Chapter 5

Carl Brusque walked down the hallway. He gone back to his apartment and eaten a light dinner consisting of one of the meals the Andromeda, the space station they were based on, brought up from Earth for higher level employees. He wasn’t sure how he felt about crab. Weren’t crabs basically large bugs that lived in the oceans below? It had tasted meaty, yet visually didn’t appeal. He knew he would be unlikely to try it again.

Looking around him he saw various individuals dressed up and making their way in the opposite direction he was. He knew the Andromeda had a rather active nightlife. It had several clubs and there seemed to be one to suit everyone. That is, everyone but him. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the purpose of these institutions, it was mostly that he didn’t care for social interaction in general. Carl knew that most of the other masters didn’t understand his reserved personality. Most of them seemed to thrive on the little games they played to secure political status amongst themselves. It was a tiresome effort, one he was not obliged to partake in.

The station was turned so that the windows he passed only showed dark space, lit up by the stars in the distance. He paused for a few seconds, admiring the vast, largely unexplored beauty of it. Humans as a species had only begun to reach out into the galaxy in the last five hundred years or so when nuclear reactor technology had advanced to a stage where it could safely power engines. Now the entire galaxy… no, the universe, was at their fingertips.

Though he wouldn’t let anyone in on what he considered to be one of his major flaws, Carl was a curious fellow deep down inside. One of his favorite past times was to sit alone in his room and solve puzzles, not just so that he could decipher their meanings, but so that he could disentangle how they worked. He loved riddles and would often think up some of his own for his amusement. He didn’t share them with others. If he did, then he would potentially have to sit through the awkward stage of, “I don’t get it…?” When the answer would be so obvious.

In a way, the universe was a puzzle just waiting to be solved. A giant Rubix cube just waiting to be twisted and turned, flipped and spun. The only difference is Carl doubted that it would ever be truly understood. He smiled. This meant he would never run out of opportunities to unravel its never ending mystery.

Turning back towards his destination, he thought about the mission they would depart on tomorrow, if they were cleared. He had been given details of a political dispute on a planet named Selletar. The planet itself was fairly new development, only a hundred or so years old in terms of its human occupation. It was on the outskirts of the Milky Way, and was a hot spot for mineral farming. It seemed as though one of the leaders was being threatened by an “unknown source.” They were fairly sure it was the leader of a gang with a different idea of what was best for the people of the planet. This was the sort of mission that he excelled at. Something to figure out and take care of. Not just a common military assist, though he was good at those too, despite the lack of intellectual prowess they required.

Carl rounded a corner and at the end of the hall was a dark gray door. It was fairly common knowledge that all master rooms were equipped with a special, gray security door. He approached it nonchalantly and rapped on it with the knuckles of his right hand. The camera up in the top right corner of the doorway refocused and trained on him. He gave it a blank stare and continued to look at it until a display below came to life and a man appeared. This man was the newest master, rank ten amongst them.

“Davinsky.” He said in greeting. Carl had no need to use his title. Not only was he a rank above this newly titled man, he reasons for disliking the man already.

Looking somewhat miffed at the lack of formality, the figure on the screen responded, “Master Brusque!” He seemed to accentuate ‘Master’ in his address, “Please! Do come in!”

A loud clicking noise came from the door, and it opened revealing a spacious apartment filled with boxes and furniture being moved around by various individuals. Davinsky was very much still in the process of moving into his new quarters, which made Carl curious why he would choose to hold a meeting at his apartment rather than in one of the public meeting rooms closer to the council’s meeting chamber. He struck Carl as a rather naive and disorganized person. Why had the headmasters chosen this man as opposed to his Lynne?

He supposed he ought not to think of her as his, but rather as her own person. He didn’t let on to it, but he had become rather fond of her, and was proud of her development as a Pupilan. Realistically, she had all the training she needed to meet any expectations the council might place upon her.

Carl stepped into the doorway, waiting for a muscle-covered man to lift a brown box, swivel on one foot precariously, cursing while he caught his balance, then shuffling off towards a room on Carl’s right. The front room was large and contained many doorways and a staircase leading up to the second floor. Two men were carrying a couch from one side of the room to the other in front of a woman barking orders. This woman went between pointing at a place on the floor where the couch was evidently supposed to be placed, to shaking her fist at a man up on the second floor who was carrying a box and had some sort of confusion as to where it went. Through a doorway in a room across from Carl was a man in a large gown running a painting roller up and down the wall, and to his left Carl could see what appeared to be a kitchen, also full of stacked boxes. What a disaster.

