The streets were quiet as the dark of night lifted ever so slightly. At times, it was my favorite part of the day, walking in the silence of the city as if no one else existed; no commitments, no obligations, no worries. On other days, it was a weight holding me down with the impending dawn forcing me to action, driving me from the safety of the shadows, creating a need to decide on a course.

Today was the latter sort.

As much as I wanted to soak in the remainder of the night, dawn would not wait. Obligation drove me to turn toward home, though even that peaceful shelter was an illusion. Aurora would still be asleep, maybe dreaming of our two years together. Dawn and my arrival home would bring the end to our interlude.

I was surprised to see a light on when I arrived.

“Cosimo! I’m so glad you’re home,” Aurora said as she greeted me in the portico leading past our joint home office and into the small courtyard of the house.

I smiled and enjoyed her warm hug. She was still in a loose night gown that clung to her trim figure. She had barely changed her appearance in the past two years. She fell just short of being classically beautiful until she smiled. To me, it did not matter if she shared a slight grin, a twitch of her lips, or a full-on smile; when her smile touched her lips and eyes, I was lost to her.

Which was probably what my grandmother feared.

Obligation.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Work and family,” I said, wishing I could say more, but failing to find the right words.

“Did something happen at the club?”

In addition to starting my collegium career, I had entered the family business, “interning” at the Amorphedita Club where we had first met. I had begun learning the management and operations of the club as an assistant house manager learning to interact with and manage the supporting staff and the indentured servants. It was not very exciting work, but critical to the overall operation of the club. Once I had proven myself capable of managing the staff with some supervision, I had been promoted to be one of the house night managers. I had yet to interact directly with patrons or guests, but I knew how to handle the staff of employees and slaves for the club.

“You could say that,” I said as I let her guide me toward the kitchen at the back of the house. She already had coffee started.

Once we sat with our cups, I took a deep breath before telling her. “I’m transferring to Cardino.”

Aurora frowned. “But you’re enrolled here. That’s nearly a day away by train.”

I nodded. “I will be transferring to the extension campus there. It’s all been arranged. Grandmother’s doing.”

We both understood family commitments. Aurora was expecting to move to the Capital for the next session of the Senate, to become a page for her father, who was considered the favorite to be elected the next emperor. If our current head of state was not in failing health or could last another 20 years, it was entirely possible Aurora would be the person ascending to the purple robes. She was definitely training for it. I had hoped that possibility would entice my grandmother to let us continue our relationship, at least until I graduated in three more years.

Aurora kept her own counsel for several minutes, sipping her coffee.

“My father sent word last night that he wanted me to come to the Capital ahead of the session opening. I think this timing is hardly coincidence.”

Her news surprised me. Both of our families made decisions to separate us. It was highly unlikely that their decisions had been coordinated.

“Our families don’t want us forging a lasting relationship,” I said.

“How can you say that?”

“We both are told we’re leaving the city for family reasons. You are going to the Capital and I’m being sent the opposite direction. They know if only one of us moved, we could stay together. This way, it will be much harder to see one another.”

“But not impossible, if we both work at it,” she countered.

I shook my head. “There’s more. I’m being promoted. I’ll be a shift manager for the club there. I’ve already been told I will be working everyday except first-day and seventh-day, and will be on-call on my off days for the next year. Add in evening courses at the campus and I won’t be able to visit or spend time if you came to me.”

Aurora’s lip twitched, then she frowned. “Why are they against us?”

“Politics,” I spat.

We never really discussed the relationship between our families. Aurora had been careful to not ask which unnamed family ours was, but given my relationship to the Amorperdita Club, it was not hard to guess. Our family was one of the counters to excess in the senate or emperor. We were the assassins and executioners. No one really thought about how we met our obligations.

In the abstract, I could understand my grandmother’s concern. Could I kill the father of my lover if he rose to the purple and became a despot? Could I dispassionately condone attacking Aurora if her family tried to expand their power? Conversely, if it became known Aurora had some sway with our house, would others fear we would become the emperor’s secret police? There was a reason our house lived in the shadows.

