That is the fine print. You can read it later." Taeda smiled. "For now
know this, Janah Sedaer Coruselm. Your parents have sold you to the Palace
of Sunsets. As MAster of Procurements, it is my job to make sure you arrive
there safely. Your name now is Janah, nothing more and nothing less. If
someone better than you asks, and believe me when I say this, everyone is
better than you now! If anyone asks who you are, you will reply Janah, Tie
of the Palace of Sunsets."

He smiled then stepped aside.

"Strip him." He told the Jabs. "I have no need of his street clothes
now. He will be clothed as a Tie when we reach the Palace. Oh, Janah? Your
father said to tell you that he was calling in his investment. I do not
know what that means, but I assume you do!"

He laughed then as he walked back through the dom.

"When you have stripped him, clean him and bring him to the cart in the
basement." He walked out of Janah's view.

Janah was screaming!

His voice was silenced by the tox.

Janah was kicking out!

His limbs were held immobile by the tox.

Tie! How in Jax had this happened? How could his parents do this? He was
struggling against his captors as they stripped him like some animal, but
the tox allowed none of it. Instead his body limply complied as they pulled
pants away. Stripped off the skinbag he had been wearing against the light
morning rain.

He screamed his rage as they dragged him into the bathroom and forced him
into the stream of water. Cold or hot he did not know, all the nerves in
his skin were dead now, victim of the tox. And then tied, hands together
behind his back, feet together and wrapped up to knees. As if he could move
anyway!

One of the Jabs threw him over his shoulder, and that was that. He was
taken out of the dom. Out of his life.

His parents hadn't even had the courage to be there when he was gone. He
hoped the creds choked them!

Jax!

He was thrown roughly into a cart, covered against the rain. Taeda was
already seated and he positioned Janah on the seat opposite him, removing
ropes from hands and feet. He replaced the hand ropes with two metal cuffs
and attached two of the same to his ankles, before slipping a metal collar
around his neck.

"You should see your face!" Taeda laughed as he worked. "Beautiful, like a
doll. You will work well at the Palace, but where to place you? So much
needs doing there."

He sat back once the neck collar was in place, then slipped over onto the
chair next to Janah as the cart lurched slowly forward.

"First, your Slice." He said, lifting Janah's right hand.

The slice had been embedded there only a few months ago, the latest in body
interface technology. Taeda held a thin plastic machine over the Slice.

"Nice." He said. "Wasted now, of course. Still, better to use this one than
go through all the trouble of inserting another. This device disconnects
all but the basic functionality of the Slice. Now, when queried, it will
say you are Tied to the Palace. All your creds, all your data all gone
now." He smiled. "There." He said as he dropped Janah's hand. "All done."

He sat there in silence for a moment, then a change seemed to come over
him. With a flick of his wrist the windows on the carriage darkened and the
internal lights came up.

"Of course the main reason I come to greet all the new Ties." He said
slipping his arm around Janah's back and pulling him close to him. "Is that
I get to break them all in. And believe me, Janah, I am going to enjoy
breaking you in! It has been a long while since I have Tied one such as
you!"

He slipped his hand down Janah's chest, then ran it along his legs before
wrapping it around his quill and balls.

"Beautiful." He smiled.

Janah was screaming again, fighting this man away! He did not want this,
did not want to be here, but the tox kept him passive. Kept him senseless
next to this man.

"So," Taeda smiled, letting Janah go and standing up in the low cart. "Time
to work."

He pulled Janah into the middle of the seat, then clipped each arm cuff to
a lock on each wall. When he was happy the hands were locked, he slipped
Janah's body forward slightly, then clipped his foot cuffs to locks in the
ceiling of the cart.  "You won't be able to move for a few hours yet."
Taeda smiled, "But I like the drama of locking you into the cart. I like
the way you Ties look when you are totally in my control!"

He smiled again, then slipped a small tube from a pocket in the door of the
carriage.

"This is Farshan." He told Janah as he put some gloves on and squeezed some
of the gel onto his fingers. "Farshy, Fash, Jax the Fax. Many names, but
one purpose. Without the tox it will make every movement of mine inside you
one of sheer bliss. Sadly for you the tox blocks its effects. For me,
though, for me it will intensify the whole process by which I claim you!"

He laughed then and Janah could see, rather than feel, the man pushing the
gel into his backside. See his fingers move deeper into him.

"Later, when the tox has worn off a little, I might do this again. Then you
will see how much fun there is to be had!" He laughed to himself.

He dropped the gloves onto the floor, then pulled down his pants. He was
erect, and Janah had never seen a quill like it. Thick and longer than was
natural. He screamed again and tried to struggle, but his body refused to
obey him.

"I know what you're thinking." Taeda smiled. "This is not the way a man of
my stature should look, but I had some work done. I like to see the look in
Tie's faces when I push this into them for the first time. Unfortunately,
you will look the same, but I can imagine! And later, when the tox is gone,
perhaps I will see it for real!"

He laughed and leaned forward, pushing his engorged quill up against
Janah. Janah winced as Taeda pushed it into him, but he could feel
nothing. Taeda, though, he was transported almost instantly into the throes
of ecstasy. Hands grabbed Janah's hips as he pulled himself into and out of
his hole. Again and again.

Janah just screamed.

What dix was this? It had to be a dix, life did not suddenly go from normal
to manic. You didn't go from free to tied in as little time as it took to
say it! He tried to track back through the last few hours, work out what he
had taken that would give him such a moevay dix as this, but he could see
nothing. And all the time Taeda was smiling inanely as he pushed his
enhanced monster into and out of Janah.

He wanted to close his eyes, but beyond autonomous blinking, his eyes were
also not his to control. And so he stared, stared at the manic man in front
of him. The man that was claiming him. Had claimed him and was now....

What?

What happened next?

He was Tied to the Palace of the Sunsets. What did that mean? He saw Ties
all the time. Life would not happen in Troubian without them, but what was
their lot? What did they do and what happened to them...

But he knew the answer to that one. Had always known the answer to that one
and had joked with his friends about it when they had seen a particularly
large beef-tie walking past them. Male slaves, at least when they became
beef-ties, were food. Not long after their thirty-fifth birthday they would
be processed for their meat. It had never really occurred to Janah to
assume what this really meant.

Now, though, now he was a tie. A boy-tie, maybe, but no more than twenty
years away from processing! Now he understood. He would serve and then he
would be served. And that was not funny!

He screamed again then, and the horror that filled his mind broke through
the blocks the tox had placed on his body and his scream became real,
audible. On top of him Taeda stopped in shock as the aim of his lust
suddenly screamed the scream of the damned before he collapsed into
unconsciousness.

****

"There you go." Taeda said, his voice slicing through Janah's brain like a
knife. "Never trust a Jab to do the work of an artist!" He laughed. "I know
you are awake, boy, I have adjusted the tox. I designed its capabilities."

Janah opened his eyes and was surprised to realise that he could open his
eyes. He had some control back over his body!

"So now you realise you have some movement." Taeda said as his face came
into view in front of Janah's. "But not too much, I think." He laughed. "I
have had to adjust the tox you received and this, unfortunately, gives you
control of some muscles and some sensation back. You still can't speak and
you still can't move."

He moved away, a door banged and Janah realised he had left the room. He
tried to work out where he was. It was still dark. He appeared to be locked
to a metal frame. Hands above and to the side of his head. Legs locked at
his ankles to two poles, one on either side of the bed. He was still naked
and still, it would appear, at the mercy of Taeda.

There was a noise and someone came into the room. Taeda! He was beginning
to recognise the odd smell the man had around him. He tried to move, but
couldn't. Tried to scream again, but his throat was once again shut
down. Out of his control. A light came on above the bed.

"Better." Taeda muttered as he stood at the end of the frame and looked
down on Janah. "I like to see my Ties as I work on them." He smiled. "Jaxen
light going like that gave me the spooks! Now, back to work, no? I still
haven't finished with you."

This time there was no release. No sinking into the depths of
unconsciousness. Taeda had him and, with the Fash to help him along, he
took Janah for what seemed like hours. Janah could feel nothing. Could only
lay there as this man pushed into and out of him.

He had given up on screaming, given up on fighting. All he could do now was
cry. His eyes were his own, and he cried as this man raped his body. Raped
his life.

And then it was over.