Carl sighed, crossed his arms, and waited. This man could use some lessons on how to respect your superiors. He knew that they were both technically the same rank, but internally there was an unspoken ranking system which the masters used and as it stood, the first rank master had a slightly higher rank than the second, as so on and so forth. This tenth master may be unaware of this secret system, but it would be political suicide if he didn’t internalize it.

A loud, obnoxious voice cut through the hubbub as Davinsky waddled towards him, the tablet he had answered the doorbell on tucked in one arm, the other swinging like a mad pendulum. He really was quite a large man, Carl wondered briefly how this man could possibly function in combat.

“Welcome, welcome,” Davinsky paused for a second to catch his breath, then with a smile too large for his face, he finished with a final, “Welcome!” He attempted to put his arms behind his back, then when he hadn’t quite achieved the effect he was clearly going for, settled for putting his arms at his sides. Then, realizing his mistake, he reached forward with one hand, offering it to Carl.

“So very pleased to invite you into my new, humble abode.” His tongue in cheek boast was clearly meant to impress. To be fair, it was an impressive suite. Carl wasn’t quite sure how he managed to procure such an impressive home after moving in from what would have been one of the very modest apartments all Pupilan were provided with. Moving sideways for a brief second, Carl dodged a man on his way out who looked to be covered in paint. Lovely. He had just had his cloak dry cleaned last week and he restrained the impulse to check and see if the man had got any on it. Looking back at Davinsky, he realized that the man was still standing there with his hand extended.

Smiling, Carl shook. Once his hand entered that of his hosts it went for a ride as Davinsky’s shake was far more active than the rest of his body had been for quite some time. Carl immediately felt suspicious at the unwarranted enthusiasm. Well, to be fair, he had been suspicious since he had first received a message from this man asking him for a meeting several days prior. At the time, he had no idea what he could have wanted. He had an inkling now after having put some thought into it, but he would let things play out before jumping to any conclusions.

“Davinsky.” Carl nodded, accepting the keen man’s welcome.

“Oh, please, Call me Daniel!” He insisted, ending the handshake. Strange, that he seemed so put off initially by Carl not using his new official title, yet now he wanted to be referred to on a first name basis. No, thank you.

Now that his hand was free of the turbo coaster ride it had just been on, Carl let it fall to his side while he took a second to contemplate the fastest way to end this meeting and get out of here and away from this… Daniel.

“Very well. You mentioned you had something you wanted to speak to me about. Do you wish to do so here, or…?” Carl trailed off, hoping his suggestion would be met with understanding. It was.

Daniel’s eyes brightened, “Oh, of course not!” He laughed and it sounded like a hyena with a cold, mostly wheezing with a short gasp at the end. “Come, follow me.” He turned and moved past Carl to his left and down another hallway. Carl followed, knowing that every master’s quarters came equipped with its own conference room. As he understood it, they were for matters of privacy, but that could also be done in a casual manner. No **** or **** were permitted in the public conference rooms, but masters were not monitored or held to the same standards as the general public or employees on board most Syndicate ships.

As he thought, Daniel turned into a large room with a long table in the middle, and 8 chairs placed around it. A picture of the galaxy was placed on the far wall, although it appeared to be hung slightly off center. A big screen monitor was set into the wall on the wall to his left as he entered, it was currently on a screen saver mode which displayed a picture of a mostly nude woman bouncing from each side and corner of the screen. Thinking that this interaction could not end soon enough, Carl leaned against the wall perpendicular to the screen and stared at Daniel.

Licking his lips nervously, Daniel said, “Let’s sit.” He himself took a seat at the head of the table, the chair protesting slightly but accommodating him. Carl pulled a chair out from the side of the table. It rolled smoothly against the black floor which appeared to be made of polished wood. Expensive, especially for a starship. Sitting down he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and cupping one hand over the other, then fixed his eyes upon Daniel again.