We were given great responsibility and power, but it came with a steep price in terms of obligations. Social opportunities with other families were part of that price.

“What will we do?” Aurora asked softly. “I rely on you so much more than I’ve let on.”

I nodded. I felt the same way. While we had an incredible physical relationship, it was the unspoken support she provided me that I cherished the most.

“I’ll always love you,” I said finally. “Perhaps in a decade, we’ll be in different places in our lives. For now, we both have obligations we need to meet.”

Her eyes held tears as she nodded.

“What had you up so early?” I asked, hoping to change the topic.

“I’m on the 16:00 train to the Capital. I wanted to catch up with you and hoped for a grand send-off before I had to start packing and you caught some sleep,” she said sadly.

I stood, rounded the table and knelt to hug her. There was a small shudder to her breath as she sagged against me for a moment. Then her back straightened.

“Will you take me to the station?” she asked, not looking at me.

“I would if I could,” I answered. “I’m to attend the auction at 14:00 and have a carriage reserved to move twenty new club acquisitions to Cardino on the 18:00 train.”

She shook her head. “I’m going to have words with my father when I see him tonight,” she said crossly. “He may be the head of our family, and might be the next emperor, but he could give us more than a few hours to say goodbye.”

“He probably gave it as much consideration as my grandmother,” I said, trying to keep the anger from my own voice. “The person I’m most irate with is my mother, and she’ll be here at noon to make sure I have the minimum I need ready to be shipped.”

Aurora stood and melted against me. Her body felt amazing through the thin fabric of her night clothes. She tipped her head back for a long, passionate kiss and then pulled away.

“We had best both get busy if we’re not going to be found in bed, totally unprepared to move when she gets here,” she said with a smile.

By the time I met the security team at the civic auction, I was tired, frustrated, and sexually exhausted. Aurora and I had always gotten on well in the bedroom. Mother’s packing assistance began just after I showered and managed to get a couple of traveling trunks carried up from our storage room. Thank goodness we did not have to pack everything for a full move. Aurora’s family owned our house and all but one of the staff had been procured from the club.

Mother would oversee the closing of the house for us. She acted as if she was surprised by the dual move, but I knew better. She had to have been the source of information to my grandmother. The fact that she was in the city instead of in our capital estate told me everything I needed to know about her fore-knowledge.

The monthly slave and debtor auction was never a warm place. It seemed especially somber today as I took a seat on the hard stone benches alongside the head-high transparent barrier surrounding the sale floor. Six sturdy men and women from the club were one row behind me, ready to help move twenty hapless souls from here to Cardino on the over-night train. Samhir, our regular buyer was sitting next to me, ready to help select candidates that would fit the club’s needs. As we waited for the first lot to be brought onto the floor, he chatted with me about the needs in Cardino.

“The chapter did not specify a mix,” he said softly against the background buzz of conversation. “They insisted on twenty, any mix acceptable, but no untrained V-I’s over forty.”

In our world, a person could sell themselves voluntarily to cover private or public debts. A typical voluntary indenture was a seven year term, or some multiple of seven. With rummors of the emperor’s failing health, some desperate people were seeking indenturement to capitalize on the traditional jubilee at an ascension. It was a gamble, but for desperate people, selling yourself to servitude to erase your debts and then having all voluntary indentures released on the raising of a new emperor might not be a horrible idea.

“Do we want any voluntaries for the club?” I asked. It would not do our bottom line any good to make a purchase and see it walk out the door free in the next year or so.

Samhir smiled and nodded. “Very good, Cosimo.” We were on a first name basis from my time at the club. As one of the house managers, I had frequent interactions with our buyer to discuss purchasing needs. “No, we should avoid VI’s unless there is a specific skill we are looking for. Many of our staff started as voluntaries. In fact, I did myself.”

I was surprised.