"Oh, sweet." Taeda said as he walked around the frame and bent over Janah's
face. "I have taken you to heaven and you cry at the beauty!" He laughed,
wiping his hand across Janah's wet face.

He moved off to the other side of the room and, when he came back, he was
clothed again.

"You are not due to be booked in until tomorrow afternoon." He said, coming
to sit on the bed frame next to Janah. That gives me at least another three
hours to play with you. What shall we do next, do you think?" He asked. "I
need to eat, I believe. I always think better on a full stomach."

He stood and scuttled out of the room, returning a few minutes later with a
reader. He sat down next to Janah once more and pushed the reader in front
of Janah's face so he could see the screen.

"Fash gives me such a hunger!" Taeda laughed. "A sex hunger and a stomach
hunger! Have you had that? Really?" He asked, answering for Janah. "And I
thought it was only me! So, what to eat? The kitchens are well stocked here
and, with so many Ties, there are pleasures to be had at any time of the
night."

He ran his hand down Janah's body as he spoke, hands finally wrapping
themselves around Janah's balls and quill.

"My, you are a well developed boy-tie." He smiled, squeezing Janah
tightly. "Almost a Toreau, no?"

Janah wanted to struggle, but couldn't move. Still couldn't move. The law
forbade the processing of boy-ties and, while it was not common for
Toreau-Ties (over twenty-one years old) to be processed, they occasionally
were...

"Such a shame the tox I've given you has killed any sensation you have
here." Taeda muttered as he continued playing with Janah. "Else I might
have eaten there for a while. But you have given me an idea, sweet
Janah. Thank you."

He pulled the screen away from Janah and called up some information, before
pushing it again in front of Janah. The screen showed five images. All
pictures of boy-ties, all about his age.

"There is a dish." Taeda whispered into his ear, his tongue snaking out and
wiping itself across his cheek. "It is called Mala Jensha. The quill of a
beef-tie is pumped full of Veran jelly. When this is set one of the gonads
is minced and prepared, then stuffed into the engorged quill, the Mala. The
whole thing is then wrapped and poached delicately before it is sliced onto
a bed of leaves. The other gonad is sliced in half then saut‚ed gently
with the root of the Veran. This too is added to the plate. Have you tried
it? No? It is good, but in my humble opinion, it tastes much better when it
is prepared from the parts of an older boy-tie." He smiled then and bent
over Janah, licking his way down his chest and suckling noisily on his limp
quill.

He released him and looked back down at Janah's face.

"This, then, this is what we will eat tonight."

Taeda stood, letting the screen fall onto Janah's chest. He danced around
the room, hugging himself before he sat back on the bed.

"Such an indulgence, such danger if we are caught, Janah!" Taeda
laughed. "And such an expense! A whole boy-tie butchered for his quill and
gonads! But it has been a while, and you are very persuasive, Janah. Very
persuasive. You have pleasured me, so I will allow you this little
indulgence. We will have Mala Jensha du Garso this night."

He pulled the screen back up so Janah could see the five images.

"Which boy-tie should we have, Janah?"

The first image expanded to fill the screen.

"This one is almost at his prime. almost a Toreau-tie, look!" Taeda
said. "But that much meat would be noticed and even chef could not hide the
fact that we were overstocked. So not him."

The image receded and a second filled the screen.

"You are right, Janah." Taeda laughed. "Too young. His gonads have not had
the chance to function long enough for them to have built up any taste!
What was I thinking? This one, you think?"

Another image appeared. A young man, about Janah's age. He looked sad in
the picture but then, Janah realised, it had probably been taken not long
after Taeda had 'broken' him in.

Stop!

Taeda was still prattling inanely above him, but Janah was consumed by the
horror of this situation. He was drowning in the terror of what this man
was doing! He was selecting a boy, no more than sixteen or seventeen, so he
could eat his balls and quill! And he did it as if he were selecting the
clothes he was wearing that day!

"So we have decided." Taeda laughed, taking the reader away from Janah's
view. "I must leave you for a while now." He said as he bent down and ran
his tongue across Janah's sex, pausing to take each of his balls into his
mouth. "So sweet." He smiled, stroking Janah's chest. "Soon, when there is
a little more beef on you. Perhaps I will have the chance to taste you?
What do you think? Mala Jensha du Janah? It has a certain ring to it, and
my mouth is watering already!"

He stood and moved about the room.

"I must process the boy-tie now, Janah." He said after a moment from out of
Janah's vision. "Then chef will prepare the dish and hide the rest of the
meat in the stores. After Chef will bring the dish and we can eat, you and
me!" He laughed then, a high pitched laugh. "Of course, Chef will need to
have some time with you as well. It's only fair. And he does so like his
sex to be with new boys. Especially new sweet boys like yourself!"

He laughed as he left the room. Janah heard the door close behind him and
then the silence descended on the room. He could hear his own breathing,
hear his heart beating, but that was it. He concentrated then.

Using his heart as a metronome, he pushed all of his concentration into one
of his hands. Used the beat of his heart to send pulses of thought to his
fingers.

Move - move - move - move - move.

He commanded them slowly and carefully. A twitch, slight, but there was a
twitch. He concentrated again, sweat forming at his brow. It would not help
him to be able to move again, but it would give him back some control - and
that was what he needed at the moment.

Control.

By the time Taeda returned, he could move all of his fingers ever so
slightly, and he could concentrate so intently on them that he could
exclude all other distractions, including Taeda.

"Hello, Janah." Taeda said as he bustled into the room. "Still ready for
me, I see."

He laughed and moved over to the other side of the room. Janah could hear
him working at a table or bench, but he wanted to not hear him. He pushed
his concentration back into his hands, down to his fingers.

"A little adjustment is due, I think." Taeda said as he came back over to
the frame and sat at the end between Janah's legs. "Chef likes some
sensation when he works on his Ties. Me, I can take it or leave it. This is
all about me, after all. But, Chef is insistent."

He pulled out a small dart and deftly stabbed it into the back of one of
Janah's thighs.

"This will not take too long, and at the end of it you will have some
feeling back. Even some movement." Taeda smiled, taking his tox back over
to the table Janah could not see.

A wave of pain wrapped around his lower body and Janah would have screamed
out again, but he still could not speak.

"You should feel some pain." Taeda said from over the other side of the
room. "It will pass and when it does you will have some sensation back. Not
much movement, but your sense of touch should return. You will be able to
show Chef how much you appreciate his ministrations, Janah. He likes
that. Likes to know that his Ties enjoy what he does to them."

There was a knock at the door and Taeda opened it, talking with the person
there before coming over to Janah and sitting on the side of the bed. He
was holding a plate and held it out so Janah could see.

"Look, my sweet!" He smiled. "Mala Jensha du Garso. My how it smells. It
reminds me of you!"

He wafted the plate under Janah's nose. Janah could see the leaves, see the
sliced Mala, the fried gonad...

He wanted to be sick. All his life he had eaten meat and thought nothing of
it. Known it was beef-tie he was eating, but it had meant
nothing. Beef-ties were meant to be food. It was what they gave to
society. But not boy-ties! There were laws to protect them, weren't there?
And now, now he understood what all this really meant. He was a boy-tie. If
Taeda wished it, he would be eaten like this. Butchered and turned into a
delicacy for people like Taeda, like he had been!

Taeda sat next to him, making slurping noises as he swallowed some of the
Mala.

"My, this is good." He smiled. "Chef has excelled himself tonight. Would
you like some?" He asked Janah, then answered for him. "Then why didn't you
say?" He laughed. "You know how much I love this! I would have eaten it
all!"

He pushed some of the Mala onto a fork and held it over Janah's open
mouth. He let the meat fall in.

"The only problem is, of course." Taeda said as he stood and put the plate
on a nearby table. "Your upper throat muscles are toxed. I'll have to push
it down for you so you can take it into your stomach."

Janah could hear him getting undressed and then a moment later he climbed
over Janah's torso, sitting in front of Janah's arms, using them as a back
rest. His engorged and enlarged quill hung over Janah's mouth and he slowly
pushed it inside.

"Just as beautiful as I expected." Taeda sighed as he began to slowly pump
Janah's mouth. "Thank you Janah." He laughed. "And what irony, don't you
think? You swallow a quill to swallow the Mala!"

He laughed at his own joke, and all Janah could do was look up at him while
this maniac forced himself onto him once more. He wanted to be sick again,
wanted to gag again, but there was no way his body or the tox that
controlled it now, would let him do that.

