My Kingdom Come book 1: The Saints We See

667 standard years after the signing of the Alliance

Mik walked into the room. Please use my service to bring life to my brothers, sisters and siblings. He knelt on the carpet between where his master and the others sat facing each other. “Good afternoon, master, sirs. How may I serve you today?” Lend me strength, queen of my heart. Send me your song.

“This is my famous slut, gentlemen.” Chentzo said. “You can try him out if you like, your application fee covers that. Strip, Slut.”

“Yes, master.” Mik rose smoothly to his feet and began to pull his shirt up. I will not fear the pain. He could feel the consternation of some of the men, but his master’s wishes came first.

“No. That won’t be necessary,” a stern voice said.

“Fine. But you’re missing all his finer points. Kneel, Slut.”

“Yes, master.” Mik pulled his shirt back on and knelt again. I will allow the pain to flow through me and teach me to become stronger. He wondered if the discomfort in the room would be eased once the General began to punish Mik.

That happened sometimes. Some clients were uncomfortable, unwilling to show their true desires in front of others until they saw someone else go first. Mik concentrated on the outcome of the coming pain. His body would learn, become stronger. I receive this gift with gratitude. He relaxed into what his master required of him: complete, mindless obedience.

“God’s Chentzo, what have you done to him? He looks like death,” General Kahn said in a shocked tone.

“I’ve done what I had to do to keep him in line, General.”

“Is he that much trouble?” asked a third voice.

“No. Really, the only trouble he’s caused was bonding and then hiding who he bonded to, and let me tell you that cost me a lot of cora. But other than that, he’s been a remarkably good boy. He’s eager to please. He’ll make you happy.”

Mik waited for a command to prove his master’s claim, but instead one of the men got up and came to stand in front of Mik. It was the third man, the one that Mik didn’t recognize.

Mik focused most of his attention on the man, looking for the slightest clue on how he could please him. There was something dangerous in his scent, something that made Mik’s body feel like it needed to run fast and far from this man. The man’s emotions felt wrong too. It was almost like his emotions were shielded, but they weren’t. Mik could feel the man’s reservation and disgust, not as strong as emotions normally were, but they were there, sharp and clear.

The man crouched down in front of Mik and his emotions softened. He gently pushed Mik’s chin up. Mik looked at his shoulder. The man lightly nudged his chin again and Mik raised his eyes to the man’s ear.

“Look at me.”

Mik swallowed. He had no idea what the man was after, but he couldn’t give him this. “Forgive me, sir-”

“Look at him, Slut.” Chentzo said in an irritated tone.

Mik swallowed again. He edged his eyes from the man’s ear to apple of his cheek, just below the man’s eye. He tried to raise his eyes that last inch to meet the man’s gaze, but he couldn’t.

First Chentzo, then Vittesh had brutally conditioned Mik to avoid meeting a free sentient’s gaze at all costs. He would be punished anyway but Mik couldn’t bring himself to cross that line. He prayed that he had raised his eyes high enough to satisfy the man. He could see on the edge of his vision that man’s irises were purple. Mik’s breath hitched slightly. The few sessions he’d had with purple eyed Ir’Klahn had been especially brutal. Their condition seemed to make them insatiably violent and cruel.

The man sighed quietly, but he didn’t nudge Mik’s chin again. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Slut, sir.”

The man’s face twitched and disgust sparked faintly from him. “You’re already bonded to someone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why haven’t they bought you?”

Mik swallowed. “I can only assume they’re unable to, sir.”

“You’re not angry at them?”

“No, sir.”

“Why?”

Mik was not prepared to answer such personal questions. His job was to say and do whatever would please his clients, but he had no idea what this man wanted. Panic started in his chest. If I fail to please this man, Vittesh will put me through another training session. His eyes dropped, he jerked them back up to just below the man’s eye. The truth spilled out of his mouth. “I…I trust them.”

The man frowned. “They abandoned you here to be tortured.”

Was that a question? Am I supposed to respond?

“Didn’t they?” The man pressed.

“I trust that they did their best, sir. My memories have been modified. I don’t know why they…they didn’t come for me,” Mik lied. He remembered very clearly that last breakfast on the ship with Isca when Dachvinder had asked how much Mik cost and Isca had assured him that his hive couldn’t afford to buy Mik.

“How can you say that? They used you, burned the memories out of your mind, and deserted you.”

The man’s anger was pushing towards the surface. There was something especially primal and dangerous about his anger. This added to the confusion and panic that was slowly filling Mik. He didn’t understand the purpose of these questions, but he still had to give an acceptable answer. Once again the truth tumbled out of his mouth. “I burned the memories out of my mind, sir. I chose this path.”

The man blinked. “You modified your memory?”

“Yes, sir.” Was that the wrong answer? Mik wished the man would give him any kind of clue to help him understand what he wanted.

The man frowned. He turned to look at Chentzo.

“From what we can tell, he did modify his own memory, yes.” Chentzo’s voice was sour.

The man looked back at Mik frowning. “Do you want to be bought?”

