Chapter 9

I bent slightly, my tongue stuck unconsciously out of the side of my mouth in concentration as I straightened out the ends of the scarf around the collar of Grant’s shirt. Eight of us were milling around nervously backstage, listening to the sounds of the underclass boys and their guests taking seats, talking, laughing. I smiled at last, satisfied with Grant’s identifying display. “There.” One of the dangling rumpled corners of the scarf bore the seal of the Academy. The other said, in small, stitched script, “Slave Grant.” Laney had dispatched Orson the day before to make a quick run back to the Academy with the scarves to get them personalized. With one exception, each of the senior fraternity boys was wearing his own scarf, the letters “Delta” and “Rho” displayed on the corners, while Larry and I were wearing scarves like Grant’s. Laney was dressed differently, in a yellow miniskirt, a form-fitting v-necked sweater in sky blue, and a yellow scarf tied around her bare neck—the formal outfit of Mu Pi Phi, “sister” sorority to Sigma Mu, Delta Rho’s biggest rival. The scarf nevertheless had “Slave Laney, Property of Delta Rho” stitched into its corners.

Grant smiled. “Nobody can read it out there anyway, hon.”

I grinned and shrugged. “It’s not about people seeing it. It just makes me feel more legal.” I brushed my fingers across “Slave Amy” on the scarf I was wearing. By law, no slave was allowed to wear clothes in such a way that his slave collar was covered up, as the shirt and scarf did to me. I felt confident that nobody would care at this private affair, but I agreed with Larry that the stitching on the scarves turned them into slave collars of sorts, just in case.

The clothes felt odd in any case, but somehow exhilarating. My dark-blue skirt was very short, but my long-sleeved white blouse concealed most of my upper body. I hadn’t been dressed in anything that covered up this much for two years. Our Academy uniforms covered our crotches and chests and not much more. All of the outfits at Academy parties were designed to be as sexy as possible—and often quite revealing. And I spent a lot of time at parties naked: while performing with Grant, or being “hostess” for whomever rented me at the auction afterwards. Tonight, I was dressed formally as a member of Upsilon Xi, Delta Rho’s sister sorority. It was indeed a kind of uniform, though the Upsilons only wore it on special occasions. At official university events. To classes during Spirit Week. Or tonight.

Dressing that way made me conscious of being a full participant in Laney’s hanging.

Grover looked at his watch and said quietly, “Let’s get in our places in about ten minutes.” The rest of us agreed.

Laney, holding Larry’s hand, turned to me and smiled. She giggled. “I know what I’m missing! There ought to be the sound of an orchestra tuning up!”

I laughed, trying to do it quietly. I looked at Laney’s face, amazed at the blaze of light that seemed to emanate from her. Miranda had looked the same when I met her, but I had not had years of intimacy with Miranda, to be able to fully appreciate the joy she had been radiating on that one culminating day of her life.

Laney let go of Larry for the moment and put her arms around me, pulling me tightly against her to rub her head against mine. I felt Laney’s energy flowing into me like an electric current. Just at the moment I felt fully charged, Laney released me and hugged Grant. Grant closed his eyes and held tight, and whispered “I love you” in Laney’s ear. I blinked; I didn’t remember Grant ever having said that to anyone but me before.

Laney turned to the one person in the room she’d known longest of all. Emil, dressed like the others except for the absence of any insignia at all on his scarf, was standing with his wife Kira, holding her hand. Laney gave Emil a long hug, then backed away slightly and kissed him.

Emil grinned at Laney, his eyes wide with wonder, still holding her loosely. “Laney ... I ... Well, being honest, I never really understood why you wanted ... this. But...” He looked around at everyone gathered, waiting to start the show, listened to the excitement building in the invisible audience. “I get it, now. I really do. I can’t really imagine how rewarding it feels, all this...” he gestured to indicate their surroundings, “ ... all for you, but I can see it in your face. You have what everybody should have, but it’s...” He shrugged. “ ... I don’t know, magnified a hundred times. And I am so proud of you. I know it was so much work to get here.”