The heavy-set man smiled at my reaction and nodded. “I don’t talk about it much, but I got in trouble as a young man, and made some bad decisions. I didn’t see another way out of my debts and came to an auction. Thank the gods that Old Ambrose saw something in me. I won’t say I enjoyed all of my time working the club, but when my indenture was up, I had good skills and was offered a permanent place on staff. In the end, selling myself was the best thing I could have done to get ahead.”

“I never knew,” I said.

The jovial buyer laughed. “Let’s keep it amongst ourselves, if you please. I know you’ll go far in the organization. Just remember sometimes it helps to understand the staff, especially the indents. That’s why all of you management types start on the house staff side. We want loyal servants, employees, and slaves. Treating them as well as we can is the cornerstone of building that loyalty.”

While Samhir was not talkative in the office, here, it seemed like he wanted to regale me with stories. “So what should we look for?” I asked before he could share more.

He glanced that the sale bill. “We may want the first lot,” he said. “It looks like it will be a block of some criminal indentures. Usually the CI’s are a better class of worker. Plebes or low guilders with skills that we can use. They’ve been sentenced, so we’ll have at least seven years to work them. Depending on the crime, it could be lifers. Those we need to be careful of, since some lifers will be trouble for us to manage.”

I nodded. I had been to the auctions before and knew how things worked, but had not felt the weight of responsibility for the selection before. I had never given a thought to purchasing a hardened criminal who was looking at life as a slave. Of course, the violent and truly vile criminals all came to the club through a different door. The Black Wing handled those executions.

“Does the crime matter, or just the duration?” I asked as I glanced at my watch. The auctions were late starting.

“Duration is most important, followed by the crime. A nice guilder accountant charged with embezzlement will drive a high price. They aren’t violent, have a long indenture and have a skillset that many businesses or households can use. A maid charged with petty-theft will have few skills outside of the basics, and probably only a seven year term, so she might not fetch much. Of course, if she is pretty, that might change things.”

I nodded. “And we don’t know what sort are in this first lot?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Usually, they will have some indicator.” He flipped to the last lot of the sale bill and pointed. “3-CI-7-NV-MFF-lot. This tells us the last lot is three criminal seven-year indentures, non-violent, one male, two females, sold as single lot. Most likely, that is a family unit sentenced as a whole.”

“Why isn’t there any information on the first few lots?” I asked. “It just says 14-CI-mixed.” The second entry was 37-CI-14-mixed. The third 22-CI-7-mixed.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” he replied. “I heard a little rumor this morning that there were some late night arrests day-before, some hush-hush deliveries to the Black Wing, and a bunch of overnight sentencing by the magistratum. Something big might have happened.”

“Can we exploit that?”

“Maybe. You’ve got a good head for the strategy of this part of the business, Cosimo. You’re asking smart questions. Most young managers that I bring are more interested in sampling attractive wares here, than thinking about the business implications.”

I shook my head. I suspected I knew who would want to come to an auction and ‘sample the wares’. There were some people I would not miss with the move to the new club in Cardino.

“I hope those types don’t last too long with us.”

Samhir smiled and nodded. “Let’s just say I give a detailed report to Rosalind on them.” Rosalind was the managing director of the club here. I had met her exactly twice, and would not want to land on her bad side. She was an imposing woman who tolerated no nonsense at work. It was rumored that her tongue was sharper than a flaying whip. She expected perfection from herself and tolerated no less from the staff.

“I hope you will speak kindly of me, then.” I knew the managing directors of the clubs talked frequently. I also knew grand mother had selected or approved each of them for promotion within the organization. Someday, that role may fall on my shoulders.

Samhir slapped my back and laughed. “I’ll be sure to give you a glowing report, so long as we get you and your transfers to the station on time.”

We both looked at the auction booth and the clock on the wall near it. The start of the auction was nearly forty minutes late.

“How long to move twenty to the station and board them?” I asked.

Samhir shrugged. “With luck, two hours once we clear the sale barn door. What time is your train?”