Without the Fash to sustain and enhance the experience, Taeda reached his
release quickly. He arched his back over Janah, and Janah felt his throat
muscles involuntarily swallow. He had taken this man and the cursed meat he
had forced into him.

"Beautiful." Taeda smiled as he pulled out of Janah and climbed off the bed
frame. "And your face looks so sweet still." He smiled, and Janah could
hear him getting dressed out of his line of sight.

A moment later and he heard Taeda pick up the plate and begin eating again.

"Beautiful." He sighed at the end and Janah hear the plate settle back onto
the table. "Chef will be here soon." He added, coming back into Janah's
line of sight. "He doesn't like an audience while he performs. So I will
leave you now, lovely." He said, running his hand along Janah's body, and
when he stroked below Janah's waist, Janah could feel his hands. Smooth,
slightly slick with sweat.

"The only time we will meet again now is if I need to re-assign you
somewhere else in the Palace." He whispered as he bent down and kissed
Janah's chest. "Or when I get to eat the Mala Jensha du Janah you so
sweetly promised me earlier." He laughed.

Janah wanted to scream. But still he remained silent. The new tox Taeda had
given him had taken away any feeling he had regained in his fingers again
as well. So now he remained here, lifeless, trapped. A slave to this place.
Tied to the Palace of Sunsets.

From now until he was butchered!

The door opened and someone came quietly into the room. Janah could not see
him until he appeared at the end of the frame between Janah's legs. He was
a stocky man, older than Taeda, also slick with sweat. He looked over to
Janah and smiled, but said nothing.

He put on some gloves and then squeezed some gel onto his fingers. Fash,
again, but this time Janah could feel it. Feel the fires of pleasure as the
Chef pushed the drug into him. Felt his own quill begin to stir as the
passion the Fash ignited in his body began to fill his quill with blood and
his balls with semen. Semen for this man's pleasure.

And he was excited.

Janah could hear him stumbling as he undressed hurriedly and then he
appeared at the end of the bed frame again. Naked, and ready to take Janah.

He did not speak and after the first thrust, both he and Janah were
exported to the heaven that Fash gave its users. An ecstasy that engulfed
them both in its passion. Janah fought the pleasure. Fought the desire, but
there was no resisting the Fash. It controlled his sex as completely as the
tox controlled his muscles. Janah was a slave to this.

The passion wrapped around him, squeezed at his balls, pulled his aching
quill and then, at the same time, both he and the Chef exploded into the
release of their passion. The Chef laughed, the first vocal sound he had
made since he came into the room. He leant forward and took Janah into his
mouth, cleaning him. When that was done he licked the remaining juices from
Janah's belly.

He stroked Janah's hair before he turned to pull on clothes. He turned the
light off as he left the room, leaving Janah in darkness, still strapped to
the bed. The Fash, still swimming around his body, overcame him then. As it
was designed to do, it seeped into his brain and pushed him into a deep
forgetful sleep.

****

Janah woke. He ached and his skin felt like it was on fire!

"Ah!" He cried as he turned over.

He was on a thin narrow bed. The bed was one of many, they seemed to be
built into the walls of the corridor, three high.

"Hello." A voice said coming over to him. "Don't speak yet." She
added. "The tox should be wearing off now. You are going to feel like daka
for a few hours, I'm afraid."

He turned over, fighting the pain this brought to his skin. The owner of
the voice was a tall slender woman. She had long brown hair and was wearing
a simple white smock, nothing else. She was about the age of his
mother. She smiled at him, then held her fingers to her mouth.

"No talking." She laughed. "There is nothing I can give you for the pain,
I'm afraid. Taeda has had his way with you as well, I see." She added. "He
is an evil man, but, I believe you have worked that out already! You will
meet more like him, and others who are not." She added. "Now, my name is
Samara. You are a new tenure and, in a few hours, will be taken to meet
Master Warrior Fedash. He will decide where you will be placed for the
length of your stay with us. I'll come back in about an hour and help you
wash. The pain should be mostly gone by then."

She smiled again, then moved off down the corridor behind him out of his
view.

Tenure!

She, Samara, she had said he was a new tenure, not a tie!

There was hope here, he could feel it, despite the pain that coursed around
the edges of his body as he turned to lay on his back. Tenures were only
tied for a fixed-time. His parents had not sold him into slavery full-time
then, just for a set period. He would reach his majority in eight months,
so they couldn't have done it for longer than that!

Tenure.

They would still pay, though. Parents or not, they had no right to treat
him like this, none at all, and he would remind them of that at the end of
this! And then what? He would forge a life that did not involve them was as
separate from theirs as he could make it.

Jax to them both! If he could sell them into tenure or as ties, he
would. That might come, but at the moment he would lie here and wait. Eight
months service in the Palace of Sunsets might not be as bad as all that. He
might even make some contacts that he could use at the end of the
tenure. Contacts that would help him forge his new life.

He was not unattractive and also not unintelligent. He would survive this
and he would be stronger as a result.

Taeda!

Pain wracked through him at the thought of the man's name! He would suffer
as well, that much was sure. When this was all over, he would plan an
exquisite death for Taeda Gheran Japuth. A death that would make him scream
for processing at a meat plant - but even that quick release would be
denied him. Taeda would pay as his parents would pay.

Jax them all!

He kicked out in frustration, then whimpered as the pain flowed around him
again.

"I know my tox." Taeda had told him.

Janah knew tox as well, and he also knew people who knew more about tox and
narcomeds than Taeda Gheran Japuth knew, that was sure! That would be the
way he would get his revenge on Taeda. A cocktail of tox and a few selected
narcomeds, a pleasure enhancing, pain inducing cocktail. He would show
Taeda what tox could really be used for. And in the hands of a master, as
Janah planned to become, it would be a performance of unmatched beauty.

And Taeda would die.

Not immobilised like he had done to Janah and countless other poor ties, no
doubt. No, he would die slowly and oh so painfully. And Janah would be
there to watch every excruciating second of Taeda's last moments alive.
Every second.

And then the chef!

Complicit because he had, at Taeda's command, killed a boy-tie to feed a
vicious hunger. Janah no longer worried that he had also taken him, for the
moment he was a tenure. Many more would have their ways with him, he did
not doubt, before this was over. But the chef, he had gone one step
further. He had killed an innocent. That was the price he had paid to take
Janah. And it was not a price Janah was prepared to let go unavenged.

The chef would not die. Not like Taeda would die. Yet maybe at the end he
would wish he was dead. There would be a way, and Janah was determined to
find it, that the Chef and his parents would be sold into at the least
tenure, but at the best, as Ties.

He would have his vengeance.

****

"You are pacing the room like a hobbled Jidendry!" Fedash smiled looking up
from the desk.

"There is something in the air..."

The voice was lyrical, like several people speaking at once. It was the
voice of his Gift. The creature stood by the window looking out over the
arena that lay in front of this office. It was tall, elegant, and
distinctly alien and completely human at the same time.

Fedash stood from the desk and came over to it, slipping his arm around its
waist.

"You have spoken to the others?" He whispered.

"No!" The Gift laughed, turning and stroking the Mater Warrior's face. "It
is nothing. I felt something... someone."

"Well when you are sure, tell me." Fedash smiled. "Now go, research stuff!
The Prince of Princes wants her answer this evening, and we are still no
closer to aiding her understanding."

"What time should I expect you?" The Gift asked.

"Tonight, late." Fedash sighed as he sat back down behind the desk. "I have
the Jern-Warrior attainment battles this afternoon, and the Palace of
Sunrises this evening! And you know how long those meals go on for!"

"You will survive." The Gift laughed, as it nuzzled his hand. "I will be
waiting for you."

It laughed again and moved back into the room next door where it was
working.

Fedash watched it go and smiled. He had been gifted for thirty years now
and still wanted the Gift as much as he had the first time he had seen
it. Thirty years had made him the strongest and most powerful of all the
Warriors, but it had also made his Gift even more beautiful. Even more
wise.

There was a knock at the door.

"Enter!" He barked.

Love, Soldevna, even lusty Soldesha, was all well and good, but he was
still a Warrior, and that meant he had to act like one!

Two Ties came into the room. A female, Samara, he remembered, and one he
had not seen before. Obviously new.

"And?" Fedash asked, not looking up from the reader he was studying. It
showed all the Ties in the Palace, where there were gaps he could place
this new Tie into.

