Spliced: Part 3 - Chapter 6C

[flighty_dreams]

TITLE:  Spliced - Part 3, Chapter 6C (End of Chapter)
AUTHOR: flighty_dreams
WARNINGS: NC-17. slavefic. scifi setting. M/m. Completely M/m this chapter.
DISCLAIMER: They all belong to me! *insert evil cackle here* I'm just sharing them. *hug*
WORD COUNT:  5,568
SUMMARY:  Part 3, Chapter 6 - Matt has a memorable adventure.
NOTES:  This chapter (B & C) kicked my ass. I was obsessed with making it as perfect as I possibly could. Hope you all enjoy. It's a pretty crazy ride.
FEEDBACK:  Always awesome and amazing.

 

Unease flickered through the familiar eyes. “Call me Ril or something. I’m not Min, and it feels wrong for you to call me that.”

Frustration overwhelmed Matt, and his waning headache returned. “First you say you’re Min, then you say you’re not. You can’t even keep your story straight, so who knows what else you’re lying about. Probably everything.”

The Andorian made a disgusted sound. “I’ll just continue, you’ll understand what I mean soon.” He took a swig of the whisky, and Matt suddenly wished he had some too. If anything required a drink, it was an experience like this one. “Okay,” the Andorian went on, “I left, and when I did I decided to enjoy my freedom. I was a free man now, so I locked away the past and looked to the future. I learned how to live freely, and I was happy for months.” Matt snorted at the idea of the runaway slave calling himself a free man, but he didn’t interrupt him. “After almost a year, I started having these dreams. They were like flashbacks to slavery. And there were other things too, feelings I couldn’t stifle. I felt guilty about leaving some people I cared about behind when I escaped.”

Matt’s brows creased. Like Matt had left family back on Karta, his slave had abandoned other people when he escaped his home too? It felt strange to have such a thing in common with his slave, particularly the lingering guilt that was a consequence of such an act.

The Andorian didn’t sound happy about anything he’d said, and paused. It looked like he had more to say but was refraining from doing so.

“Yes?” Matt drawled, prompting the clone.

Min stared out the window as he spoke, his words soft and low. “Somehow I split myself in two by locking away all my Andorian urges and concentrating on becoming someone new. I thought it was all over, that I could live my life however I wanted, but I found out how wrong that was. I’d sealed Min the Andorian away, and after a year he was pounding at my door, wanting out.”

“Pounding at your door?” Matt let his disbelief show clearly, his forehead wrinkling.

“Fighting his chains? Is that better?”

 “I don’t think there’s any way to put it that would make it seem reasonable. I can’t believe you’re trying to convince me this is true. You’re crazy,” he told the clone.

The Andorian’s laugh then was short and harsh, like broken glass. “Exactly. I think I am. It’s like there’s two versions of me—the slave and the free man.”

“You’re lying,” Matt denied, even as part of him whispered that the proof was staring him right in the face. It was certainly an explanation for why this Min was so different.

“No, I wish I was. My life would be so much simpler without this. I have to switch back and forth between the two halves of me. Half the year I’m Min and the other half I’m—the man you see now.” He avoided mentioning a name.

“Wait, half the year being six months?” Matt asked slowly, remembering how long he’d had Min.

The Andorian met his gaze intently. “Yes. It’s not exact, but it’s usually about that long.

He’d planned to run away all along then. The thought made the Kartan absolutely furious, and only his intense need to know the rest of the details stopped him from yelling outright. Enunciating the words carefully and softly in his anger, he said, “So let’s say this insanity is true. What do you do when it’s Min’s turn?” Matt asked, suspecting what was coming next.

The clone’s expression remained serious, his face tightening unhappily. “What do Andorians do? Serve.”

Matt’s jaw clenched as he described aloud what Min had done to him. “So you serve, and then you just run away when your needs are met? You use people and then leave?”

The Andorian’s eyes sparked with blue fire. “Yes, I do. They use me, why not use them back? They wouldn’t have kept me anyway. I save them the trouble of selling me.”