“Champagne?” Daniel offered, a small grin on his face, “I can get you some…” He leaned forward, a button on the table in front of him.

“I don’t drink,” Carl said. It was mostly true. He hardly ever drank, and he never drank around others with a rank so very close to his. Or others with a rank that wasn’t close to his. It was too risky to drink at all around other Syndicate employees, so he didn’t.

Making his counterpart nervous was a technique Carl had learned a long time ago. He had perfected it, for the most part, and it was an effective tool. Especially in one-on-one conversations. He had kept up a foreboding image in the eyes of all the other masters, and he leaned into that image now. He didn’t want Daniel to get the wrong impression. He wasn’t here because he wanted to be. The message appeared to have been received, because Daniel cleared his throat, then began.

“Well, uh, I guess we might as well get down to it.” He paused for a second, then reached forward and plunked his finger down on the button, it started flashing, then after a few seconds a female voice answered.

“Yes sir!” The hustle and bustle of the background was quite apparent. There was some clinking and loud voices for the duration that she was responding, then it cut off when she stopped talking.

“Please bring champagne to the conference room,” Daniel covered the speaker next to the button with one hand, an effort Carl was certain was anything but effective at blocking the transmission as his other finger was still depressing the call button, “Don’t worry, just for me.” He winked and then seemed to realize he had nothing further to add, and released the button.

“Yes sir, be right therrrre!” The voice came through with a sing-song tone.

Daniel leaned back into his chair, smiling at Carl. He looked every part a pompous asshole, but Carl made sure he gave no nonverbal cues as to how he felt about this man. It wasn’t far from how he felt about most of the other masters anyway, so that made it easier.

“So, I am glad to see that you did not bring Lynne, as per my instructions, I guess you could say that what I wanted to speak to you about has a lot to do with her.” Daniel looked down at the table where he was absentmindedly scratching at nothing in particular that Carl could see.

“Would it not make more sense to have her here, then?” Carl said.

“It would…” Daniel’s hesitancy and noncommittal way of speaking was driving Carl crazy, “except I wanted to talk about her future, and she has a bad habit of interrupting and getting in the way of progress when it comes to me talking to her. I just assumed it would be the same with me talking about her.”

What did he mean, ‘talk about her future’? Also, Carl knew that in the past Lynne had a tendency to be overly verbal, but lately she had made a serious effort to control that practice and had been moderately successful. This was a fact that he was somewhat proud of her for achieving, so it stung a bit when Daniel called her out like this.

“You wish to discuss her future. With me? Why not ask her directly?”

“Well…” The scratching had evolved into drawing circles, “You are her master, are you not?”

The rhetorical nature of his question precluded Carl’s need to answer it. So he didn’t.

“Uhm, yes, of course you are, what I mean is that as her master you have control over her future here at the Syndicate.” Daniel’s eyes went from his finger, to Carl, back to his finger. “So I’m hoping that our conversation will be more productive than if she were here. With us. Uh…” He trailed off, “Where is that damn drink?!” He said with a laugh as he pulled at his collar briefly. He appeared to be sweating.

As if she had been waiting for him to finish talking, there was a knock at the door. Relief appeared to flood Daniel’s face as he called out louder than he needed to, “Come in!”

A petite woman with long blonde hair opened the door and peeked in, “May I?” She asked.

“Yes, yes, yes, come here, darling.” The way that Daniel pronounced the word darling made Carl’s skin crawl. She made her way into the room past Carl. Her hair fell down in curls past her shoulders, she was wearing a purple button up top with too few buttons actually done up, and some long black pants. It was now Carl’s turn to stare at his hands, because if he looked in Daniel’s direction, or the direction of his darling, all he’d be able to see was that very round ass of hers as she had bent over and whispered something in his ear.

Whatever it was, it put a smile on Daniel’s face. He also seemed to notice Carl’s discomfort, and the smile turned into a shit-eating grin. What a prick. It was hard to have a serious conversation with an oversized rear end staring you in the face. This put the ball in Daniel’s court, as he was far more comfortable in that zone.

“Thank you, Amanda. I’m glad you’ve prepared everything for tonight. I will be seeing you later.” Then, in true creep style, he kissed the top of her hand while staring up at her. Carl couldn’t help feeling out of place. What kind of disgusting creature plans his evening romp in front of a guest? It appeared as though Daniel’s advanced rank was his favorite new toy, and he was willing to take full advantage of it merely hours after it had been bestowed upon him.