A tear appeared at the corner of Laney’s eye, and she absently brushed it away. “That really means a lot to me. I wish I could give some of my happiness to you somehow.”

Emil laughed, a few tears of his own trickling down his cheek. “Oh, you have, Laney, really you have. And you too, Grant.” He turned to Grant. “I can’t say how special it is that you got me a chance to be here, and take Laney’s head home with me. You’re a very special person.”

Grant, his face reddening, whispered, “Thank you.”

Laney patted her brother’s hip. “What about you? What are your plans?”

Emil’s eyes widened. “Oh! With everything going on, we didn’t even get a chance to talk about that! Well...” He reached to the side to take Kira’s hand again. “We’re trying to have a baby. We talked about giving it about three years; if we don’t succeed by then, I’m going to get converted, with all our friends over.” He smiled and raised Kira’s hand, and rubbed his cheek against the back of it, then looked back at Laney. “Oh! And I was just thinking a minute ago—I guess I’d assumed all along that she’d just put a bag over my head with a nitrogen feed, but...” He bit his lip, and smiled. “I was thinking maybe she could hang me, with everybody watching. I know it wouldn’t be anything like your show, I probably would barely last a minute, but just thinking about it...” He shivered suddenly. “It seems like it could really be a lot of fun!”

Laney gaped at him. “That would be great! Oh, and there’s something you could do to get ready, if you really think you want to do it.” The glow in Laney’s eyes intensified even more. “I can’t tell you most of what I learned, even if there was time, but here’s something that’s public knowledge. Look in Widdell’s catalogue and order a neck trainer. That’s what it’s called. It’ll come with instructions. It’s just something you can use to build up your neck muscles. You’ll enjoy the hanging a lot more.”

Emil hugged her again. “Thank you so much! I’ll do that.”

Laney grinned at him, then suddenly said, “Oh! You’ve brought the jar with preserving fluid, right?”

Kira nodded. “It’s out in the car. Kind of heavy to lug it around.”

Laney nodded. “Just be sure to get my head in there quick. And leave it in there for three days...”

Kira smiled. “I know all that.”

“Of course, sorry.” She gave Kira a hug, just as Grover said, “Okay, let’s get in our places, everybody.”

Emil reached out and kissed Kira. “Just wait here for me, honey.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as the curtain started rising. I caught Laney’s eye; she grinned and gave me a quick thumbs up, then sat straight and still, waiting.

There was a row of three seats in front of me, with three senior Delta Rho boys, Lee, Kenny, and Harvey, sitting in them. My row consisted of me, Grant, and two more fraternity brothers: Alva and Kelsey. The seats were oriented facing partly toward the audience and partly toward center stage. Across a gap of six feet or so, a similar arrangement of seven seats faced me, again angled toward the center and the audience. Laney was in the center of the front row of that group, with Grover and Henley on either side of her. In the second row of seats, Shakir and Travis sat in the middle, with Larry and Emil at opposite ends, their relationships with Laney having earned them seats on Laney’s side of the stage.

The audience appeared to number about fifty. Most of them were Delta Rho boys, easily identified, even the few I hadn’t met: they were all in their formal outfits. Many had brought girlfriends, and in a few cases boyfriends, from outside.

Rather than taking any of the auditorium seats, all of them were standing just in front of the stage. I knew the phenomenon—guests at Academy graduate’s hangings usually tried to get as close to the action as they could.

The murmur of conversations seemed to grow rather than quiet at the raising of the curtain. The audience was too excited to stay still.

Grover, serving as director of the home-grown drama, gave a little gesture with his hand and a small head nod, signaling to Brendan, who entered from the left rear of the stage in a mincing walk.

Brendan, the only one of the senior Delta Rho boys onstage not dressed as a fraternity member, wore a light gray business suit, the white shirt underneath buttoned primly all the way to the top, but no tie. As he came forward, he had to sidestep the blanket-covered hanging platform near the back of the stage.

