'The chocolate business is cutthroat. You'd be surprised,' Markovi continued as if Kendi hadn't spoken. 'For all I know, you two work for Wexford Chocolate and Jerry is your mole. Wexford would love to know exactly how we do things around here.'
Harenn said, 'I brought his birth certificate and genetic-'
'Yes, yes, I'm sure you did,' Markovi interrupted. 'But I'm afraid that I couldn't sell the boy even if I wanted to. FGW law says only a slave dealer can sell hands less than a year after purchase. I sell you this Jerry boy now, and I'm in trouble for trafficking in slaves without a license. Sorry, but you understand where I'm coming from. No sale.'
'You just said the FGW doesn't much exist anymore,' he said aloud, trying to keep his temper. 'They aren't in a position to uphold-'
'Sorry, Junior. Can't do it.'
'Five times the price,' Kendi said tightly. 'I might even be able to come up with six.'
'Wouldn't matter if you handed me a hundred and your associate here gave me a blow job,' Markovi drawled. 'Joe and Alex here will show you out now.'
Kendi turned. He hadn't heard the office door open, nor had he sensed the two heavily-muscled goons glide into the room. Harenn's eyes went wild. She lunged across the desk and grabbed Markovi by the throat.
'You have to sell him to me,' she hissed. 'He is my son, you bastard! Give me my son! '
'Harenn!' Kendi shouted. He grabbed her shoulders and tried to pull her away. Markovi's eyes bulged and he made choking sounds. Joe appeared next to Markovi and pried Harenn's fingers away. The moment he broke her grip, Harenn balled up a fist and socked Markovi in the face. He stumbled backward with a yelp.
'Get them the fuck out of here!' he howled, one hand over his nose. Blood trickled between his fingers.
Joe grabbed Harenn's wrists and twisted her hands behind her. Kendi spun to face him. He was the man who had originally shown them in.
'Let her go!' Kendi snapped.
'Not until we're outside,' Joe replied through clenched teeth. Harenn fought his grip, cursing and snarling. He pushed her firmly and none-too-gently toward the door. Alex put a heavy hand on Kendi's shoulder to escort him away as well. Kendi shook it off with a glare and followed Joe and Harenn out the office door.
'Bitch!' Markovi yelled after them. 'You'll never see your little brat again, I'll make sure of that!'
Harenn renewed her struggles, and in the end it took both Joe and Alex to get her out to the parking lot. Kendi, not knowing what else to do, followed.
'Get into the car, sir,' Joe said. 'Our security computer will take control of your vehicle and drive it from the grounds. If you try to come back-' he cracked his knuckles pointedly '-it'll involve a lot of broken bones.'
Kendi silently climbed in. The moment he closed the door, the groundcar rushed out of the parking lot and zipped up the driveway. The gates swung open just in time to let the vehicle through and they crashed shut behind it.
'Thank you for visiting Sunnytree Farms,' chirped the computer. Kendi punched the screen with his fist and it shut up. He turned to Harenn.
'I'm sorry,' he said.
'I don't know what to do,' she whispered. Harenn pressed a hand against her window. 'He is in there and he doesn't even know I am here for him. He doesn't even know.'
An unfamiliar, gasping sort of sound issued from her veil. It took Kendi a moment to realize that Harenn was crying. It was the first time he had seen her do such a thing. He found it unnerving, as if he were standing on a boulder that had suddenly shifted beneath him.
'We aren't done yet, Harenn,' he said grimly, and laid a hand on her shoulder.
'What do you mean?' she asked, her eyes red above her veil.
'I promised you I'd get your son back and I will,' Kendi told her. 'I already have a plan.'
CHAPTER TWO
'If wealth can't buy freedom, you have to steal it.'
'Exactly what's supposed to be wrong with our system?' Markovi said.
The blond woman shifted an impressive wad of gum from one cheek to the other. She wore a blue jumpsuit with matching cap and carried a toolbox. A holographic ID badge floating near her lapel proclaimed her an employee of Compulink, Inc.
'Look, mister-how many times you want this explained?' she said. 'Our programmers found a potential glitch in the programs we installed for your irrigation and fertilizer systems. Nothing has gone wrong yet, but something probably will and I'm here to fix it before it does. We're not even charging you, since it's our fault the glitch is there in the first place. What's the big deal?'
'The big deal is that I received no authorization from the home corp to let anyone examine our equipment,' Markovi said sharply. 'There are a lot of spies in this business, and-'
'Yeah, yeah. You want me to fix this thing or do you want fertilizer spraying every which way at noon on Tuesdays?'
'I'll have to call the home corp first.'
'Sure, fine. What do I care? I'm paid by the hour.'
Markovi turned and walked into his office. Gretchen Beyer picked up the toolbox of computer equipment and followed. She was surprised at how calm she felt. By all rights her heart should be hammering. There was no doubt in her mind that if Markovi learned who she was, her broken body would turn up in a ditch somewhere. Ben had uncovered a fair amount of information on chocolate companies, and it had turned out that these particular corps were more paranoid and secretive than many fascist police agencies. L.L. Venus had no public information officer, no press agents, and, since it was still a proprietary company, no stock market presence. According to an unauthorized biography of the Venus family and of the Wexford family, both corporations had surveillance and espionage departments dedicated to guarding their own recipes and stealing secrets from their rivals. And their security people had reputations for absolute ruthlessness. By all rights, Gretchen should have been nervous as hell-and she wasn't.
Of course, ever since the Despair, Gretchen hadn't been much in control of her emotional state. One minute she was so depressed she didn't care if the universe ended, the next she was so angry everything seemed tinged with red. Gretchen had been a reasonably skilled and powerful Silent, gifted in the Dream and easily achieving the rank of Sister among the Children of Irfan. Now, however, she was nothing. Sure, she still held her rank, but she couldn't do anything with it. The Dream was gone for her. She couldn't reach it, couldn't even feel it. Like every other Silent in her position, she hoped with fevered desperation that this was only temporary, that one morning she'd wake up and sense the familiar Dream around her again.
She hadn't cried at Mother Ara's funeral. In her more despondent moments, Gretchen felt that Ara had it pretty good, had taken the easy way out during the Despair. Jump off a balcony, all the pain stops. Gretchen couldn't blame her for doing it, not when she knew exactly how Ara felt. But Ara had left an unholy mess in her wake, including the impact on Ben. Gretchen liked Ben, had even had a crush on him once, though now she sometimes found herself angry at him for gaining what she had lost. And then there was Kendi. He had once been her equal. Now he was her superior, both in rank and in the fact the he still had the Dream. She respected him, though she'd never say so except under extreme torture, but she was mighty pissed at him, too. That was the problem. Everything was mixed up, and every time Gretchen thought she'd figured out which direction was up, it turned out to be ninety degrees from reality.
Better, then, to concentrate on the job at hand. Slavers and slave owners were a concrete problem Gretchen could handle. Besides, Gretchen had always felt that the best thing to do for a bad mood was to spread it around.