“No problem, honey!” The girl, it was hard to think of her as a woman, said with a cheery grin, and skipped out the door, closing it behind her. Carl half expected Daniel to reach out and slap her on the behind as she left, but evidently miracles do happen, and Daniel had restrained himself.

“Right then!” A newly confident Daniel said, “Let’s talk shop.” What an odd phrase. They never actually did work in a shop. “I want to talk to you about your pupe.”

Carl sighed. Daniel had a way of talking a lot without saying anything at all. He could tell that this would test the limits of his patience. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, indicating for Daniel to go on.

“I want Lynne… to be my apprentice.”

Taken aback by the brashness of his statement, Carl paused for a moment. “She… is my apprentice. Are you implying otherwise?”

“No, I know that. I want you,” he pointed at Carl, “to give her to me.” He finished by pointing both thumbs back at his face.

Waiting for Daniel to continue, and explain himself, Carl’s eyes narrowed. He knew that there was indeed an opportunity for masters to trade Pupilan with one another, should it suit their needs. However, it was well known how skilled Lynne was and for Daniel to make a request like this indicated he had far more than a normal trade in mind.

After a few moments Daniel seemed satisfied with the drama he had created and said, “Of course I would be willing to trade her for an equally suitable replacement.” He began to search in a drawer located on his side of the table, then pulled out a bottle opener.

Unlikely. There were none on the Andromeda that had come even close to the expertise that Lynne had, Carl would not even consider trading her for any of the others.

“I do not think-” He was interrupted as Daniel began to work the cork on the champagne bottle, making loud squeaking noises. “… I am not interested.” Carl finished, trying to put as much finality into his voice as he could muster through the squeaky cork. Finally, it popped and champagne was deposited into Daniel’s glass. The swirling liquid bubbled and fizzed, and the light yellow colour gave promise of a fine year. Daniel sat the bottle down and reached for his glass.

As he sipped, he raised his eyebrows. The combination gave him a rather comically unflattering look. When he was done, he set his glass down on the table and said, “Carl, Carl, Carl…” Daniel’s patronizing tone was so infuriating that Carl clenched his hands together, knuckles popping softly. However, he had to remain calm. If he were goaded into some sort of retaliatory advance, Daniel could claim that he was assaulted and Carl would lose most of the credibility he had worked to establish.

“Carl, it would seem that you have determined your answer before you hear what I am offering. I’m sure it would be more than enough!” Daniel’s eyes twinkled as he continued, “I have noticed that, as Michelle had pointed out in our council meeting,” once again Daniel showed how willing he was to be on a first name basis with someone he likely didn’t know any better than Carl, “you have been unable to produce any offspring with our dear Lynne.” His sympathy seemed about as real as a four-cornered triangle.

Feeling a headache coming on, Carl rubbed at his temples. He hoped that he looked as tired as he felt, perhaps it would trigger Daniel to let him go. Alas, it was not to be.

“So! As such, I am willing to give you my Amanda in trade.”

Carl looked up. Daniel seemed quite serious. In fact, he was sipping away at his champagne and giving his proposal time to air like it was a candied apple and Carl was merely a wanting child. So much incompetence, so little time.

“Amanda,” Carl aimed his thumb over his shoulder at the door, “That Amanda?”

“The one and the same!” Daniel winked and shot him with a quick finger pistol gesture.

“What, pray tell, would be the advantage Amanda has over Lynne?” Carl said, doing an admirable job of keeping the venom out of his tone.

“Well, she is not only very fertile,” he rubbed his prodigious girth in a suggestive manner, though it only served to make him look ridiculous, “I had her tested, she’s good to go! She even has a longer-than-average ovulation cycle!” Daniel eyed his glass, which was becoming more empty by the minute. “Much better than Lynne’s, which is average, I checked our database in case you didn’t know.”

Of course Carl knew. All masters were informed of their Pupilan’s reproductive cycles as it was standard procedure upon taking on a new apprentice. What he didn’t know was if reproducing with a female was so important to Daniel, then why would he want Lynne over Amanda? Clearly, there was an ulterior motive, he just had to figure out what it was.