As soon as Brendan came into view, the audience erupted into appreciative laughter—they all instantly recognized his portrayal of a well-known and much loathed faculty member, Dr. Loomis, who taught the university’s Subling History course.

When Travis and Henley wrote the script, they had thought to have their Noosemeister play the role of Professor Loomis. But they had also wanted to see a woman hang; Loomis was a man. Also, even a male Noosemeister would have a hard time doing a convincing imitation of someone he’d never seen. Brendan, on the other hand, had kept his fraternity brothers in stitches for years with his imitations of various faculty members and administrators. Travis and Henley had decided to have the Noosemeister play a member of the hated Mu Pi Phi sorority.

The audience quieted as Brendan reached the space between the seated boys on either side. He began, in a nasal voice with a trace of foghorn, “Now, students...” The audience broke into laughter again, several of them applauding.

Brendan went on as the audience subsided, “Students, who can tell me the importance of Joan Riley in the Subling Rights Movement?”

Several boys raised their hands in a bored manner. Only Laney did so eagerly, waving it excitedly. Brendan looked solemnly in that direction, but said, “Yes, Shakir?”

Shakir responded with the answer everyone in the auditorium knew. “Sir, she was the first subling to attend high school.”

Brendan nodded and frowned slightly, and said, in what I had been assured was a dead-on impression of Dr. Loomis, “But is that really the whole story of her importance?”

The “students” all wore puzzled frowns—all except Laney, who was again waving her hand frantically, as if competing for attention with a roomful of other waved hands, rather than being the only one. Brendan nodded to her. “Elaine?”

“Sir, she attended high school by disguising herself as a topper. That gave other sublings the idea of pretending to be toppers, to get jobs.”

Brendan nodded and cracked a small Loomis smile. “Very good, Elaine. Now, did this work right away? Anyone?” He looked around.

Lee had his hand raised listlessly. When Brendan called on him, he said, “Yes, sir, toppers gradually realized that sublings could do the jobs just as well as toppers could.”

Laney seemed about to wrench her shoulder out of its socket with a renewed burst of handwaving. Brendan turned to her. “Elaine?”

Eagerly, Laney said, “Oh, that’s not really true, sir. At the beginning, any subling found impersonating a topper was executed and converted immediately. They even passed the Subling Identification Law to try to discourage sublings from trying to get jobs.”

Brendan nodded again. “Was the eventual success of sublings in the workplace a result of persistence?”

Lee raised his hand and was called on. “Yes, sir. Community organizers started spreading the idea of waiting until toppers stopped doing ID checks for hiring, and then they’d try it again. So over a period of years, it was ... almost like a game.”

The “students” murmured in assent, with nodding heads. Once more Laney raised her hand. Brendan called on her, and Laney said, “There was really more to it, sir. Some heads of major corporations decided that they could hire sublings more cheaply and make more money, because sublings worked just as well as toppers, as Lee said. I think most sublings today don’t even realize that sublings used to be paid less than toppers. Anyway, that was what finally made it work.”

Brendan beamed at Laney. “That’s very good, Elaine. Now, I think all of the rest of you should be doing your reading more closely. You have learned many of the surface facts, but with the exception of Elaine, you have not really dug deeply enough. Since the final exam is coming next Friday, I expect all of you to explore the subject more seriously.” He looked sternly to both sides, and said, “Class is dismissed,” before turning and leaving the stage.

The curtain fell, long enough to drag the chairs away to the sides of the stage and push two beds in from the wings. Grant and I, plus five of the senior boys, did most of the moving: the next scene involved only Laney’s four owners, with Larry and Emil. The six of them now draped themselves in elaborate poses of relaxation on the two beds. I watched from the wings, my hand resting on Laney’s left shoulder, absorbing more energy from Laney, Grant similarly resting his hand on Laney’s other shoulder, as the curtain was raised again.

