The Gift of the Second Prime

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."