"My Pahtron." Samara said, falling to her knees in supplication.

The new tie did the same. Over the years Fedash had never been able to get
used to the way people looked at him, or other warriors for that matter,
when they saw them for the first time. This new Tie had probably only ever
seen images of Warriors, or seen them at a distance. Now he saw the Master
of all the Warriors, and his face was one of awe and almost palpable fear.

"Who is this one?" Fedash asked as Samara climbed to her feet.

"He is Janah, Pahtron." She replied. "He is a tenure."

"Length?"

"Six months, Pahtron."

"Not long then." Fedash mused coming around the desk and walking over to
Janah.

He was a stocky boy, the shape of the man he would become was clear under
his skin. Muscles were beginning to develop and there was a clear strength
about him. He would work well out at the Farm, but a tenure could not work
with the beef-tie herds out there. What else?

"You were studying before your tenure?" Fedash asked the boy.

"Yes, Pahtron." Janah replied, keeping his head low.

"What, what did you study?" The Master Warrior asked him.

"Propulsion Systems, Pahtron."

"Planetary or spatial?"

"Spatial, Pahtron."

"Not much need for that in the Palace of Sunsets." Fedash mused, returning
to his desk. "Space flight is controlled from the Palace of Sunrises. You
have been tied to the wrong palace!" He laughed.

There was silence as he returned to his screen.

A noise made Janah look over to the only other door that came into this
room. A creature stood there that defied description. Tall, slender, a
large ovoid head with ears that stood out from the side. A face that was
human, but also not human. Sensuous lips, a small nose and large, large
eyes.

Before he could take in any more Samara pulled him back to his knees.

"I have found it!" The creature said as it came into the room, its voice
seemed to fill the whole space, as if a small choir were singing them. "The
answer is in..." It stopped short. "Oh... I am sorry, my Pahtron. I had not
realised."

The creature's eyes turned on Janah, and Janah found himself blushing under
the scrutiny.

"Perhaps you can help." Fedash said, and Janah was amazed at this man.

A moment before he had been the most fearsome thing Janah had ever
seen. Tall, broad and strong in ways that Janah could not believe it was
possible for a human to be strong. He had moved with such a feline grace
that it was easy to believe the myths that had grown up around these men,
these warriors.

Now though, now he was like a lost child. The creature, obviously his Gift,
although Janah had never seen a Gift before, had walked into the room and
this monster of a man had turned into a shy teenager! What power did this
creature have that it could bring someone as mighty as this man, the most
powerful of all warriors, to his knees?

Janah wanted that!

"The Serail." The creature said, turning its eyes back on its master and
not waiting for him to finish his sentence, as if it were reading the words
straight out of the Warrior's head. "Place him in the Serail."

"As you wish." The Master Warrior smiled. "Samara, take Janah to meet
Sharenna."

"Yes, my Pahtron." Samara said.

She turned and ushered Janah out of the room.

When they were gone Fedash turned and went to his gift, taking him in his
arms.

"You felt that?"

"If you felt it too then it was strong!"

"I felt it!" Fedash said. "That boy has an energy!"

"We have to gift him!"

"But how? If he was a tie, yes, but a tenure? He will be free in six months
and lost to us!"

"Then I must convince him otherwise." The Gift said.

"Then he will be yours in moments." Fedash smiled, pulling the Gift into a
kiss. "It only took you two seconds to take me, remember!" He laughed.

"I am your Gift." The Gift smiled. "You have no option but to love me."

"And this one. You think he should be gifted too?"

"The last three Gifts are important. They have to be strong. From these
come the future."

"You believe that?" Fedash asked.

"I know this with every fibre of my being."

"Then you know I will do whatever you ask."

"I know."

"It will not be easy though, the plans you have will change the galaxy!"

"Our plans will save humanity." The Gift told him. "That is what drives
us."

"And this one?"

"The last three Gifts, the Gifts that will take us to the four hundred and
thirtieth prime, these are the most crucial. The pinnacle of everything we
have strived for. They need to be made from strong men, Fedash."

"Janah is strong?"

"He has potential." The Gift mused. "It remains to be seen as to whether he
is strong enough."

"And if he is not?"

"Then we leave him to his fate and look for the one who is."

****

"What was that?" Janah asked Samara as they walked through the corridors of
the palace.

"It was the Gift." Samara said. "The Gift of the Troubled Waters."

"What?"

"They have names." Samara smiled. "Not the same as ours, but they have
names."

"And power." Janah said. "Did you note how it made the Master Warrior
dance? That creature owns him!"

"I did not notice that."

"You didn't note the way he softened when it came into the room?"

"He is always very affectionate to his Gift." Samara said. "He protects it
above all things."

"But he melted before it!" Janah said. "You didn't note that?"

"I am always in awe of the Gifts." Samara said. "When they are in the room
it is all I can do to concentrate. They are so beautiful."

"Corridge." Janah smiled, but stopped himself from saying anything else.

He had seen something in that room. He had seen the Gift exert such power
over the Warrior, but Samara had not seen a thing beyond the Warrior's need
to protect its Gift. He had seen the Gift take this man, this man of men,
and bend it to its will without even exerting itself! To have such power,
to have such a mastery, and over a man like the Master Warrior. There would
be no end to what Janah could achieve!

"The Serail is this way." Samara said, waiting while Janah came back to
her.

"Sorry." He said. "I was way-gone there."

"Clearly."

"What is the Serail?" He asked.

"You don't know?" She laughed.

"No." He said.

"In the Palace of the Sunrises it is called the Seraglio."

"Oh." He said.

"You know what that is?"

"Yeah. That's where the Prince of Princes keeps her pleasures."

"Exactly." Samara laughed. "Here it's not as grand, and not devoted to the
pleasure of one person. We have a lot of people visit the palace, they need
looking after. So we have the Serail."

"I'm to be a pleasure-tie?"

"That could be one of your roles." She laughed. "Come on!" She added. "It
could be worse, the Gift could have put you on cleaning duty!"

"Pleasure."

"You have a problem with sex?"

"No, but after Taeda, I was hoping for something else!"

"Sadly there are a lot of men like Taeda out there, and women." Samara told
him. "You will pleasure them, if that is what they want."

"Great."

They were silent as they walked down the corridor. They were near to the
centre of the palace now and outside, through the vaulted windows that ran
along one side of the corridor, Janah recognised the Silver March. The long
narrow tract of land was lined with seats on one side and overlooked by the
Tower of Gifting at one end. This place, once each year, was the subject of
every bet on Tare du Maretch as people wagered on which of the new Warriors
would win and which would fail.  Up until today Janah had thought nothing
more of it. Now he realised there was more. This was also when the Warriors
received their Gifts. And, now that he had met one, Janah knew how powerful
those creatures were.

And the Tower of Gifts was their home. He looked at the base of the tower
now as they moved quickly down the corridor. It was a tall elegant spire,
the highest in the palace. Very few windows lined its flank, but those that
did looked only onto the Silver March. This was the purpose of this
Tower. It was where the Gifts lived before they were gifted.

Nothing was known of the Gifts and now, having seen one, he was the only
person he knew that had actually been in the same room as a Gift. There
were almost three thousand Gifts and Warriors moving around the planet now,
three thousand! But with a general population of over two hundred million,
that was a small number indeed. And being protected by their Warriors, it
was rare to see one, even in Troubian.

He had seen hundreds of Warriors in his life, never up close, but he had
seen them never-the-less. But never a Gift.

Power!

Yet the Power they wielded! If each Gift controlled its Warrior to the
extent that the Gift of the Troubled Waters controlled the Master Warrior
Fedash, then he was surprised that it was not the Gifts sat on the Sunrise
throne! The power! How was it checked?

"Hello..." Samara's words brought him out of his reverie.

"Sorry. I was way-gone again!"

"You are going to have to stop doing that." Samara told him. "And also stop
speaking street! Sharenna does not suffer fools gladly and, tenure or not,
she will have you cleaning the butchery in no time if you annoy her!"

"Then I will attempt not to do that." Janah promised.

"Good." Samara smiled. "Because we are here."

She pushed open a door and then pushed Janah through it.

"You're not coming?" He asked her.

"I am only allowed into the Serail by invitation." She told him. "This is
your home now. Go!"

"Thanks!" He called to her as the doors closed.

He could not hear her reply.

"And you are?" A voice asked.

He turned, a rotund woman, short to match her girth, stood before him.