Matt fisted his hands behind the pillar. The Andorian didn’t know it, but Matt would’ve kept him. Hell, he still planned on doing so, if he could manage to grab Min before he got away again.

“Besides, what alternative do I have?” the Andorian added then.

Matt had a ready answer for that. “You could accept reality:  you were born a slave and you will always be a slave. You’ll always be Andorian, and to be Andorian is to be a clone and a slave.”

The clone slammed his glass down on the coffee table hard, and strode over to Matt, anger blazing in his eyes. Muldane stiffened against the pillar, bracing himself for whatever the clone was about to do even as he met those furious blue eyes with a hard gaze of his own. Min grabbed the front of his shirt and stepped in so close they were almost touching. He snarled, “That’s all you see, but that’s not all that I am. You don’t know me at all.”

“That much is true—I didn’t know much about you until today—but you’re still a cloned slave, no matter what you choose to do. You are not a man, and you never will be. Learn your place,” he growled at the slave harshly.

Rage twisted Min’s face as he leaned in, staring at Muldane from centimeters away. “Fuck you, Kartan. Like you learned your place with your father? You didn’t live up to his plans either,” Min told him, using information he must’ve overheard during his time with Muldane.

Glaring at the clone who’d abandoned him Matt said, “I was born free to make my own choices, slave, no matter what my father thought. You tried to live free, and look what happened. You couldn’t deny your genes or your training. Take it as a sign, you have no right to freedom, and you certainly don’t deserve it. You’re an ashen disobedient fuck-up.”

Min’s eyes gleamed dangerously for a moment, but then he made a disgusted sound and pushed him back against the wooden pillar roughly. He stepped away, muttering, “We’re getting nowhere. This was a mistake.”

“What exactly did you expect to gain from this?” Matt wondered aloud.

Min’s eyes glittered with frustration and lingering anger. “You were different from the others, I actually felt bad leaving you like that. I hoped maybe if I explained-” he cut himself off. “Never mind.”

“No, finish. You thought I’d just accept your explanation?” He couldn’t believe Min would be that stupid, even though he was a slave.

The clone’s laugh was sardonic. “Hah, I knew you wouldn’t like it. I knew you’d be pissed, but there’s more we haven’t covered.”

“Like what?”

“Like the future.” Matt looked at the slave in confusion, so he continued, “It’s been almost six months, and Min will return. I thought I’d at least explain things to you and give you a chance.”

“Wait,” Matt said, a chill creeping across his bones. “You’re saying that Min will be back, and will need a master.” The Andorian nodded. “And if not me, it will be someone else.”

“Yes, precisely.”

“Min is mine. You’ll serve no one else.” The possessive surge was instant, overwhelming him. He glared daggers at the clone in front of him, his hands pulling briefly at the restraints again.

“You don’t own anything at the moment. The Min you know doesn’t really exist right now, because I’m here. If anyone has him, I do,” the clone smiled nastily.

“I’ve got a deed that says otherwise.”

The Andorian smirked. “Those can be forged.”

Furious, Matt stared back at the obnoxious man. “You want something,” he realized suddenly. “What is it?”

The smile Min gave him now was pleased. “I want to make a deal.”

Suspicion flowed through Matt. “What kind of deal?”

The Andorian started pacing back and forth as he talked, and Matt’s eyes were drawn uncontrollably to his lean form again. “When the time comes, you can have Min, but there are certain conditions.”

“Conditions? This isn’t a fucking boardroom, and you belong to me, slave. You’re my property, you can’t dictate conditions.”

Min sent him another nasty smile that made Matt want to punch him. “Considering your current predicament, I’d say I very much can.”

 Dismissing Muldane’s protest, he turned back to business. “At the end of six months, you let him—me—leave. No locking me up, trying to keep me, etc. Secondly, you take back some of your ridiculous restrictions on Min. I’ll go into that later. Finally, you can’t interrogate him about what I do the other half of the year, and you can’t punish him for my actions.”

“You’re an arrogant bastard, thinking you can put conditions on this,” Muldane growled, but pinned as he was he had to admit there wasn’t much he could about it at the moment.

