Chapter 3

Atigula cleared his voice then spoke, “Brusque.” Lynne took a step back to give her master a clear view of Atigula.

“Yes, Master?” His formality not forgotten, Brusque would be prepared for the new change in hierarchy as he correctly addressed Atigula even after referring to him by his surname for many years now. Lynne knew she would have to get on his level if she ever wanted to succeed as a master.

“Your Pupilan has served with you for how long?”

“Three years, two months, sir.” Lynne was impressed that he remembered that precisely. She of course knew it had been an additional thirteen days, but did not expect him to recall that specifically. Or say it. God, she was nervous!

“I see.” There was a hint of disappointment in his voice, as if he thought she should have advanced much sooner. Lynne took the time to thoroughly agree in her own head. Of course, advancement often depended upon the removal, or more often, ****, of an existing master. So there was no “set in stone” timeline for advancement either.

A new voice spoke up, it was the lone female master, “Head Master Atigula, if I may weigh in?” She heard Brusque let out a breath, almost as if he were annoyed. She felt similarly, but kept her composure.

“Bradith. What is it?” Master Bradith was the third ranked master. She had been on the council for a long time and was quite experienced. Despite her position, Lynne found her to be especially irksome. She would often go out of her way to belittle or put down Pupilan, especially female ones. A beautiful woman herself, she would frequently point out the physical flaws of others and wasn’t afraid to do so directly. Her rank lent her the power to do so with little retaliation.

Lynne looked to her right across the table and saw Bradith. Her lips were pulled back into her signature smirk. Uh oh. That was usually a sign she was about to say something only she would enjoy. Bradith looked directly at Lynne and seemed to be measuring her. Staring right back at her, Lynne felt confident for some reason. She had every right to be here, to be considered for this position. What could Bradith possibly say to jeopardize that?

“Pupilan.” It was clear that Bradith was speaking to her.

“Yes, Master Bradith.”

“You have accompanied Brusque on many missions. Successfully, I believe, in most, is that correct?” Successfully in all, Lynne wished she could say. Of course, that wasn’t all due to her. Brusque was the most capable man she had ever seen in combat, what he pulled off and regularly made look easy was a humbling experience most days.

“Yes, ma’am, that is correct.”

“Well done! It certainly shows your capability, which should also speak to your qualification for the role of master.” She played with some paper sitting in front of her, still smirking. This was very odd, Lynne knew that Bradith rarely had anything positive to say about pupes, and had never once complimented her.

“Th-thank you, Mast-“ Lynne was cut off as Bradith looked up at her, a curious look on her face.

“It occurs to me that in the last three years, you have never been absent from any council meetings I have attended. Is that correct?” A tiny prick of nerves began to eat away at Lynne’s conviction as she began to see where Bradith might be going with this.

Licking her lips, she responded, “That is correct, I hav-“ Once again, cut short by the elder woman’s next question.

“How interesting. So, you have failed to conceive a child, then?”

There it was. The hit Bradith had been looking to make from the beginning. Lynne knew that the work she did for The Syndicate was externally purported as being purely crime fighting, however there had been a clause to her contract that she had been **** into signing at the beginning which she knew meant otherwise.

Internally nicknamed the “Conception Clause,” it served as a motivation for most of the Syndicate women and men hired. It gave details on how important it was for Energetics to procreate together and encouraged relationships between team members with bonuses provided to parties who successfully produced offspring. This was the true reason that so very few women found themselves in her position, with her level of experience. They were tempted by the offer made by The Syndicate and took advantage of it, sometimes many times over. Obviously while they were pregnant, they were not permitted to serve in a combat role. Instead were cared for in the many clinics through their entire nine month term and another 6 months thereafter while they cared for their children. Few returned to their previous roles with the intention of remaining and advancing their career as a Syndicate officer of justice.

The truth is, it was an expectation for most women to fulfill that role. Advancement was never really heard of for female Syndicate officers. They were trained, sure, but a lot of them thought of it as a way to impress and attract men, not that it was every very hard to do that. The expectation was usually fulfilled within a few months after signing their employment contract. That is, unless they were infertile. Women like Bradith were almost certainly in this position. She never spoke about it, but Lynne had her suspicions. As, evidently, Bradith did about her.

Before she could respond, Brusque came to her rescue, “It is not a requirement for Pupilan to conceive a child.” His voice relaxed her. He was the epitome of calm. Lynne took a few calming breaths and let him take the wheel for the moment as he continued, “I do not see how this is relevant to the consideration of the newest master?”

Atigula looked as though he might agree with Brusque as he was nodding and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could came the retort from Bradith.

“Of course it isn’t relevant, I’m merely curious as to why? Is she infertile?” Bradith’s attempt to look sad was mediocre at best. She wasn’t even attempting to hide her scorn. Lynne felt a mix of anger and embarrassment. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She wanted to shout, to give Bradith a piece of her mind. That mocking bitch! How dare she!? But it wasn’t Lynne that responded.

“Why do you waste our time, Michelle?” There were a few gasps as Brusque’s question not only challenged Bradith’s intention, but also addressed her informally which was considered very poor manners, especially in a council meeting in front of Pupilan.

Lynne’s eyes went wide, suddenly she felt no concern for herself, only for the backlash her master might receive as a result of coming to her aid. She turned her head to look at Brusque, and he was staring directly at Bradith, cold steel in his eyes. She had been on the receiving end of that stare before, it practically melted her to the floor. Looking back at Bradith, Lynne could see that she was doing her best to meet his gaze, but her left eye was twitching slightly. Whether due to his insult or stare, Lynne could not tell.

“Brusque.” Atigula’s tone was one of warning. “I do not need to remind you of proper meeting etiquette, do I?” All eyes moved from Atigula to Brusque.

His response was calm and cool, “Sir, I am familiar.” His gaze shifted back to Bradith. “My apologies, Master Bradith.” His proper use of her title seemed to assuage her, and she visibly relaxed. However, he was not done.

“I feel as though I should not have to point out that certain bonuses are still publicly listed.” Lynne could feel her cheeks heating up. He was, of course, referring to her conception bonus. This was the amount The Syndicate was willing to pay any male that would impregnate her. These bonuses were issued upon initial on-boarding and were based upon a fertility test. Various factors were taken into consideration such as how fertile a woman was, her cycle regularity, her physical attractiveness as rated by Syndicate scale, amongst other anatomical parameters. It was revised over time, generally increased to encourage more interest. Her bonus was one of the highest in the company as a result of how long she had avoided pregnancy.

Brusque continued, now looking back at Atigula, “Because of this listing, of which I am confident nearly everyone at this table is fully aware of, Bradith’s question was not only inappropriately personal for this setting, but also completely unnecessary.”

Bradith’s lips were a thin line as she did her best to stare daggers at Brusque. It looked as though she might speak up, but it was her turn to be interrupted.

“I agree.” Atigula’s voice spoke with authority, and had the effect of redirecting Bradith’s attention to the paper on the table in front of her. Lynne wanted to dance! Instead, she settled for a small smile.

“As for the election of the newest master, the five have already decided.” Lynne’s smile widened. “The newest master will be…”