Free A Superior Slave (Ganymede Quartet Book 0.5) by Darrah Glass

Mr. Jacob told them, meaning the stage where they’d be standing as they were sold off.
    “Do any of you have questions?” Mr. Elliott asked, head cocked. “Any questions for us? For Mr. Paulsen?”
    Martin had so many questions, but they were all unformed and panicky, wordless and grasping, and it seemed the others were equally inarticulate, as no questions were forthcoming. Mr. Elliott sighed once again and he and Mr. Jacob ushered them back to their dormitory room.
    “See here,” Mr. Elliott said brusquely. “Fresh decks of cards. When’s the last time any of you saw a complete deck?” There were four decks total, and it seemed luxurious to have cards that were clean and unbent. It was novel to have cards that originated from the same pack, all the backs the same. Toys and games on the farm were used hard and were often broken or incomplete. Mr. Jacob gave them boxes of matches to use as counters and four games of poker started up immediately.
    Martin didn’t want to play poker and hung back. Mr. Jacob touched Martin’s elbow. “You so love to read,” Mr. Jacob said. “We have books and magazines here that you won’t have seen at the farm, if you’re interested.”
    “I’m interested, Mr. J.”
    Mr. Jacob showed him to a low bookshelf with the last three annuals for American Adventure , a few issues of Wayfarer , and a coverless book that appeared to be a shipwreck story. Martin picked up a Wayfarer and flipped it open, but then Mr. Jacob took his elbow and bade him to sit on the nearest cot.
    “I saw your face earlier,” Mr. Jacob said. “When they were discussing your weight. Please try not to worry about it, Martin. You’re a lovely boy, and you’re not too thin at all. We’ve always known you’ll need to work to keep weight on, though, and you’ll need to continue that out in the world, all right?”
    “Are you sure I’m not too thin, Mr. J? They seem so unhappy with me…”
    “It’s part of their job to anticipate the complaints the prospectives might have, that’s all.”
    “They like Stuart so much better, though, Mr. J. They all think he should be top boy.”
    “ You are best-suited to this role of any boy here,” Mr. Jacob said in a tone that brooked no argument. “Stuart is a good boy and an excellent companion, there’s no question, but you’re definitely our top candidate, and Mr. Elliott and I will endeavor to make sure the salesmen understand that before tomorrow morning, all right? Don’t let doubts creep in, Martin. You’re going to make us so proud.” He clapped Martin on the shoulder and left him sitting slumped on the cot, a magazine open on his lap, though he felt reading would be quite impossible now.
    He hoped Mr. Jacob was right. He knew he’d have the highest reserve price, and he worried a little that no one would want him enough to pay it. He worried that Stuart would surpass him, and it wasn’t so much that he begrudged Stuart, but he wanted to really be top boy and bring in the best price, and it was seeming more and more possible that a towering, bespectacled scarecrow of a boy wasn’t going to be worth the astonishing sums people paid for companions.
    Someone plopped down on the cot at his side, leaning heavily against him, and Martin turned to see Georgie at his shoulder.
    “Are you more excited, or are you more terrified?” Georgie asked with a rueful smile. “I don’t seem to be able to tell the difference any more.”
    Martin smiled in return, grateful for Georgie’s cheer. “I think I’m the same. But with all the things the salesmen were saying, I got a little spooked…”
    “Ugh,” Georgie said, waving a dismissive hand. “I don’t think they saw anything good about any of us. Did you see? They made Noah cry.”
    “I didn’t see,” Martin admitted. “What do they think is wrong with Noah?” Martin didn’t like Noah, but Noah was handsome and smart and accomplished—it was only his personality that was horrible.
    “They were