"I am Janah." He said.

She remained silent, her gaze took in his whole being and he felt
uncomfortable standing before her.

"The Master Warrior told me you had been assigned here. You are a Tie or
tenure?"

"Tenure."

"Length?"

"Six months."

"Not much time then!" She sighed. "Come with me."

She led him out of the room and down another corridor.

"I have no idea what I have to do." Janah said.

"There are only two things you have to remember here." The woman said
stopping and putting her hands on his shoulders. "The first is, you don't
speak to Sharenna, that's me by the way, you don't speak to me unless I
invite you to speak. The second is that you give our clients the best time
they have ever had, every time. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Janah whispered.

"Good. Because if you screw up on either, I'll be eating your balls whether
you are a tenure or not! Now." She said stopping by a door. "Strip!"

He obeyed, pulling off the grey shorts Samara had given him.

"Good." She said looking him over and then turning him around, running her
hand down his back. "At least there is something to work with." She
sighed. "But in six months? I doubt even I can get you to your best!" She
sighed again and turned him around, then took his jaw in her hand and
stared into his eyes. "Now, Janah, on the other side of that door is a
shower. It is your friend, and you will use it often, OK? Man-stink is not
acceptable around here. Guests don't like it and, to be frank, nor do I. So
shower, then scent. There will be some clothes in there. Put them on. I'll
meet you on the other side of the exit, jen?"

"Jen." Janah said.

At the end of the day, despite what he had seen in the office of the Master
Warrior, he was still a tenure. Still tied to the Palace of Sunsets for the
next six months. And that was shaping up to be a challenge all in itself.

****

The Serail was a large hotel. It stood at one end of the Silver March,
looking up the March to the Tower of Gifting. At its heart was a large
garden foyer, opened to the sky above. The gardens here had been designed
to conjure up fabulous gardens from The One World. There were not many
plants to work with on Tare du Maretch though, so it was more sculpture
gallery than garden.

On the ground floor of the Serail were the service rooms. As a tenure here,
Janah was learning how to serve. He had already worked the two bars, as
well as the Amber room, where sedative drugs were issued and the Platinum
room where drugs of a more sensual nature were administered. He had worked
in these rooms only, not served in them as a Tie.

The three floors above this housed the guest rooms and suites. Rooms that
clients stayed in and, occasionally, used to entertain a Tie. Sharenna did
not deem him able to cope with the nuances required in pleasuring a client
yet, so he had not had to visit any of these rooms.

He had to admit that he didn't mind this. Ties here were given to clients
of either sex as required by the client. He could as easily be assigned to
a man as a woman and, after Taeda and the Chef, he did not enjoy the
thought of that.

Not yet.

He had seen Taeda come through the foyer one morning when he had been
cleaning one of the fountains. A cold hand gripped his heart as the man
shuffled through the foyer. Taeda had not noticed Janah working on the
fountain, but Janah had seen him and his hatred of the man had become
palpable again.

He wanted to run over and kill him there and then! But he knew that was not
the way it would be. Taeda would die, Janah would kill him. That much had
been decided. But his death had to have closure. Killing him here, in the
open, it would not bring closure and would probably result in his death as
well.

No, he would bide his time.

And now, now he was working in one of the function rooms. A delegation from
the moon Chralba had come down to Tare du Maretch to celebrate the opening
of a profitable new mine. Chralba was still volcanically active, and the
mine was promising to be the largest diamond mine in the system. In this
sector of the galaxy by all accounts. Something worth celebrating and the
administrators, financiers and engineers here were celebrating in style.

His role here was to provide drinks and light narcomeds for the
Clients. Make sure glasses were full and smile when spoken to. Nothing
more.

Unfortunately no-one had told the clients that, and now one of the female
delegates was negotiating with Hannah, his senior, about taking him with
her to the Platinum Room. She wanted more pleasure than the narcomeds were
providing, and she wanted Janah to be the source of that pleasure.

He had known this moment would come, had just not been looking forward to
it. He was returning to his station for another bottle of wine when Hannah
came over to him.

"A Client has purchased your services." She told him. "You will meet her
outside the Platinum Room in half an hour. She has paid for an hour,
nothing more. You understand?"

"Yes." Janah replied, bowing his head.

Sharenna, he had discovered, was all bluster. Yes she would get angry, yes
she would shout and even hit, but she would always forgive. Hannah, on the
other hand, she was specific. If you strayed from her directions you paid
in pain. Simple. Of the two, it was Hannah that scared him the most.

"Good. Go and get showered and changed. And don't forget to take the
Nixtabs. You can get some from Kadem if you need more. Report back to me
before you go to the Platinum Room. I want to make sure you look worthy of
the Client."

"Of course." Janah whispered and moved at speed across the room.

It did not serve to be seen delaying any of Hannah's orders either, and
within fifteen minutes he had returned to meet her. Showered, scented,
narcomed taken and dressed now only in a pair of gauze-like pants. They
started low on his hips and ended just above his knees. He wore nothing
underneath them and they offered glimpses of everything through the
silk-like material.

"There is not enough beef on you!" Hannah complained as she turned him
around, inspecting his skin like he was an animal. "There's no accounting
for taste, I suppose." She added, more to herself than to Janah. "You are
presentable." She told him after a moment.

She took his arm and led him out of the room and across the foyer to the
Platinum Room.

"Do not move from here." Hannah ordered. "You will go with the client to
her couch. Her drug is Farna. You know it?"

"I have heard of it." Janah said.

He knew Farna, had taken it himself on many a dance with a buxom or wench
from the Jeda Larsha in Anka Faril. A simple street-drug that was used to
increase the sensuality of touch.

"It will make her skin very sensitive, and her erogenous zones even more
so. You will do as she asks, and nothing more. This is her dix, not
yours. Remember that!"

"I'll remember." Janah said. "And at the end of the hour?"

"One of the Ties will come and get you. She may pay for more, but I doubt
it. By then the pleasure will have taken her if you do your job correctly."

"I will do my best."

"Hah!" Hannah laughed. "I know you will. Screw up here, boy, and you will
not get another chance. You understand?"

"I understand."

"Good."

She turned him once more, inspecting his skin again, then turned abruptly
and left him, standing there, head bowed, hands behind his back as was
required. Someone came into the room and he looked up slightly, but did not
stare. It was a group of three men.

"This one for sale?" One of them asked coming over to Janah and running his
hands down his back, cupping his arse.

"He is already taken." The Tie at the desk told him.

"Shame." He said. "Looks like he could be fun. Maybe I'll snap him later."
He laughed.

He wandered after his friends who had already disappeared into the lounge.

A moment later and the door opened again. This time it was his
Client. Genna.

"Well hello." She smiled at him, slipping her hands around his waist and
leading him into the room. "Don't you look just good enough to eat." She
added, slipping her hand beneath the gauze of his pants and stroking his
backside.  "Madame?" A voice asked.

"I need a couch and some Farna."

"Follow me."

The room was large. Chaise-longue were placed around the centre of the room
with more discreet booths at the edge. The three men who had come in
earlier were entering a booth, Janah noted. Genna settled back into her
couch and pulled him onto it next to her.

The ceiling above them was a swirling kaleidoscope of lights that also ran
down some of the walls. The light show was embedded into the ceiling, walls
and floor itself and seemed to flow all around them.

"I don't think you need to wear these." Genna added, pulling his pants off
and running her hands up and down his growing quill. "Now, this you will
give to me last." She told him, slipping her hand down the shaft and
stroking his balls. "As the drug takes me, so I need you to bring me to
arousal. Is that clear?"

"Yes Madam Genna." Janah said.

"Good." She continued to stroke his body and his now erect sex.

A moment later and her drug arrived, a clear liquid in a small glass. She
sipped it gently, then took it all at once, settling back onto the chair.

She pulled him into a kiss and the game began.

In his mind he imagined that Genna was Oka. Beautiful and now lost Oka. He
would pleasure Genna as if he was taking Oka. As he had taken her that
night before the Jabs and Taeda had come to his dom to rip him out of that
life.

Did Oka know that he was gone? Had she and his other friends looked for
him? He didn't know. They would call his dom and his parents would tell
some lie. Maybe they would say he had gone to distant relatives for a few
months.  Oka and the others would accept that. They would forget him.