Min smirked at him again. “Well, if you don’t like my terms, then I’ll just vanish again. I can find someone else.”

“If you can find someone else so easily, why go through all this trouble to bargain with me?” He put his jealousy aside, letting his business experience override it. This was a vital question.

Min halted, looking over at him, and his mouth turned up slightly. “You can’t guess? I’ll give you a hint then.” He smoothly glided over to where Matt was standing against the square column, a hand reaching up to stroke his face and then his hair. The resentful part of Matt wanted to turn away from Min’s caress, but after so long apart he was too hungry for the feel of his Andorian. Then Min leaned his face in, finding that special spot behind Matt’s ear unerringly.

The touch of his tongue made Matt’s body tighten in that familiar way, and drew a delighted shudder from him. Min’s other hand reached under his shirt, skimming upward to grasp his nipple and toy with it. The edge of the metal cuffs digging into his wrists brought reality crashing back when he tried to touch the sleek, warm body pressed against him. Groaning, he knew he should resist, but months of loneliness made him weak. He turned his head to the side, seeking Min’s mouth. Stubble scraped his lips lightly, and then the touch of soft flesh beneath his questing tongue told him he’d found his target. Those lips on his were a sharp match lighting the coals of long-denied desire. He plundered that mouth, their tongues tangling hungrily, suddenly feeling more alive than he had during all their time apart. He felt himself harden, and rubbed himself against Min, feeling the slave’s own stiffening sex.

Min’s hand ran roughly through his hair before gripping some of it tightly between his fingers, tugging at his scalp to angle his head the way he wanted it. Moaning, he ground Matt’s body against the pillar, pinning him tightly. His other hand alternately pinched and rubbed the Kartan’s nipple forcefully, and Matt’s whimpers were swallowed against the Andorian’s lips. He finally drew his mouth away from Min’s, another cry tumbling out of him involuntarily. Gasping for breath, his heart pounding, he rubbed the front of his body against the clone’s again, making both their pulses quicken further.

Closing his eyes, Matt let the multiple sensations overtake him, losing all thought. His body was one intense, streaming need screaming for release. He couldn’t use his hands to respond, so he used his mouth, aggressively capturing Min’s lips once again.

Abruptly Min jerked away from him, his mouth retreating and his hands releasing him. Matt growled in frustration, but trapped as he was he couldn’t drag him back. The slave looked away from him, blinking several times as he fought to slow his breathing. “That was unexpected,” he muttered under his breath.

“What?” Matt grumbled, confused and aroused, his own breaths still coming in pants.

Min’s eyes shifted back up to his. “That went a little farther than I planned. I was just trying to make a point, not jump you.” He laughed uneasily.

“Ashen bloody tease,” Matt retorted.

“Maybe,” the Andorian replied, indicating himself, “but it cuts both ways.” He retreated to the couch, picking up his glass again with a shaky hand and taking a drink.

Matt glared at him, eyes narrowing. “Release me,” he demanded again.

“You don’t really expect me to, do you?” Min lifted an eyebrow. “We haven’t finished negotiating.”

“Fine, why don’t we talk about what I want?”

“And what do you want?” The clone asked, his mouth twitching as he eyed Muldane’s obvious erection.

Matt let his hunger show in his voice. “What I want,” he drawled slowly, “is to bend you over that couch and fuck you sore while you beg for more. I want to keep you on that sharp edge, whimpering and pleading for release. Then I’m going to beat the shit out of you and make you grovel at my feet, begging for forgiveness.”

For a second a gleam surfaced in Min’s eyes, as if he pictured it all, but then a derisive smile appeared on his face. “So single-minded. But you’re wasting your breath:  I’m not Min.”

“Close enough,” Matt smirked.

“No, not close enough, that’s what I’m trying to make you understand.” His face became utterly serious, his voice earnest. “I can’t be what you need. I can’t serve, and I certainly don’t want to. I’m not going to bend over and let you beat me, and I’m not going to beg for anything. I’m aggressive and stubborn, not submissive or obedient.”