“Seems like a good deal.” Carl said, drumming his fingers on the table. “But tell me this, Davinsky.” At Daniel’s immediate attempt to interject, probably to tell him to use his first name, Carl put up his hand, silencing him. “Why did you want to become a master?”

Daniel seemed taken aback. He blinked several times, then stammered, “W-what do you mean?”

“It’s a simple question.” Carl stared at those wet, light blue eyes as they searched for answers on the table. Daniel looked up at him, his cheek twitching.

“Well. Okay. I assume it’s the same reason you wanted to-“

“Hardly any of the masters have the same reason.” Carl said quickly. “That’s what makes us so,” he paused, tilting his head to the side, still staring at Daniel, “interesting.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Daniel cleared his throat and said, “I wanted to make a difference. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to have as a great an impact as a pupe, so I made the moves to become better.” Then he added on, as an afterthought, “As all should!”

Daniel seemed to be happy, having given his textbook response. He drained the last of his champagne and was reaching for the bottle to pour himself another glass when Carl spoke up.

“You’re telling me that is all you wanted? You tell me that your values are to,” Carl fought an urge to form quotations with his fingers, “Make a difference?”

A confused look passed over Daniel’s face. Generally speaking, talking in generalities was a commonly accepted form of speech amongst peers. They were all supposed to just nod and accept the blather that came out of each other’s mouths, never questioning its integrity or purpose, just that it was what it was, and that was good enough. Daniel would never have had to explain in-depth to another master. Except Carl wasn’t just another peer.

“Okay.” Carl said, “Then tell me how you are planning to make a difference with Lynne,” his eyes narrowed as he imagined this man with her, “and how exactly is she a better fit for you than Amanda?”

Fumbling over his words, Daniel said, “I think I, that is I know…” He stopped, closed his mouth and eyes, focusing himself. It was almost as though he was internally chastising himself for the glass of champagne as it was seemingly counterproductive to his plan. “I can make her do what she was meant to do.”

Carl’s eyebrows shot up at this, and he asked, “What was she meant to do?”

“You know…” Daniel mumbled. “Make babies…”

“I see.” Carl said, masking his anger, “So you feel that her purpose is to produce offspring?”

“… Yes.”

Taking a deep breath, Carl let it out slowly. This man was quite useless. He had no idea what he was doing here, or what to do with the power he had been given. Why had he been given the position of master at all? This was something Carl would need to follow up on.

“You think you can just tell her to lie with you, and that she will simply comply and have your children?”

“Of course, if I’m her mast-“

“I can assure you, that is not how it works.”

“But, she has to-“

“Look, if you can drop this facade, I’m already quite certain you’ve wasted my time.” Carl snapped, this time not holding back. “I have no use for you, or your offer.” Daniel had taken on a whiter shade as Carl put him in his place.

“You give me some drivel about what you believe in. I’ll tell you what you believe in, you manipulating little coward. Control.” Carl could feel his eyes drilling into Daniel as the younger man slid down into his chair. “You think of Pupilan as objects, and that they should serve you.” Carl scoffed as he stood up. “Here is an important fact I will give to you. For free.” The last two words he enunciated as he gently tapped the table with his finger.

“Pupilan are not tools to be used. They are not your mistresses, nor are they your sword to be wielded against danger or as a means to an end.” As he said this he thought about telling Daniel how he very much doubted Amanda would be useful as the latter, but felt like it would be out of place to criticize her when she wasn’t here to defend herself. He continued, in a more measured voice.

“They are partners. They will perform if you give them room to. If you teach them, advise them, and most importantly, set an example in front of them, they will learn.” Daniel was practically laying down in his chair, his drink forgotten. He looked like a scared child. Good. He might as well play the part he was acting. “They will learn to respect you, and you, them.” Carl turned to leave, feeling relieved he wouldn’t have to set eyes upon this child until the next council meeting. As he did, he turned back to distribute one last bit of wisdom.

“This is why I will never trade your apprentice for Lynne. No matter how good yours is for the things you say she is, Lynne and I respect each other. We have learned from each other.” He opened the door wide and said, “She would have been a much better choice for tenth master.” He turned his back and left.