“Eighteen,” I answered. “How long to process them out of here?”

“Maybe an hour,” Samhir answered.

“So, if they don’t start soon, we’ll not make our train.” I said.

Samhir shrugged. “We always have the holding pens at the club, if needed. Tomorrow’s train may be the only option.”

He did not know my grand mother, I thought.

“What would Rosalind say if a new day manager was a day late reporting in?” I asked.

“She is reasonable,” Samhir said. “But it would be a mark against them if anything suggesting poor planning or execution happened again.”

I nodded. “I will be on that train today, and I will have twenty new slaves with me. Go find the auction master, would you?”

I was surprised he jumped at my command. In theory, he was superior to me so long as I was in the city in my current role. If I were a shift manager here, he would be my peer, organizationally speaking. For a moment, I wondered just how close he was to Rosalind. She had informed me of my promotion shortly before dawn this morning. She, at least, had to know I was more than a promising young manager.

It took nearly five minutes before a small, fat, sweating woman came back with Samhir. I stood and met them in the aisle.

“Cosimo, this is Margo, today’s manager. I told her of our dilemma.”

“There’s nothing I can do about the timing. We had to wait until the transport from the magistratum arrived. They’re unloading now and getting them stripped for the first batch.”

“What’s the lot?” I asked.

“Mixed, all criminal with life. All non-violent. I don’t have the splits yet, that’s the other thing we’re getting sorted.”

I thought about it for a second and glanced at Samhir. “What’s the average for one of them here?” I asked.

“Usually, One-ten for a lifer CI,” Samhir said. “No skills, old, and ugly would go as low as fifty. Top I’ve ever seen is six-twelve, and that was a once in a lifetime auction with an Aristo bidding on his disgraced, pregnant mistress against his recently divorced wife.” He shook his head and smiled. “It cost that man a lot to keep his bastard from his ex.”

Margo was nodding, as if she remembered that auction. The house would make five percent of any sale, so that was probably a memorable day for her.

“I’ll go one-twelve each for the first twenty who are under forty in the lot, sight unseen, if they can be turned out in the next fifteen minutes,” I said. It was a gamble, but I could not think of a better way to meet my arbitrary schedule.

Samhir gave me a sharp look, then nodded. I knew he had to sign-off on the purchase.

Margo eyed me, then glanced at Samhir who suddenly had a stone face. She looked back at me. “First twenty, under forty, no arguing?” she asked.

I nodded.

She smiled and extended her hand for a shake on the deal.

“Get your troops around back. We’ll count them out together. You’ve got transport?” she asked.

I nodded. The club had a sealed transport that would take us all to the station. My travel trunks were already aboard.

Minutes later, another auctioneer was notifying the crowd of the delay and that the starting price for the day had been set. By tradition, the first sales of an auction established the starting price for the remainder of the sale, adjusted for the condition of the goods. There were a few groans in the crowd, mostly from bargin hunters, but I ignored them as I got security moving toward the holding pens.

The front of the sale barn was always clean, quiet, and had a sense of decorum as lives were sold. The back areas were an entirely different story. As soon as we passed through the sound dampening barrier and two thick doors, the din of wailing and angry shouts was clear. There were several empty holding pens, looking like large jail cells nearest the door. Those a little further away held subdued occupants huddled together. Signs like those in the sale bill hung by each door.

4-VI-7-MFFF-lot hung next to an obvious family selling themselves to be free from debt. The two adults in the group stood protectively behind their daughters, trying to ignore the noisy sound of sobs and occasional whip cracks coming from deeper in the barn. I tried not to stare at them, wishing them to retain what little dignity they had. Perhaps the jubilee would come early and give them a reprieve.

“Here’s as good a place as any,” Margo said as she stopped before a large cell and motioned to several of the sale guards trying to hurry the stripping of a large group of criminals garbed in bright orange coveralls. Based on the pile of discarded coveralls and the milling mass of still-clothed bodies, I could understand the delay if these had all just arrived from the magistratum. There had to be nearly forty people still in orange and another thirty or more naked, huddled toward the far end of the pen.

