“But the human pets will still be here,” I say quietly. “Even if I don't see them, I'll know they're here.”
“Yes,” she admits. “They will.”
I sit in silence for a moment, processing everything that's happened. The devices inside my body feel foreign, invasive, and controlling. “Do you believe humans are sentient? Truly sentient, not just clever animals?”
She's quiet for a long moment, and then says thoughtfully, “I've worked with three human employees: Denise, Yasmin, and now you. Each of you has shown intelligence, creativity, emotional depth, and moral reasoning that rivals any class-four species I've encountered.”
“But?”
“But my personal beliefs don't change whether a galactic law is enforced.” She meets my eyes. “Learn the rules and respect the hierarchy here at the Spire. Work through your contract and then return to Earth. I don’t think the laws about humans being equal will be fully adopted during our lifetimes.”
Stunned by her honesty, I am speechless for a second. Then I find my words, “But you think I’ll survive my contract without being made into a slave?”
“Yes, you’re the most intelligent human I’ve ever met. The other humans—well, they just didn’t understand what was going on here. Not fully.” She escorts me toward the door, continuing, “But already you understand. So, finish your contract and go home. See it as an experience.”
With that warning, she opens the door, and I step out into the corridor, feeling strange but more stable than when I arrived.
18
EYES ON EVE, RAFE
I’m workingin my private office at the apex of the Celestial Spire, encased by glass walls, surrounded by indifferent stars and Falcon Station in the distance.But I rarely look out the windows. I’m looking through the stats fora new acquisition. But I decide it’s too much of a gamble right now. I don’t want to take on any more risks until I know this year’s Grand Championships is a success. And the key factor that would make it a success rests on the shoulders of our new human employee, who I’m worried may be sex-crazed.
My door chimes and then announces Dr. Veil.
With a gesture, I allow her entry.
“Sovereign Rafe,” she greets me with a low bow. The Celestial Spire is one of the few establishments that readily employs Reima Two women who want to work off-planet.
“Status report,” I command, keeping my voice detached even though I’ve been thinking about my new human employee all day.
“All required modifications have been fitted for the human receptionist, Eve Eden: the Venus Lock with a subcutaneous tracker and a neural translator. Her initial physiological readings showed distress,but well within acceptable parameters for stabilization.” Dr. Veil pauses. “Compared to the humans who came before her, she's remarkably resilient. She handled the procedures with more dignity than most would under such circumstances.”
The mention of the Venus Lock momentarily makes me feel slightly guilty. But I dismiss this feeling immediately. It’s a necessary measure for a necessary outcome. The device will protect her from the worst impulses of our guests while serving our long-term objectives of training her without distraction, and by distraction, I mean my brother and her own sex drive.
“Any resistance at all?” I ask, focusing on practicalities. “I remember that Denise had to be held down to have her translator implanted.”
“Only slight verbal objections, and quite articulate ones at that. However, she was significantly disturbed by the Sapien Spectacle taking place in the lobby.” Dr. Veil's tone grows disapproving. “Frankly, I found the timing unnecessarily cruel. Perhaps showing some consideration for her psychological adjustment would have been more civilized.”
The criticism in her voice sets my teeth on edge. Dr. Veil has always been one of the more outspoken female staff members, typical of women who believe their sex grants them the authority to question operational decisions, even off-planet.
“The timing was deliberate,” I state coldly. “I wanted her to witness it firsthand as a warmup to the Grand Championships. I coddled Denise and Yasmin too much, so much so that when they first saw the Championships, they were so distraught they could not perform their duties. I will not make the same mistake twice. Eve’s complete immersion serves our purposes.”
Dr. Veil's chin lifts slightly. “I simply think that basic compassion?—”
“Doctor,” I interrupt, my voice carrying the weight of absolute authority, “your medical expertise is valued. Your opinions on operational strategy are not.”
The rebuke hits its mark. Her grey features flush darker, and she inclines her head. “Of course, Sovereign Rafe. My apologies for overstepping.”
But even her apology carries a particular female defiance I've grown accustomed to, submission wrapped in barely concealed resentment. I let it go. Dr. Veil is a good doctor, and her skills outweigh any slight I may feel from heropinions.
“How severe was her distress?” I pull up Eve’s biometrics on a display: elevated heart rate, stress hormone spikes, and the telltale patterns of psychological shock.
“Acute, but I managed it with basic telepathic stabilization to prevent an autonomic collapse.” Her tone turns almost protective. “She was terrified, Sovereign. I've never seen such an authentic emotional response. Eve truly believes human pets are equal to her, regardless of rank, birth, or bloodline.”
“You intervened mentally?” A thread of concern enters my voice. It’s imperative she believes the humans with collars are her equals, so when Gael the Returner asks her to help him, she will risk everything to do it.
“Sovereign, I had to. She was talking about not being able to work at the Spire and wanting to return to Earth. After I calmed her, she rejected deeper neural adjustments, which surprised me. She insisted on maintaining full cognitive awareness of what she had experienced. Quite brave, actually. Both Yasmin and Denise accepted the mental modifications to ease their suffering without a second thought. And that was after they’d only seen a few pets in the lobby.”
