Free Succession by Alicia Cameron

stammers. “I mean, I’m flattered, and I’m sure I would enjoy it, but….”
    “Sorry,” I say, once Sascha goes too long without speaking. I want to pull away, to hide from my own shame and inadequacy. Stick to mission. “I didn’t mean to presume. I just figured, even if you aren’t attracted to me, it’s dark, and I have been used for that quite a bit—”
    “No!” Sascha cuts me off. “Sy, it’s not that. I just don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do, and besides, my master doesn’t really like to share me, either. I guess that’s something the two of you have in common.”
    “Yeah,” I say, quiet. He’s nice enough not to reject me outright, but I realize what I must seem like to him. I’m a criminal, a lowlife. It’s been the same ever since I could remember, even before I was Demoted. Even if we weren’t separated by more than a decade, Sascha and I would never have been friends growing up. We wouldn’t even have lived in the same neighborhood. If he saw someone like me walking along his street at night, he would probably report me to the officials—even before I was Demoted. I’m using him. He’s confiding in me because I’m all he has, but he’d rather not associate with my type. I probably wouldn’t either, if I was in his position.
    “Look, if circumstances were different, I’d love to fool around with you, but right now… let’s just keep it at this, okay? You don’t owe me anything. You’re giving me so much already.”
    “All right,” I agree. I don’t believe him, but I don’t contradict him, either. We don’t talk after that, and he still presses tight against me as we sleep.
    I’ve learned to do what I have to do to survive, but something about Sascha makes me wonder if I could do it better.

    Lanza comes for me a few days later, his face a little sad. He’s always been a decent man, unlike many of the others. “Syrus, come with me. You have a visitor.”
    I stand to follow him, and Sascha does as well. I realize the dilemma I’m causing by leaving him; he’s at risk of harassment. I give Lanza a pleading look, something I’d never do for myself, but I’ll do for Sascha.
    Lanza frowns. “Sascha, you can spend a few hours in solitary to work on that attitude.”
    Sascha understands, looking grateful even as he’s taken to the small, dark cell. I’ve been in there for weeks, after earning my favor from Marvin, and I feel a chill at the sight of it. The utter darkness and isolation make you hallucinate and panic after long enough, and you can barely sit, let alone lie down. He won’t be comfortable, but he’ll be safe.
    I’m taken to one of the visiting rooms, where I’m greeted by one of my master’s associates. Conrad never liked me much, said I was too quiet and serious for his tastes. Alongside my master, he’s one of the leaders of the 27th Street Gang. I doubt I’m about to hear good news.
    “Your master has forfeited his rights to you,” he informs me. “You won’t be in here long, boy. Anything useful?”
    I nod. “Yes, sir.”
    “Well, what is it?” he demands.
    If I had told him immediately, he would have slapped me for speaking out of turn. “A slave, sir. He belongs to Oliver Torenze’s business partner. I’ve been protecting him.”
    Conrad looks surprised. “Cashiel Michaud’s boy?” he confirms. When I nod, he continues. “Not bad, Syrus. Looks like we might keep you around, after all. Mr. Argova will be pleased. Michaud has pissed off the whole world. Someone must be looking for information about what he’s doing. This could give the 27s a chance to move up. What do you have?”
    I consider it. Sascha has told me quite a bit about the research he and his master have been doing, Torenze’s role, their eventual goal. I could buy myself some time with this, win favor, resume my old role with the organization.
    But how long will it be before I’m right back where I am now, the same threat of death facing me?