Genna moaned and he helped her out of her upper clothes. She was a
middle-aged woman, but her body, trained as it was in the gyms of space,
was still strong and lithe. And he pleasured her where she
directed. Throat, mouth, nipples, chest and then, as he helped her slip out
of her trousers, he brought pleasure to her thighs, legs, to her sex.

Farna was a gentle drug and it stole across the body slowly. He could see
the drug was taking effect when her skin began to blush at his touch or his
kiss. Suddenly she pulled his head back to her breasts.

"Take me now!" She ordered.

He climbed onto her and she guided him into her sketch. With hands holding
his buttocks, she pumped him into and out of her. Slowly, rhythmically,
intently. He moved as she directed. She came suddenly and explosively, a
blush covering all of her body, but there was no let up. Farna promised
more than one climax, and she wanted more in her allotted hour.

He would not come, would not reach a peak. The nixtab he had taken when he
had showered had seen to that. His sex would act and it would perform, but
the release here was not his. The Client was paying for her own release,
not his. His balls may churn, but nothing would come out. Not here,
anyway. He would have to release them himself later.

Again she came, and Janah found himself looking over to the clock. He had
ten minutes left, and she was still grinding him into her. She slipped him
around and soon she was riding him. Now the drug had taken her
completely. He was nothing but quill now. Nothing but the sex that filled
her sketch. She didn't need him to bring pleasure with his mouth or hands
now. All she needed was his quill sliding into and out of her.

Just before the hour she came again and fell forward then. Some Ties came
over a few moments later and pulled him out from under her. She was lost to
her internal fantasies now, and he was hustled out of the Platinum Room and
back to the showers.

"Well done." Sharenna said when he stepped out of the shower.

She handed him some shorts and he slipped them on.

"Your first Client is still happy. I am pleased. Work goes on though." She
added. "Hannah is expecting you back at the Mining Party."

"I am on my way."

"Make sure you do." She said as she left the room by the other door.

And that was it.

He had been taken by his first Client. He was a pleasure-tie.

****

And his initiation was over. Every day for the next month he would serve at
a party form one group or another and at least one of the Clients at the
event would pay for some extra time with him. Most of them took him to the
Platinum Room, but three had now had him brought to their rooms. For one he
had become a dancer, slowly removing layers of lace and doush as she let
the narcomed du jour take her away to an ecstasy that his body would
release for her later in the evening.  For another he was a street-buck. A
pleasure-boy for men who liked their sex hard, dirty and young. That had
been a rough night and even Hannah had allowed him a morning to recover
from that session. That had been his first man as well since Taeda and the
Chef. There had been others since.

Each day became a blur of work and unrequited sex. Every day he would bring
one or two clients to pleasure, and every day he would be denied his own
release. He took the nixtabs every morning as he dressed now and, every
evening, when the release finally came, he would bring himself to
satisfaction. He always knew when the narcomed gave him his sex back. His
balls would begin to ache and his quill would stand to attention without
him even having to conjure a fantasy for it!

When that happened he would find a quiet corner and give himself release.

It was always over too quickly, and never brought him the satisfaction that
it had done in the past. Here he was, a purveyor of pleasure in a palace
devoted to pleasure, yet his pleasure would be forever denied him.

He had not expected that.

Had not expected the act of sex to become so commonplace that he thought of
it as nothing more than another chore he had to do before he was allowed to
relax briefly at the end of his working time.

Had never expected that.

Once an off-world ambassador, new to the ways of Tare du Maretch, had taken
a shine to him. He had been taken to her suite and she had played with him
for a day and a night before she let him go. She was beautiful! Tall,
elegantly curvaceous and buxom in a way that made him realise how
inadequate Oka really was!

And she had wanted him! Had used him completely and utterly to fulfil her
lust, and most of that had been without narcomed! In the end she forbad him
taking nixtab and she allowed him release. But even this, even the release
of his sex by a beautiful woman, the type of woman he had used to fill his
boyhood fantasies, even that had been nothing more than a chore.

He had laughed when required, smiled completely. Loved her, made love to
her and lusted after her, but it was all an act. A dance that he had
composed. And he danced it well. There were other pleasure-ties that were
better than him at the art of seduction and sex, but they were older than
him and had been tied for longer. He was the best of the young, and also
the best of those that had served in the Serail for such a short time.

Even Hannah approved.

"I just can't see what it is about you." She told him.

At the time she had been stripping him and rubbing him in oils for a group
of Clients (two women and one man) who wanted him in a private booth in the
Platinum Room.

"You have a rough charm." She had smiled as she had oiled his balls and
quill, "But your body is too young. You are not a man, Janah. Not yet."

She had laughed then smacked him on the arse as she sent him into the booth
to service the eager clients waiting for him.

But it was still just a dance. There was no majesty about sex in this
place. It was a chore, and one that he performed well.

"Now!" Sharenna said, pulling his attention back to her.

They were standing in front of the doors to one of the largest conference
rooms. Janah had worked this space before, it was impersonal and did not
lend itself to the subtleties of pleasure.

"You have all been specifically chosen to serve here today." She
added. "And that is what you shall do. There is no sex on the other side of
this door, just work. You all understand?"

"Yes, Madame." He had responded.

But his curiosity was piqued now. Who would hold a meeting in a room within
the Serail and then not partake of what the Serail so eagerly wanted to
provide?

Sharenna opened the doors and he entered the room, followed by the four
other ties working here today. Five of them to cover such a large space,
and if one of them was called away there would be even more work for the
ones left behind! For the first time in a long time Janah found himself
hoping he would be selected for sex. At least it would save all the hard
work this room was promising.

Sharenna led them over to the serving tables at the back of the room. There
were no narcomeds here, and no bottles of alcohol either. Just large bowls
of what appeared to be a cloudy punch.

Who was celebrating here, the local Council of Eunuchs?

"Attend!" Sharenna called and they crowded around her. "Some of you may
have seen this before." She said ladling the punch into an elegant and wide
glass. "It is called Chambrah du Jejain. A concoction of beef-tie blood,
spring water and milk with a handful of herbs and spices thrown into the
mix. It must be handled delicately!" She added. "Treat it roughly and it
will curdle and believe me, this stuff is likely to be the most expensive
beverage you will ever serve! Do not curdle it!"

She had handed the glass around and some of them tasted it, Janah
included. It was a sweet thick drink, different to anything he had ever
tasted before.

"Now." Sharenna continued. "This is a very special gathering. You will
speak only if spoken to and you will not start a conversation with any of
the Clients, do you understand?"

"Yes Madame." They all answered.

"Good. So, no doubt you are wondering who would come to the Serail, drink
blood and not want your sexual services." She laughed. "In three days it is
the Andrian Equinox and the Silver March will begin. Every Warrior within
hailing distance of Troubian is either in the Palace of Sunsets now or is
on his way. And with them come their Gifts."

Already? Janah was surprised that it was almost Andrian! He had been here
for just under three months!

There was a gasp from the ties around him, and Janah realised he had missed
something important. He desperately tried to patch in what he had missed as
Sharenna continued speaking.

"They meet infrequently, and this meeting is sudden, hence us using this
room. It is too big, but all we have nothing else spare at the moment and,
if the Warriors demand it, we have no choice but to obey."

Warriors then. Janah relaised. They would be serving the Warriors who had
come for the Silver March. That would explain the lack of sexual
favours. They were all tied to their Gifts so had no need to find sex
anywhere else.

"To your tables!" Sharenna ordered, they will arrive shortly.

They crowded around her and she pushed them all off to their allotted
serving station. His was at the other end of the room, well away from the
next table. He would have a large area to cover. He hoped he didn't annoy
anyone by not getting to them in time! It did not do to upset a Warrior!
Their words were law and he could be converted from tenure to tie in an
instant by any of them. He didn't want that!

Didn't want that at all!

All his plans hinged on him ending his tenure here. All his plans required
him being free to pursue his plans. And he had laid the foundations for
those plans now.

He would leave his tenure and move to Anka Faril. He had learned enough
about sex and the narcomeds it required to set himself up nicely on the
Jeda Larsha. His parents would give him his allowance and he would take
this and walk out of their lives, forever.

First he would amass creds and, when he had enough creds, he would buy the
sort of boy-ties he knew Taeda Gheran Japuth liked and he would set about
enticing the man into his den of youthful pleasures. He wouldn't strike
straight away, no. He would wait until Taeda relied on him for his
sex. Needed him for the pleasure he could get him.