“You pretend to be that way, your true nature is servitude.”

“No, it’s not. That’s Min’s nature, not mine.” His tone was firm, certain, but Matt couldn’t understand it. Weren’t they both him?

“You responded just like Min would have,” Matt pointed out, thinking of their encounter a few minutes earlier.

The clone laughed that rich, free laugh from earlier, the one that did odd thing’s to Matt’s stomach. Already being aroused only increased the effect. “We have a lot of problems, Muldane,” Min declared gently, moving close to Matt’s aching body again. “But lack of chemistry isn’t one of them.”

Matt had to chuckle bitterly at that, since it was absolutely true. Everything else about this situation had turned absurd and wrong, but it didn’t lower his desire for the slave. If anything, being denied had heightened it. “Why don’t we finish what we started then?” he asked, staring into Min’s face.

Amusement lit those familiar arctic eyes, making his words even more incongruous. “Because,” the clone drawled, “I don’t think you’d like where I want to take this.” He shifted closer, his lips brushing Matt’s ear and a hand curling around his waist to cup the Kartan’s ass. Matt shuddered in response to the contact, but the clone’s next shocking words, whispered hotly in his ear, rippled through him. “I want to fuck you so hard. I want to be inside you, like you’ve been in me so many times. To feel this sweet, tight ass of yours clenching around me as I fuck you against this pillar, pinning you so you can’t escape me.”

“Bastard,” Matt hissed, even as the words sent a shiver down his spine that somehow connected to his cock. But what he really wanted was the roles reversed, the Andorian arching against him, his arms chained behind him as he begged his master to fuck him. “Get off me, you freak,” he snarled, appalled that the slave would even think of doing such things to his master.

As he stepped back, hurt swirled in the clone’s eyes for a moment before it was wiped away by amusement. “See why sex between us wouldn’t work right now? We’d both be fighting to be on top.”

“Please,” Matt snorted. “You talk big, but once we were actually in bed your Andorian nature would take over.” He wasn’t certain of that, but it just seemed so wrong for Min—his Min—to be any other way in bed. Matt had clearly not known much about his slave, but he’d learned all his bedroom tastes thoroughly.

Laughing, Min moved within reach of him again, his hand rising to softly stroke his cheek and his chin again. “You keep thinking that if you like,” he taunted patronizingly, and a belated realization hit Matt. Who had Min fucked in the past five months? Jealousy rushing through him, he started to ask the question but stopped himself in time. No, he wouldn’t give the rebellious slave the satisfaction. But later, when he had his pet back in his house where he belonged, he would find out about every indiscretion, and punish him for each of them.

His gaze lashed over Min as the clone backed up a step, still watching him. Matt longed to free his hands, though he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to fuck the slave or beat him first. Min’s next words distracted him from contemplating that decision. “Let’s get back to the discussion. I’ve told you my conditions. If you don’t agree to them, I’ll look elsewhere.”

“You seriously think that after disappearing for months, and then doing this to me, that I’ll be agreeable?” The slave’s arrogance was stunning.

“What I think,” Min replied confidently, “is that if you ever want to see me again, you’ll learn to be more agreeable.”

“Then what was the point of that little demonstration of yours?” Muldane asked sardonically, referring to their foreplay earlier.

“To remind you of what you’ve been missing, and could have again. Yes, I’d prefer it was you rather than someone else, but not at the cost of my freedom.” His gaze sharpened. “I need this, and I’m not giving it up for anyone, even you.”

“Sounds pretty selfish to me. I’m the one that’s been wronged, not you,” Matt retorted, thinking of all the months he’d spent worrying about Min’s safety. “You shouldn’t be the one making demands.” He snorted in derision. “Not that a slave has any right to make demands anyway.”

Min’s eyes flared angrily. “You just can’t get past that, can you? To you I’m a slave, not a person.”

“Born a slave, die a slave,” Matt remarked with a drawl, knowing it would annoy the Andorian.

“What about the ones that are freed?” asked Min, scowling at him.