With coarse efficiency, guards placed movable barriers into regular slots on the floor, creating a pathway from the end of the pen to the one we stood beside. There was one gate into another pen which Margo stationed herself by.

“Col!” she shouted to one of her guards. “Run us out five at a time. Only marked ones. Be quick about it.” Her shout got a nod from the guard and surprisingly quieted a lot of the unrest in the pen. A moment later, there was the clang of a door and five naked bodies coming down the chute toward Margo and myself. The leader was a man, larger than me, with a barrel chest and strong legs. He seemed unconcerned about his lack of clothes. The number 38 was visible on his chest, just below his left collar bone. He slowed at Margo and looked daggers at me. I nodded and Samhir counted “One,” loudly.

The next was a woman, trailing behind the man. She was not nearly as proud of her body, and tried to cover her breasts and privates with her hand as she hustled along. She had a “39” on the top of her left breast, closer to her shoulder than the man had.

“Two,” Samhir counted.

And so it went. The fourth was a boy, barely shoulder high though the number on his chest claimed he was fourteen years old. The woman behind him had a 42 above her breast. Margo stopped her and sent her to the other pen. She began wailing for “her boy” who was coming with us. I hardend my heart at Samhir’s glance. If we had time and I could inspect the entire lot, perhaps things would end differently. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time. Obligation.

By the time there were fourteen in our pen and six in hers, I was ready for the process to be over. I understood the law. I understood the role servitude played in our society, possibly better than the vast majority of our citizens. None of that made me like it.

“Next batch!” Margo called.

I sighed and forced myself to watch the procession. Third in the group was an attractive woman, blonde, reaching behind her to pull along another, who I guessed was her daughter. I saw the “40” on her breast, wondering if it was accurate. Then I spotted the end of the line. A beautiful blonde mane of hair I had not seen in nearly two years.

“Lexi,” I muttered. “What have you done?”

I hid my shock and nodded as Samhir counted them off. We had nineteen. Before Margo could run another batch out, I motioned to her.

“Give us the boy’s mother, and we’ll call it good,” I said as I motioned to the still sobbing woman in the second pen. Margo scowled, but then nodded. She probably realized it would raise the starting price for the above forty lots she still needed to sell.

Minutes later, the pen door was closed and Samhir and I were following Margo to the office as our guards unbundled slave shifts and started handing them out, along with collars and cuffs.

Samhir handed me the tracker pad as our new property was sorted. Our guards, all of them former indentures, were efficient and as compassionate as time allowed as they collected a drop blood from each slave, recorded the information in their work pads, and then clasped a black leather collar around their necks. A similar cuff went on their left hands and right ankels. As each slave was processed, a DNA ID, along with a collar, and two cuff numbers showed up on my pad. As soon as our twenty were fully tagged, Samhir settled our account with Margo.

Only then did the guards allow our purchases to don the shapeless gray robes of private slaves being transported. I stayed away from the process, observing, as they were linked by the ankels and shuffled toward the door and our waiting transport. I glanced at my watch. It was 15:30. Barring bad luck, we should make the train.

I climbed into the cab of the transport, not wanting to see Lexi, her mother, or her younger sister Staci, but wanting to learn more. As part of the sale process, I had each slave’s record of conviction encoded and linked to their DNA ID. Since slave names were often assigned, what I did not have was an index by their names. As we pulled away from the sale barn, I began reading.

We were approaching the station by the time I found her family record.

“Familial conviction for high treason. Patriarch consigned. Immediate household sentenced to criminal indenture for life. Immediate household staff, sentenced to criminal indenture for no less than 21 years. Business staff implicated in treason, consigned. Business property confiscated, involuntary indentured for no less than 14 years.”