He might even butcher one of them and create a delicate Mala Jensha for the
man. Draw him in even closer. And then, then when he was a friend of the
man Taeda, he would strike. All his plans would coalesce around the man and
Taeda would die a painful, slow and persistent death. When Janah was
finished with him, his body would not even be any good for processing.

There would be nothing left of the man that could be eaten.

Nothing!

He blinked and the room resolved around him. He had zoned out for a moment
there! That was not good, not good indeed! And there was a buzz at the
other end of the room, the Warriors had arrived. Thank Galaxia they had not
come in at this end else he would have been in serious trouble already....

They weren't Warriors.

At the other end of the room at least thirty Gifts were striding in through
another set of double doors. They were speaking or laughing or singing, it
was hard to tell. Thirty-one, he realised. Of course. The eleventh prime,
and these creatures lived and died by their prime numbers. That much he had
learned in his time here. And the eleventh prime was Galaxia herself.

The universe would live through thirty-one epochs and this epoch, the
eleventh, was the time of Human Ascendant. Or so he had read. Human or
Human Est, he seemed to remember.

He shook his head.

What was happening here? He could not get way-gone here! Not now, not with
so many Gifts in the room!

Two of them approached his end of the room. They were already carrying full
glasses, so he did not move from his station. Instead he watched them as
they approached, lost to their lyrical conversation.

They were tall, two, maybe two and a half metres tall. Much taller than his
one and a half metres. Their skins were pale and, even though the room was
bright from the daylight streaming in from the ceiling lights, he could
still see them glowing. They had a luminescence about them that was
magical.

Their legs were long and slender, as were their arms, much longer than
human legs or arms. Their tails were also sensuous, and that surprised
him. He did not expect these creatures to be sexual to anyone but their
Warriors, but here he could see that they were very sexual.

Tails that flicked in the air above their heads. Many of them had elaborate
chains that linked their tails into their back plates, forcing the tails to
arch up their backs and over their heads. Their fingers and toes were long
and delicate and, despite being enclosed in elaborate gilt and woven cages,
their Nectaria still swayed gently as they walked. And then there was their
quill. He knew that they were called Ambrosium when applied to the Gifts,
but they still resembled male quill and he found his eyes drawn to them.

His time in the Serail had taught him to admire human male bodies in the
way he had once only admired human female bodies. Serving as a pleasure-tie
made you realise what Clients wanted from the male body and he worked his
body every day to make sure that was what he gave them. These Gifts,
though, their Ambrosium were much larger than he had expected.

The two that approached him had their Ambrosium strapped to their breast
plate and held in place by either chains or hoops of precious metal. Both
creatures were erect. And the erect Ambrosium was forcing Janah's hitherto
dormant quill into life! He wished for a moment that he had taken the
nixtab this morning as usual after all!

How could he be physically attracted to a Gift? It shouldn't be possible,
they were keyed, cell for cell, to their Warriors. There was no room for
him in that equation and yet, and yet he hoped that no-one looked over to
him too closely! He didn't want to get thrown out of this gathering for
being aroused!

What Hannah would do to him did not bear thinking about! And the thought of
Hannah eased his embarrassment slightly, as it always did!

The creatures turned and began their walk back to the other end of the
room, but he noticed now a group of three was approaching, and some of them
had empty glasses. He carefully poured three new glasses of the Chambrah
before piling them on a tray and taking them over to the Gifts.

"Thank you." One of them said as it placed its empty glass on the tray and
took another one.

Its hand stroked Janah's wrist and he felt a shock as if he had touched the
two wires together on the Tense Road.

He remembered his last night of freedom then. The stinking apathy that had
surrounded him as he had run from his parent's dom. the journey across the
Tense Road and then his time in Anka Faril. He Slep and Oka did not have
loads of cred to spend that night so they had stayed most of the time in
Shandrax. In the end the narcomeds served to them by Kala sapped any sparks
they had had at the start of the evening and they had stayed until he threw
them out.

Slep lived in a downer, an old warehouse that now housed thirty or forty
people. They had sidled back there after that, laughing and joking. Janah
smiled now as he remembered that night. The next morning he would be raped
by Taeda, sold as a tie by parents that had done nothing to understand him,
just saddled him with expectations that were not his.

Would never be his!

But Taeda would have his rewards, he had already planned that. For his
parents? He had wanted them dead or tied, but none of it settled well with
him. In the end he would simply stop being part of them. He would cut them
off as completely as they had cut him off here. At the end of the tenure he
would return home demurely. Take their creds, return to school. Then one
day, when he had enough creds saved, he would slip away and never come
back.

Disappear as completely from their lives as they had made him disappear
from Slep and Oka's lives. From the lives of all his friends.

Janah shook his head. The tray contained three empty glasses, but the Gifts
were walking away from him, back to the other end of the hall. He hurried
back to his station and filled glasses for the next approaching
group. There were five this time, and he understood the pattern here.

First two, then three now five and yes, behind the five came one. The
eleventh Gift to approach him. He did not know what this meant, but he
understood primes, of course he did! It was the language of the stars and,
it seemed, the language of the Gifts. There were thirty-one gifts here, he
had counted them almost automatically already. Thirty-one was the Galaxial
Prime, the eleventh prime. Now he was being approached by the last of
eleven Gifts, the fifth prime. What was that, the fifth prime?

He ran through his teachings in his head:

First me.

Second the human triumvirate.

Third the races of Galaxia.

Fourth the Wheel of Life.

Fifth balance.

Balance: Birth and death; male and female; fire and water; sound and
silence; love and hate; and lastly fate, which contains its own balance
within itself. Was that what this was? Were the Gifts talking to him
through the language of the Primes?

Were they drawing him to his fate? Reminding him of his fate? Telling him
that he was fated?

That it was fate he was here now?

The eleventh Gift suddenly laughed, then turned and melted back into the
crowd of Gifts at the other end of the room. The remaining five came to him
for a refill before they too wandered back to the end of the room.

Janah rushed around his station, cleaning glasses, always with an eye to
the group at the other end. For the moment he was left alone. Strangely
alone. The other four ties were working hard to keep the Gifts supplied
with Chambrah and something else. Some food that he didn't appear to have
on his station. He hoped that no-one asked for it!

"What do you desire?" A voice suddenly asked him.

Janah jumped out of his skin as he turned and saw a single Gift, the
tallest of those he had seen so far, standing over him.

"My... Pahtron... sorry!" Janah stuttered.

The physical presence of the Gift threatened to overwhelm him, as if
sensing this the creature smiled then stepped back slightly.

"What do you desire?" It asked him once again.

He knew this phrase, knew that it was the opening line in one of the ritual
texts, Human or Human Est, he seemed to remember. Yet for the life of him
he couldn't remember the next line.

"My mind is sponge, my Pahtron." Janah whispered, then coughed. "I can
answer truthfully, if you wish?" He said more strongly.

"I wish it." The Gift said, its voices wrapping themselves around Janah.

"I wish to reclaim my life."

"An acceptable answer. But beyond that. When you have reclaimed your life,
abandoned your parents to their fates, dealt with Taeda Gheran Japuth. What
do you desire then?"

"You read my thoughts?" Janah asked.

"It is a gift of the Gift." The creature smiled. "We can all read your
thoughts. What do you desire?"

"There is a power about you." Janah said, offering the gift a full glass
and taking the empty one away from it. "I desire that power."

"And what would you do with such power, little human?" The Gift asked him.

"I would use it to shape the destiny of humanity." Janah replied.

"Why would that be required?"

"We are weak in the Great Allegiance." Janah said, remembering discussions
he had had about this with some of his friends. "We are an old race and are
weak as a result. I would turn this power to one of renewal. Humanity must
be great once more."

"You would use the power to change them?"

"Everything changes." Janah replied, lost to the eyes of this Gift.

They were large and completely white. It felt as if he was drowning in the
deep, black pits that were its pupils.

"Anyone can quote the texts." The Gift laughed, not releasing Janah from
its eyes. "Do you believe you can change humanity?"

"I could work at that." Janah said. "My life is short, but I do not want it
to end with the descent of humanity."

"You speak mighty words for one so young." The Gift laughed and Janah
jerked back to the present, to the room. "Humanity will not die in your
life time."

"But in yours, maybe." Janah replied. "Even Galaxia cannot change the past,
what we have done, we have done, but you can change everything and mould
those changes. You are the only constant we have."