As soon as the audience had had time enough to take in the scene, Henley raised himself on his elbows, his face a mask of gloom. “What are we going to do now? We’re barely passing Subling History as it is. If we don’t make it, they’ll keep us out of extracurricular activities.”

Shakir, in the same mood, added, “And take away our scholarships!”

Grover cursed. “We won’t even be able to stay in school!”

Travis moaned, “It’s that damned grading scale that old codger uses for the class! Basing everything on the highest score. I’ve talked to boys in last year’s class. There’s been times when a 70 average got you an A in the class, because nobody scored any higher than that. He figures it just means the tests were really hard. But that damned Elaine! She hasn’t scored below 95 yet!”

Shakir sighed theatrically. “I can just hear the professor now. ‘You could do as well as Elaine if you put your mind to it!’” Shakir’s imitation of Dr. Loomis was only a near approximation of Brendan’s. “We are putting our minds to it. It’s just not fair Elaine ended up in our class!”

Henley groaned. “We’ve just got to start studying.” He listlessly reached to the side and picked up his book.

Grover wondered, “Where do we even start?”

Travis answered, “Well, there’s sure to be stuff on Gerard Hollis on the test. There’s a whole chapter on him.”

Shakir shook his head. “That’s too easy. Every subling knows about him. We’ve been reciting that since first grade. ‘When we sublings give our lives... ‘ We need to study the more obscure stuff.”

Grover suddenly sat upright and shouted. “I’ve got it!”

The other five boys responded eagerly, “What?”

“I know how we can pass!” Grover looked around. “We just need to get Elaine to...” he paused. “ ... help us.” He giggled.

The others gathered in a huddle around him and, as he whispered in their ears, they nodded eagerly, and the curtain came down again.

I resisted the need to put my arms around Laney one last time. Our goodbyes were done, we had said everything to each other that needed to be said. All I could accomplish now would be to break her focus. As Laney walked to her spot on the stage, I sighed and said “I love you” under my breath, too softly for her to hear. It was something I only needed to say for myself. I picked up my sponge and took up my position with Grant.

In front of me, Larry had pushed the hanging platform to the front of the stage, lining it up carefully with the lines of gaffer tape on the floor. He looked up to the catwalk above, where Steadman, a junior in the fraternity, holding the loop of the noose in his hand, nodded that he was ready. Emil gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek, but aside from that avoided anything that would have interrupted Laney’s concentration.

The curtain was raised.

All fifteen boys were on the stage now, in much the same way as in the opening scene, but standing. Brendan had changed out of his severe-looking Dr. Loomis outfit and now wore the Delta Rho “uniform,” and occupied the spot between Grover and Henley, where Laney had been in the first scene. Laney herself stood between the two groups of boys, all of them facing her. We all stood with drinks in our hands. A haphazard scattering of tables and lamps gave the impression of the fraternity common room—the hanging platform played the role of one of the tables. A Delta Rho party was in progress. Laney alone was dressed as a Mu Pi Phi.

Laney raised her glass and pretended to drink from it—she’d had her last food and drink hours ago, and didn’t want any foreign substances coating her throat and possibly interfering with breathing. She beamed at the surrounding boys. “It’s so nice of you guys to invite me to the party!”

Travis said, “We just thought we should get to know you better, Elaine.”

“Oh, call me Laney, please. All my friends do. Does this mean we can be friends? I didn’t think you really liked me.”

Grover took a sip of his drink, not needing to pretend. “Well, we’re all in the same boat, you’d have to say. I mean, we’re all working to get through that class. Maybe somehow we can all help each other, Laney.”

Laney nodded eagerly. “It’s so great you feel that way! I mean, we may be from different fraternities, but we’re all sublings. We should always help each other any way we can.”

Henley responded, “That’s right! It’s like what Gerard Hollis said three hundred years ago. ‘We ... when we... ‘ “ He frowned. “How did that go again?”

Laney looked at him in open-mouthed surprise. “But every subling knows that credo! ‘When we sublings give our lives to help others live better, our lives are not lost at all. They are our gift to those around us.’”