Behind Yellow Eyes: Chapter 3

Story by rhenthar on SoFurry

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Chapter 3.

"One through four isn't even worth my time," Mist says. "I told you, they can't be infected." He's having difficulty keeping the growl out of his voice; other shoppers are peering at him when they think he isn't looking. Is it really that hard to find competent help these days?

He watches as the slaver technician bows, some mutt of a Rhenthar with floppy ears. He notes the Mark 6 around his neck. Everyone on the ship wears one, all except for the customers, of course. Cheap insurance, the ease to monitor employees and guarantee secrecy. Plus, if the products ever become scarce, employees can serve a second purpose. Mist smiles at that.

"Number five has tested clean, sir. You'll note the adjusted price."

"Oh, I see it." Mist says. " Quite the rip off, too." He glances down the hall, green indicators show which interview rooms aren't in use. "Put him in IR4. He knows common, right?" The fact that the tech actually pauses before nodding is disheartening. Good slaves are even harder to find than good employees, who knew? IR4 is his favorite, his lucky room.

He thinks back to his time with Keman. The new benchmark, the one that was nearly perfect. All except for where his loyalty is pinned, he could see it clearly in his eyes, it will never leave. Not without destroying all the parts that make him so amazing. He will always want to be Sinclair's.

Sin. Fucking. Clair. His long lost brother. He almost misses him, but almost isn't enough. Not after what he did, and now it's time for Sin to pay a price for his decisions, that's been a long time coming. He had the right idea with Keman, though. Great minds think alike, and fools seldom differ. Mist is no fool.

Start with a human, one that wants to be a Rhenthar. Give him his lifelong wish, and then he'll worship you forever. Good slaves aren't found, only built. An old phrase, he thinks, walking down the hallway; optical scanners are at eyelevel next to each door. He stares into one, ruby laser light flickers against his vision and he hears a click, the door slides open. A dirty smell of fear hits him, Mist instructed the anti-serum for Erasmus to be administered moments ago, and the wake-up call has been severe.

A human stands in the center, a leash dangles from the ceiling, maglocked to his collar. It's been made too short to allow him to sit. He's naked and devoid of all his hair below the neck. What's on his head is only a couple of centimeters long, his facial hair is missing, and the fresh scent of depilatory stands in its place.

Mist walks up to him and grips his face in a paw, turning it left and right, looking closely for structural bone damage. What he has in mind will need strength in that area, the slave can't have any previous damage. The scent of fear rises even higher.

He informs the ship's sentient AI that he wishes to speak to the slave, and requires verbal responses. He nods at him once permission is granted. "Well. What do you have to say, human?" Contemptuous.

The slave reaches up and holds his hands protectively over the collar around his neck, almost like that can somehow save him from its effects. How amusing. "Uh. Er. What's there to say?"

" Do not answer my questions with more questions, or I'll make you hurt dearly ," he promises. "Tell me about your wishes. Tell me about your desires. Freedom will never be yours, but perhaps something better waits in the future. You're immune to Dee-eight. That sets you apart."

The human shakes his head, and Mist catches the barest whiff of surprise mixed with denial. This one certainly is new to all this, they often smell that way, in the beginning.

"What will you want to do with me?" Fear has twisted into terror, held only barely in check. He's undoubtedly imagining the horrors that can come to slaves.

"More questions, for me ?" Mist says. He glances up at the ceiling, "Sentient, I want-"

"Wait, wait ! I'll answer your questions, I'm sorry!"

Mist glares. "Well? I'm waiting," he bares his unnaturally sharp white teeth.

"I just wanted to find a girl, have some kids. Get a steady job, that's all I've ever wanted, stability. I could have had it, those tables at the casino, they're rigged! I spent weeks checking out that row. No winners, I should have been next. I should have been next..." he whispers the last part.

"Ugh. How boring." Mist brings up some details of this slave's indoctrination. He rarely does that. Gambling debts, ah. How... unfortunate. "Tell me, slave ," he pauses after the word, waiting for the next scent to hit him. And there it is: resentment. He often likes that part, with the new ones. A shame it never lasts, kind of like the scent of a new ship.

"Have you ever wanted to become something else?" He asks it casually, though the answer is so incredibly important to him right now.

"What do you mean- er, wait! I mean, yes , something other than this... Er, I don't understand!" Desperation creeps into the air. Pretty soon, this one will agree to anything Mist asks him to. He'll feel a false sense of security through a prospective buyer. Happens every time, until the pain begins...

"Have you ever wanted to become... one of us?" He gestures down at his own body with a flourish. The scent of incomprehension twists up a notch, then turns into disgust. Nope! This one won't do, he thinks.

He doesn't wait for a response, he merely turns around and leaves, the door slides shut behind him, locked. He briefly wonders what will happen to that slave, where he might end up next. He remembers what it was like to be in that position, once. Those thoughts fade quickly.

Behind Yellow Eyes: Chapter 4

Chapter 4. Marcus heaves the polymer distribution machine back onto its face, having just replaced its abrasive disc. That he is a mere janitor doesn't really bother him, this job at the biggest spaceport on the planet Tatchit was hard to get....

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Behind Yellow Eyes: Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Jack isn't a slaver technician director because of the sense of power he often feels. He doesn't mind the collar Ingen Corp requires him to wear for the duration of his employment. The constant struggle to treat other species, especially...

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Behind Yellow Eyes: Chapter 1

Chapter 1. Marcus winces as his grandfather sticks a needle into a vein in his arm, the third time this week. At this rate, they'll need to switch locations soon, otherwise he'll start looking like a tetrameth junky. "How are your studies in math...

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