The Gift laughed, then stroked his hair.

"What an interesting boy you are. This meeting of the Gifts, you know it
has been convened to test you?"

"I am beginning to understand that." Janah said.

Other Gifts were drifting slowly up the room towards him now and he turned
to prepare more glasses.

"Do not serve us." The Gift in front of him said. "We have had enough
Chambrah!" It laughed. "Show me the power you displayed when you first met
the Gift of the Troubled Waters."

"I do not know what you mean..." Janah said.

"You have an energy, boy. I can taste it in the air about you, but I need
to see it."

"He needs to be angered." Another Gift said as it came over.

It placed its empty glass on the station, then held out an arm to stop
Janah from moving to tend to it.

"Remember Taeda Gheran Japuth." The second Gift said to him. "Show me what
he did to you."

And Janah was transported back to the carriage. He was tied to the cabin
walls and ceiling, and Taeda stood over him, pushed into him. The anger
came then and he struggled, struggled against the tox, against the bonds.

And then the image shifted. This time he was in the room in the
Palace. Taeda had him tied to the bed frame. Locked in place as he took him
again. And then the Mala Jensha. The death of the boy-tie to serve a lust
that had consumed Taeda and had been forced on Janah. He too had consumed
the Mala, had the Mala forced into him by Taeda.

Taeda would die.

Janah would kill him.

His death would be slow.

His death would be painful.

He would know that Janah was killing him.

He would be as helpless as the boy-ties he had murdered to serve his
lustful hunger.

"Stop!" Janah shouted and the two Gifts in front of him staggered back at
the shout. "My head!" Janah cried as he clutched his head.

The pain was more intense than anything Taeda had put on him. Was more than
any tox or narcomed he had taken. Janah fell to his knees.

"Get out of my head!" He screamed.

He could feel them there, all the Gifts, picking over his thoughts,
dissecting his brain as if it were an entree served on a table in front of
them.

"Leave him." A new voice said and a different Gift came to the front of the
group.

"But it is important." Another said.

"But his sanity is also important." The new Gift said. "He came into this
room sane and whole, whatever we decide he will leave in the same manner."

"What... what do you have to decide?" Janah asked, using the table to pull
himself to his feet.

"You hear us?" Another asked as it turned to look at him.

"Of course I hear you." Janah said. "Although your voices are different
now, not as lyrical..."

He suddenly realised what had happened. Not one of the Gifts had spoken out
loud since the new Gift had arrived. They had been thinking to each
other. He was hearing their thoughts...

"I... I..." Janah began, terrified at what these creatures would do to him
now they knew he could hear them!

"Calm." The first Gift said stepping forward and putting a hand on Janah's
shoulder.

Janah felt calm flood through him.

"You have such energy." The Gift told him, and this time its words were
aloud. "We have a great design, we Gifts, we need young men like you, with
such energy."

"What do you want from me?" Janah asked.

"What do you desire?" The new Gift asked him.

"Life." Janah replied, the words of the quote returning to him now. "The
life of a man."

"And is that life human?" The Gift asked.

"No." Janah whispered, deviating from the quote. "It is a life lived, but
not a life lived human."

"We have a gift for you." The Gift told him. "Do you understand what we are
asking of you?"

"I... I think so." Janah replied.

"Who am I?" The new Gift suddenly asked.

"You are the Gift of the Troubled Waters." Janah said. "The Gift of the
Master Warrior Fedash."

"And us?" The two Gifts behind the Gift of the Troubled Waters asked. "Who
are we?"

"You are the Gift of the Sidian Deserts." Janah said, pulling the name from
the air around the Gift. "Gift of the Warrior Graescin. And you are the
Gift of Broken Promises." Janah said, identifying the third Gift. "Gift of
the Warrior Tomlyn."

"And you will be gifted also."

"I am ready." Janah said.

And he was. Everything, he could see that now, everything he had done in
his life had brought him to this moment. He was balanced, for the first
time in his life, he was balanced. He stood in the centre of his fate. In
the centre of the Fifth Prime.

He would become a Gift.

He would change humanity.

****

"Your tenure has been terminated by the Palace of Sunsets." The Professor
told Janah.

They were sitting on a balcony looking out over the Silver March. It was
empty, but ties were preparing it for the festival tonight. Tonight the
Silver March would begin. Tonight the festivities that would see three more
warriors gifted would begin. In two years time he himself would become the
gift of a warrior at the Silver March.

"Do my parents know this?" Janah asked.

"They have been informed." The Professor told him. "They have also been
told that you are not returning home to them. That you have chosen a
different life."

"It is corridge." Janah sighed. "And Taeda?"

"You still wish to see his death yourself?"

"I wish to be party to it." Janah replied. "If that is possible."

"It will mean a two year wait. Can you allow that to happen?"

"It will enable evidence to be collected against him." Janah said.

"More ties may die."

"What would you have me do?" Janah asked, standing up and walking over to
the balcony. "His death will come. I need closure here too. He... he did
things to me!"

"I understand this." The Professor smiled, coming over and putting his arm
around Janah.

He led him back to his chair.

"I just need to be sure you are happy with this decision." He added.

"I would have his arrest and punishment be the first task my Warrior will
perform." Janah said. "I want Taeda to see me at the last, as a Gift, and
to recognise me. Will that be possible?"

"You will be Gifted." The Professor told him. "You will be able to implant
anything in his mind you wish. He will recognise you when you reveal
yourself to him."

"I will look forward to that." Janah smiled.

"Your pleasure at this man's demise is the only thing that worried the
Council of Gifts."

"His destruction is important in my balance." Janah replied. "Surely they
understand this?"

"They recognised and acknowledged this at the end. It is why you were given
this opportunity."

"What will it be like?"

"It will be unbelievable."

"I think I am ready now."

Around them the world shimmered and when the image cleared they were no
longer standing on the balcony. They were standing in a long corridor. Six
tanks filled each wall. On the right wall four of the tanks were
full. Three contained Gifts, one contained a human boy, not much younger
than Janah.

"Who is he?" Janah asked.

"When he was a man, his name was Traes." The Professor said. "As a Gift,
his name will be as he decides."

"He will be my companion?"

"There will be three of you. Together you will complete the four hundred
and thirtieth prime."

"I keep hearing that number." Janah said as he wandered over to the empty
tank next to Traes. "Why is it important to the Gifts?"

"The year that you are to be gifted will be the four hundred and thirtieth
year since the Warrior General Ghen was born."

"An important anniversary..."

"No, Janah. It is a fulcrum. The birth of the Warrior Ghen was a fulcrum as
well. Around him balanced the fate of this world. Around the three members
of the four hundred and thirtieth prime will be another fulcrum. It is said
that around you three, all of humanity will be balanced."

"I do not understand what that means." Janah said, returning to the tank
that contained Traes.

He floated in the middle of the tank as if he were asleep. His body still
looked human.

"No-one understands what that means." The Professor admitted. "It will be
what it will be. Just as the past cannot be changed, nor can the
possibility that is the future."

"How long has Traes been in this tank?" Janah asked, changing the subject.

"Seven days. You will be here for seven days before the third joins you."

"You know who this is?"

"I know him. He is not aware of his fate yet, but we are prepared for him,
as we were prepared for you and for Traes."

"What do I have to do?"

"We need to get your body ready." The Professor told him. "The
metamorphosis into a Gift is not an easy one. Your body needs to be rebuilt
from the inside. We need to put you to sleep for that."

"More tox?" Janah smiled. "It has become the trademark of my life of late."

"Think of it as the last tox." The Professor laughed.

****

"You must cough!" The voice said into his head.

It coughed.

The matrix that had supported it for so long streamed out of lungs and
stomach.

"Breathe!" The voice commanded.

Lungs, not used to breathing anything but matrix for the last nineteen
months, struggled to breathe air. It burned its lungs and it squeezed its
eyes shut tight against the pain. But soon, soon memory of breathing air
returned and its lungs hurt less.

"You can open your eyes now." The voice said.

It did as it was told and looked into the face of the Professor.

"I see so much more!" It said. "I see colour where there were no colours
before."

"You are enhanced." The Professor said, helping his aides lift it into a
chair. "You are gifted."

"It's amazing!" It said.

"I know." The Professor laughed. "What shall we call you now?"

"I am the Gift of the Lost Boy." It replied.

"It is a good name." The Professor laughed. "A good name."

****