“It happens, but even freed clones still aren’t the same as natural borns. Besides, you’re not one of those. A slave can’t free himself. A runaway slave is still a slave.” He switched back to the previous topic. “So yes, you’re just deluding yourself, slave. Stop being selfish and accept reality.”

“Let me guess, reality meaning returning to you until you tired of me,” Min said exasperatedly.

“Exactly,” Matt grinned triumphantly. Little did the slave know his stay would be quite permanent.

“You think I’m being selfish. Let me see if I can find a good comparison here.” The Andorian paused for a minute, thinking it over. “What if you could only have Min back at the cost of losing your business, the things you’ve worked so hard for?”

“That would never happen,” Matt returned, rolling his eyes.

“I know, I’m just trying to make a point. My freedom is what I’ve worked for, just like you’ve built your company. Being with you isn’t worth losing that.”

Matt scoffed in disbelief. “Running away isn’t the same as breaking your back for years as you struggle to succeed.”

Min made an impatient gesture with one hand. “Freedom isn’t as simple as just running away. It’s learning all over again how to live, how to get along in the galaxy, and building a life for yourself. It’s just as hard to achieve, in a different way.”

“I don’t agree.”

“What about when you first left Karta? You had nothing, you knew no one, and the rest of the AP was unknown to you. You had to fight to make something of yourself,” the Andorian argued, his features tightening.

Matt opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it. Now he saw the point the slave was making. It had been extremely difficult figuring out what he wanted from life, and creating an existence from the remains of his sheltered Kartan childhood. He could see how a newly freed slave would be just as lost as he had been then. But Min hadn’t been released from bondage, and he didn’t deserve the freedom he’d stolen. Staring grimly at the slave, he explained, “You didn’t earn your freedom, you took it illegally. Therefore you have no right to it.”

Min sighed tiredly. “We could debate this all night. Look, the important thing is that I see it as mine, and won’t give it up for you. Whether you think I deserve it or not isn’t really essential here. You can only have Min if you agree to my conditions. If you can’t do that, then this is over.”

“You know, this really isn’t a negotiation. You aren’t willing to concede on anything,” Matt pointed out unhappily.

Min frowned as he thought it over, and then sighed reluctantly. “I’m willing to give up the second condition, but you have to let Min go after six months, and I don’t want you torturing information about me out of him or punishing him for my actions.”

“Your actions? Aren’t they his too?”

“I’m not a slave, I don’t answer to anyone, not even you and I act accordingly. He shouldn’t have to pay for me being a bastard.”

“At least you realize you are one.” Matt paused. “Let me think it over.” He wanted some time to ponder his options.

“All right,” Min agreed, gliding over to the couch, and Matt observed again how that same body moved with a confidence and edge so unfamiliar from Min’s elegant, languid movements. Noting that he somehow found this new body language just as appealing as the old, Matt scowled silently.

Turning away from observing that lean, graceful form, Matt’s thoughts turned inward. His arms aching from their confinement, he slid down to the floor as he considered his choices. He could say no, and take his chances that this glimpse into the other Min would help him track the slave down. However, there was also the risk of another man acquiring his property if he didn’t find Min in time. Or he could say yes, and in a month or so Min would appear on his doorstep. Stealing a glance at the clone in question, he acknowledged that Min knew he was a man of his word, which was why he was forcing these conditions on him. But did he really owe any trust to a rebellious, offensive slave? Definitely not. Then why not agree to it, and break the deal later? A contract made with a slave didn’t count for anything in the eyes of the law. Maybe he’d feel a little guilty afterward about breaking his word, but he could live with that if it meant keeping Min. Considering all the things the slave had done to him, he deserved no better. He knew he’d really want to beat information out of the slave, but he’d refrain for a while in order to avoid tipping his pet off to future breaches. Besides, he could always interrogate him after he’d taught the slave his proper place.

“Fine,” he said briskly in the silence of the room. Min looked over at him, startled. “I’ll agree to your two conditions,” he told him reluctantly.