I whistled under my breath. What had Lexi’s family done? I knew her father was a high guilder. I thought he was vying for a seat on the Guild Council. For him to be convicted of high treason and consigned to the Black Wing, it had to be much more than normal shady business practices. It also had to touch his business, not just his family given that the business had been confiscated. I quickly looked up the company in the ‘net. It looked like a prosperous pharmaceutical and medical manufacturing company with over twenty locations and factories and nearly ten thousand workers. I wondered what percentage of those were indentures that fell under the description of property in the court’s eyes.

We were pulling into the secure transfer area of the station when I hit my comm.

“Samhir,” I said quickly when I got his autoreply. “It’s Cosimo. I’m sending you a case number from the lot we just bought. There might be a lot of skilled involuntaries at the auction. I don’t know the club’s needs, but it might be worth your while to head back there, if you did not stay. Good luck.”

I attached the court record. He would know best how to exploit the situation. Once done, I put it out of my mind and then anxiously climbed out of the cab as we stopped alongside our train carriage.

The high-speed mag-trains were the lifelines of the empire. The Amorperdita Club had enough traffic between cities that we had custom cars for moving people and material. One of those cars was already in place on the train, sitting between the normal passenger cars and the start of the freight section. Five of the guards began moving our new slaves to the car while one pulled the largest slave and instructed him to grab my two travelling trunks.

I avoided meeting Lexi’s eyes as she shuffled toward the car.

The conductor of the train approached as we began loading. He had little to do, since we were in a private carriage, but he still came by to look us over with an officious stare.

Inside the car, the slaves were paired up and seated. Their ankle cuffs were fastened to the seat and they were told their wrist cuffs would remain free so long as they behaved. Anyone causing a problem would have their wrist hooked to their ankle. Long experience informed the guards. It was virtually impossible to cause a problem when you could not stand straight or move easily with a hand latched to the opposite ankle.

I looked over the seated slaves after my trunks were stowed at the front of the compartment. We had roughly a half of the benches filled. Forward of the slave benches there were a series of compartments for the guards to rest in. The open lavatory the slaves would use was at the rear of the car. Beyond the cabins, there was a better, private lavatory for my and the guard’s use.

Not wanting to, but feeling my obligation to perform the task well, I checked each slave pair to ensure they were fastened securely. When I got to Lexi’s family, her mother and sister were still sobbing silently. Lexi gave me a cold stare, but forced a slight smile. I nodded and continued my task.

Finally, everyone was settled. Two guards sat at the front of the slave area, facing our cargo while the others moved into their compartments to get some rest. The guards would change shifts every four hours. I sat in my own compartment, waiting for the train to begin its journey, thinking.

The compartment was slightly better than the ones the guards used. It had a couch that would convert into a bed if needed, along with a small table and a comfortable chair. I took the chair and pulled out my pad to continue reading about the case that had landed a friend in slavery. I wanted to call Aurora, but resisted the urge. There was something almost sinister in the material.

I stopped my research when I heard the carriage doors lock. We would be moving soon. I rose, and went back to the slave compartment. A word with one of the guards, and soon Lexi was being unlocked and brought toward me. While her mother and sister watched in fear, Lexi herself kept her eyes down and just followed me to my compartment. I waved the guard away when she moved to secure her to the couch.

“No need,” I said. “I can handle her if needed.”

The guard gave a quick nod, probably thinking the worst of me. I didn’t care. I waited until the door was closed.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Lexi said as she threw her arms around me. “When I saw you in that awful place, I knew things would get better. I told my mother we needed to be in the lot you bought. Knowing our owner had to be better than pure chance.”

I let her hug me and then eased her down to the couch.

“Better? Maybe, but your lot is still going to be difficult. I’m not your owner, the Amorperdita Club is. I’m just moving you to Cardino for them.”

“But surely you can do something for us? I mean, you’re an aristo, not just some employee.”

If she only knew.

I shook my head. “I’m a student and a manager in training. I have less influence and power than you think. A birthright doesn’t suddenly make me all powerful. What happened to you?”