“Yes, sir. Very much.” Mik swallowed convulsively. Was this man interested in buying him? He did have purple eyes, but Mik had never had either a client or a prospective buyer who was this gentle or attentive with him.

“Don’t you resent being born a slave? I would.”

“I…” Mik’s breathing went shallow. This felt like a trap. He began turning to glance towards Chentzo, the man caught Mik’s chin and pulled his gaze back to himself. Terror pulsed through Mik’s body. What does master want from me right now? He was not allowed to ask for clarification. He was only allowed to to obey.

Mik’s mind spun. He always tried his best to be good, to avoid the need for punishment, but sometimes master wanted to punish him. Sometimes the only way to obey was to fail. I don’t want to fail, I don’t want to need more training. Please, gods. A sob rose up in his chest, but Mik kept it contained. He forced himself to focus, to breath calmly. My service belongs to the gods. As long as I serve life I cannot fail.

“You what?” The man asked.

If master wanted Mik to fail, he couldn’t avoid it. Accept my service, gods, I beg of you. “Everyone serves somehow, sir.”

The man cocked an eyebrow. “I suppose that’s true. But you have no rights. How can you be okay with that?”

Please use my suffering to bring life to my brothers, sisters and siblings. “The gods will make it right, sir.”

The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “The gods? You think the gods will save you?”

“Yes, sir.” I will not fear the pain. The tightness in his chest began to ease.

The man frowned. Mik could feel a complex mix of anger, pity and disgust coming from the man. “I heard that you were raised free, but when the Jurverian came for you, you turned yourself over to them?”

“Yes, sir.” I will allow the pain to flow through me and teach me to become stronger.

“Why? Did you want to be a slave?”

Again, Mik had nothing to offer except the truth. “No, sir. They were killing my father, I hoped to save him. Surrendering myself didn’t save him, but I realized anyone that ever helped me again would suffer. I chose to accept suffering rather than inflict suffering on others.” I receive this gift with gratitude.

The man swallowed. His eyes shut for a moment, then he opened them again. He took a deep breath. “Why do you want to be bought?”

The reasons he was so desperate to be bought flooded into Mik’s mind. The tightness returned to his chest, squeezing harder than before. He swallowed and harshly pushed all the reasons that he wanted a new master away. That truth was not something he could say out loud. Vittesh would use it to destroy him.

Mik tried to think back to how he had felt in the weeks leading up to the day he was supposed to be sold at auction over a year ago. “I…I want a master to devote myself to. I want to bring peace and ease into my master’s life. I want…” I want to feel safe and appreciated. Tears filled Mik’s eyes. He bowed his head. But what I want isn’t important. “I’m sorry, sir.” He took a deep calming breath, but his anxiety would not calm. Mik was failing his master. He was not serving his purpose here, he had no idea what this man wanted from him, so he couldn’t give it.

Vittesh would cancel all of Mik’s scheduled sessions. He would punish Mik until his master was satisfied, then Vittesh would take however long he thought was necessary to put Mik through another session of training. Another little piece of Mik’s soul would die. Mik returned to the only comfort he had, his preparation ritual. Gods…please accept my service…

The man lifted Mik’s chin, then gently held it there. “What? You want what? Be honest with me.”

MIk’s gaze landed just below the man’s eye again. Be honest? Mik’s breath hitched. Was it that simple? He couldn’t feel any duplicity from the man. Did he simply want honesty? Honesty would not please master, but Mik was required to obey, to serve his clients wishes. There was no correct answer. Mik would be punished. The only choice he had was what he would be punished for: disobeying his master, or dissatisfying his client.

The man waited patiently. His fingers still lightly holding Mik’s chin so that he wouldn’t look away.

Mik let out a shuddering breath. I obey. “I…I want to be something my master prizes because I’m useful to them.”

“Useful?”

“Yes, sir.”

The man’s face grew dark. His purple eyes searched Mik’s face. There was almost no color left in them; the pupils had almost entirely overtaken his irises. Mik didn’t know how the man was this calm, when he was so close to losing control to his prime.

“I’m not a good man. I don’t want to hurt you, but eventually I would hurt you. I could easily kill you without meaning to.” The shame and self loathing that came from him was stronger than any other emotion Mik had felt from the man.

How can he believe he’s not a good man? Maybe he wasn’t a good man, after all he did have purple eyes, but he was the most considerate sentient who had ever shown interest in Mik.

He was a man worth suffering for.

I obey.

Something inside Mik relaxed. I will not fear the pain. He raised his eyes that last inch. The purple eyes widened slightly as Mik met their gaze.

“Sir, my only purpose here is to receive pain in exchange for cora. I’m kept so busy at this task that there is no time for me to eat or sleep. There is a price for my death, it has been asked for and given in my presence many times. One day the sentient who asks will be willing to pay that price, and my life will be theirs to take in any way they please.

“As awful as all this is I’m not really afraid of pain or of dying. I’ve been afraid that I would die without ever feeling a gentle touch or hearing a kind voice again. You’ve given me both today. For that alone I would be grateful to serve you faithfully for the rest of my days. Even if you had nothing else to give me except pain, even if you took me home and killed me today, I would surrender my life to you with thanks on my lips. You’re the kindest man that has ever shown interest in me. To serve you would be my pleasure and honor.”