The slave’s face brightened. “Good.” Moving to a bag near the couch, he said, “Let me get the paperwork out.”

“Paperwork?” Matt had expect a verbal agreement, not that. The clone came back and showed him the papers. It was an official Festunian contract stating that the one named Min would serve Muldane for six months. After that period was finished, he would be allowed to leave freely.

This wouldn’t matter since Matt planned to keep him, but he asked anyway out of curiosity. “So what happens after you leave again?”

“You mean after I’ve been free for six months again?” The Kartan nodded and Min frowned pensively. “How many slaves have you owned, Muldane?”

Matt bristled at Min addressing him so casually again, but he answered the question anyway. “About a dozen. Why?”

Something dark and haunted lingered in the clone’s eyes. “I’m just thinking,” he said, his mouth twisting, “you don’t keep your slaves for very long. A year from now, you’ll likely have moved on.” Shrugging, Min added, “So by then I don’t think you’ll care much where I’ve gone to.”

Startled, Matt had to laugh, even though it came out bitter. The slave had no idea.

“What?” Min asked with an intense frown.

He had no intention of telling him, but somehow words slipped past him anyway. “You underestimate your appeal.” Ashen hell, he couldn’t believe he’d said that aloud. It was the second time he hadn’t been circumspect since he awakened here; he blamed the stress of the situation.

Min’s face reddened for the first time since he’d seen him again, but he recovered swiftly. Scowling, he grumbled, “You just like the challenge. And the sex.”

“And you don’t?” Muldane knew they both wouldn’t be here if he didn’t. Ashes, if it weren’t for the slave dragging him out here, he’d still be searching aimlessly for Min.

The clone didn’t appreciate his analysis, and he growled, “The point is, Muldane, you’ll tire of me. I’m strange so it’ll take longer, but it’ll happen with me just like with all the rest. So why bother planning so far ahead?”

“Fine.” Matt knew otherwise, but wouldn’t enlighten him. He’d rather airlock himself than admit how deeply his obsession with the slave ran. He noted that the clone, while trying to keep his words casual, had been tense as he said them. It seemed like the slave wasn’t happy being one of a procession, and his resentment pleased Muldane immensely. The slave didn’t deserve the security of knowing where he stood with Matt after the horrible things he’d done.

Matt looked back at the papers on the floor in front of him. The contract also stated that Min was not to be questioned or punished regarding the actions of his unnamed alter ego. Matt searched the whole thing for a name, but found none. “You’re really paranoid, aren’t you?” he remarked bemusedly.

Min grinned. “It’s paid off, many times.” He sobered, his next words spoken in a heavier tone. “Why give you a name when you could still change your mind? It wouldn’t be prudent.”

“I suppose not,” Matt conceded. It made sense. Andorian or not, the clone was smart. But he was also still a slave, and even this contract couldn’t really bind Matt, especially when he could argue it was being made under duress. But it did make him uncomfortable to be signing his name to it, especially when he wasn’t familiar with Festunian contract law. This crazy planet had completely outlawed slavery, who knew what they’d done to their contract law? Unfortunately it wasn’t like he could look it up before signing; a request to check their laws was tantamount to admitting that he was searching for a loophole.

He wondered if the Andorian would have second thoughts. The idea caused him to say, “I have a condition of my own.”

Min lifted an eyebrow inquiringly. “What would that be?”

“You have to keep in regular contact with me while you’re gone.”

“Afraid I’ll back out?” Min smirked.

“Just being cautious. You can’t disapprove of that, can you?” Matt replied innocently.

He was rewarded with a scowl. “I guess not. Fine, I’ll add that in.” He carried the papers back over to his computer, which was sitting on the couch. “Any other issues?”

“Well, I always have my attorney look at all my contracts before I sign any of them,” he told Min, his mouth twitching with amusement for the first time since he’d awakened in this room.

Min grinned back at him. “I think this is one contract you can handle without Hollis’ counsel. But if you insist, I could call him right now.” A devilish glint shown in his blue eyes.

Matt glowered back at him, cheeks reddening. If Hollis saw him like this, trapped by Min and helpless, he would never live it down. He knew the Monlean would call for help, but he wasn’t sure it was worth letting his obnoxious friend see him like this. Especially when Min had already claimed he’d let him go soon. Despite the many things his slave had hidden from him, he believed that much.

When Matt remained silent, Min sent him another one of those wide grins that Matt longed to slap off his face. “I didn’t think so.”

They spent some time arguing the details and wording of the contract, but finally finished correcting it. All that was left was to sign and seal it. Min finally released his hands from the cuffs, but he kept his gun ready at his hip.

Muldane wondered briefly where Min had learned to use a gun and how he’d become so comfortable with it, but maybe it had been part of his training as a spy. The thought would’ve made him snort in disbelief if the Andorian hadn’t already proved thoroughly how odd and different he was. There had to be some explanation for it all, and that was it. Besides, the idea of spies wasn’t unfamiliar to him; they were used extensively on Karta.

Matt rubbed at his wrists, looking down at the newer cuts on them. He definitely needed more of that cream and some bandages from a medkit, but now wasn’t the time.

Taking a deep breath, wondering if he’d regret this one day, Matt signed the contract and initialed the corrections. He passed it back to the Andorian, who scanned it back into the computer without signing it. “What about your signature?” he asked, surprised.

“Mine is optional in this type of contract.”

“What kind of contract allows that?” Matt demanded.

“An anonymous one.” Min smiled gleefully.

“I’ve never heard of that.” Annoyance crawled through him.

“You can check out the Festunian laws for yourself later. It’s all in there.”

Ire spilled out onto his words. “I want to know who I just made a deal with. What is your name?”

Min was quiet for a minute, as if debating whether to say it. “Sorry, it wasn’t in the contract,” he told him with a straight face, but laughter twinkled in his eyes.

The clone’s arrogance was unbelievable. Only the gun kept Muldane from wrapping his fingers around his throat. “Fuck you.”

The humor leaked out of the slave’s face, leaving only sobriety. “You will, in about a month,” he told him softly. His arctic eyes grew troubled, a look Muldane was familiar with, making him resemble the Min he knew more in that moment than he had all night. “You’ll try to break me,” the slave reflected worriedly. Face hardening back into the stranger, he told Matt, “But not yet.” Lifting the gun from his holster, he pointed it at the Kartan.

Muldane tensed, not expecting this. “What-”

The slave interrupted him. “Our business is done. It’s time to part ways.”

“Fine, but why-”

“I’ll remove temptation from your path, Muldane. You can’t track me if you don’t know which way I went.”

Inwardly cursing the slave’s carefulness, Matt tried to reason with him. “But we’ve made a deal. Why would I try to catch you now?”

The smile he received was bitter. “Clearly you still think of me as nothing more than a slave. You never trust an owner, except to hurt you; that they do well. If I’m a slave, then I’m your ‘property.’ And I know how possessive you are, Matt. The contract didn’t cover letting me leave here without a fight.” Something flickered in his expression. “But your word better bind you into letting Min go.”

“I signed the papers didn’t I?”

“Ah, but did you mean it?” The slave was suspicious. “Only time will tell.” His jaw clenched, and Matt realized he was about to fire the weapon.

“I’ll be in touch, as promised. I’ll let you know the details of Min’s arrival. Good-bye, Matt,” he told him solemnly, and then pushed the trigger.

The blast was just as jolting this time, even though he was bracing to expect it. He tumbled to the ground and the last things he saw were Min’s pant-clad legs a meter or two away.

When he awoke, he was in his original hotel room on Festun. Sitting up in the bed, he noticed that the room looked the same, except for two pills and a glass of water sitting on the nightstand. He didn’t wonder if he’d dreamed the entire experience; the redoubled soreness of his stomach, his pounding headache and the fresh bandages on his wrists made it clear. He reached over and grabbed the pills, swallowing them down with the water. Even as fury ate at him, he pulled the covers back over his head, too miserable to move from the bed just yet.

Chapter 7A