A deep and desperate hunger flooded out from the man. “Fuck.” Revulsion and dismay quickly followed by anger filled him drowning out the hunger. He looked away then rose to his feet.

Mik lowered his head. His punishment would begin at any moment.

Oddly enough, he felt no fear. His punishment would be for accepting the moment of freedom he had been given by this man. Mik had looked a free sentient in the eye and spoken truth, from his heart. Warmth spread through his chest. His shoulders relaxed. I receive this gift with gratitude.

The man with the familiar scent spoke up. “It would be a kindness to him, Hathu. His life here is hell. And he’s right, you are a good man.”

Hathu? The son of the insurrectionist? The boy that General Kahn hated so much?

Hathu laid his hand lightly on Mik’s head. “Do you know what condition I have?”

Mik’s mind ran quickly through the brief explanation Vittesh had given him before Mik had had his first purple-eyed client. “I think so, sir. Your body over produces venom and makes it difficult for you to contain your…your primal side?”

“Yes. Would you be able to help me contain my prime? Keep it under control?”

Are you interested in buying me? Mik’s mind spun. He thought back to what his body had learned from the other purple eyed clients he’d had. Hathu’s prime felt much more powerful than the other’s Mik had encountered, but he wanted to serve this man, even if it was dangerous. “Yes, sir. I- I’ll do my best sir and I’m willing to learn.” Please, let me serve you at least once, for your kindness to me.

“He can be trained, Hathu.” The man that seemed to be Hathu’s friend interjected.

Hathu’s hand left Mik’s head. “He’s…it’s so much cora.”

“Don’t worry about the cost, Hathu. Will you take him?”

Mik knew he shouldn’t hope. Gods, please. Allow me the honor of devoting my life to serve this man. Please.

“Why are we even giving him a choice? There’s no choice to be made. We need Hathu sober, now.” General Kahn said.

“It’s a commitment no one else can make for him. He’ll have to own the boy, in case he…in case there’s an accident.” There was an oddly deep sadness that accompanied the words of Hathu’s friend.

Please, gods. Let him say yes.

The general make an exasperated sound. “If you don’t take the boy, Fons, we’re going to give you one of my choosing.”

“Fuck you, general,” Hathu growled.

Please. I beg you.

Hathu took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry my medication is…are…are you sure abou-”

“I’m sure, Hathu. My prince is adamant.” Hathu’s friend replied.

There was a long silence.

Mik’s fingernails sliced into his palms. Gods, please…have mercy on me.

“Yes. I’ll take him.”

A wave of dizziness washed over Mik. He stared blankly at the carpet. Is it over? Is this a dream? Is it a trick? His body informed him that he had stopped breathing. He took a breath, then another. A hand touched his head and he startled. The hand lifted and Mik flinched slightly, but no blow followed. Guilt flooded him. He was never allowed to lose focus on the sentients he was serving, and now that he had found a sentient he was eager to please, he had allowed his focus to waver. “Forgive me, sir.”

“What’s your name?”

Hathu didn’t sound angry, but Mik promised himself he would never fail his duties to this man again. “My name is Slut, sir.”

“No, what name did you have before the Jurverian captured you? Do you want to keep it?”

Mik swallowed. Another feeling of unreality washed over him. Please, don’t let this be a dream. “I would be proud to carry any name that you give me, sir, but the name I had before I became a slave was M-” his throat locked. Mik swallowed and forced the syllables past his lips. “Mikhail Galorson.” Without thinking he braced himself for a blow, but this one didn’t come either.

“His name is Mikhail Galorson.” Hathu said to Chentzo.

“Do you want me to put Mikhail Fons, or Mikhail Galorson Fons on the paperwork?” Chentzo asked.

“No. Fons is the name of a monster and criminal. I’m not putting that burden on him too. His name is Mikhail Galorson, put that on his paperwork.”

“Of course.”

Mik knelt there on the floor in a daze as the contract was carefully gone over. His ears sharpened when Chentzo explained Mik’s Jurverian protection. Hathu asked a few questions and then Chentzo moved to the next clause, and then the next. The paper work was signed. The three Ir’Klan rose to go.

Mik hesitated to raise from his knees. What if the moment I stand to follow Hathu, Vittesh walks in laughing, ready to punish me?

Hathu touched Mik’s head softly. “Come on, Mikhail. Let’s go home.”

“Yes, s- Yes, master.” Mik rose to his feet and followed Hathu out of the room.

They walked down the hall to the elevator. Vittesh was waiting. He passed his cuff over the elevator scanner. Mik kept his eyes on the floor, sharply aware of Vittesh’s gaze on him.

The elevator doors opened. Mik followed Hathu into the elevator, his heart pounding.

General Kahn pressed a button.

The doors shut. The elevator went up.

Mik began to shake. His chest was tight, his breathing slightly ragged. He was closer to the sun than he had been since the day Chentzo had first brought him here, right after his unfruitful visit to Jahon.

Please, let this really be happening.