‘I’ll report you,’ said Abi, jabbing a finger at the Millmoor man. She peered at the name emblazoned on his uniform. ‘Who do you think you are, Mr Kessler? You can’t just assault people.’
‘How right you are, young lady.’ Kessler’s lips drew back across a wide, teeth-filled grin. ‘But I’m afraid that as of 11 a.m.’ – he checked his watch ostentatiously, rotating his wrist outwards so they could all see the dial, which showed 11.07 – ‘you all began your slavedays and entered a state of legal non-personhood. You are now chattels of the state. To explain for the little one here,’ he said, looking at Daisy, ‘that means that you are no longer “people” and have no rights at all. At. All.’
Abi gasped and Mum made a low moan, pressing her hand to her mouth.
‘Yes,’ the man continued, with that thin-lipped smile. ‘People don’t tend to think about that when they’re making their arrangements. Particularly not when they think they’re something special, too good to slave alongside the rest of us. So you have a choice.’
His hand went to the belt and unclipped something. It looked like a child’s drawing of a gun: blocky and intimidating.
‘This fires 50,000 volts and can incapacitate each one of you. Then we load you into the car, along with your bags. You four in there, and you’ – he pointed to Luke, then to the van – ‘in there. Or you can all just get in the correct vehicle. Simple.’
You could appeal these sorts of things, couldn’t you?
Abi had got them all into Kyneston. She’d be able to get him out of Millmoor. Of course she would. She’d wear down the labour bureau by force of paperwork alone.
Luke couldn’t let anyone else in his family get hurt.
He loosened his arms from around Daisy and gave her a gentle push away.
‘Luke, no!’ his little sis yelled, trying to cling more tightly.
‘Here’s what we’ll do, Dozy,’ Luke told her, kneeling down and wiping the tears from her cheeks. ‘I’m going to Millmoor. You are going to Kyneston, where you’ll be so super-special-amazing that when you tell them you’ve got a brother who’s even more awesome, who somehow got left behind, they will send their private jet to come and fetch me. You understand?’
Daisy looked too traumatized to speak, but she nodded.
‘Mum, Dad, don’t worry.’ Dad made a choking noise and Mum broke out in noisy sobs as he embraced them both. ‘It’s just for now.’
He couldn’t keep up this act much longer. If he didn’t get in that van quickly, he’d completely lose it. He felt empty inside, just bitter black terror washing around like dregs in the bottom of his stomach.
‘I’ll see you all soon,’ he said, with a confidence he didn’t feel.
Then he picked up his duffel bag and turned towards the minivan.
‘Aren’t you the little hero,’ sneered Kessler, slamming open the vehicle side. ‘I’m weeping here. Get in, Hadley E-1031, and let’s get going.’
The baton hit Luke hard between the shoulder blades and he sprawled forward. He had the presence of mind to pull up his feet before the door banged shut, then was thrown back against the seat legs as the van pulled away.
Face down on the filthy vehicle floor, pressed against strangers’ stinking boots, Luke didn’t see how anything could be more awful than what had just happened.
Millmoor would prove him wrong.
2
Silyen
Early September sunlight streamed through the oriel window of Kyneston’s Small Solar, throwing a thick golden cloth over the breakfast table. It turned the silverware arrayed in front of Silyen Jardine into a constellation of stars. The fruit bowl in the centre, a dazzling sun, was piled high with pears. They were freshly cut from the trees in Aunt Euterpe’s garden. He pulled the dish towards him and selected a russet-and-green specimen.
With a sharp, ivory-handled knife he cut into the pear. It was ripe and he watched the juice bleed out onto the plate before wiping his fingers.
Before he even reached for his coffee cup, the footman who stood one pace behind and to his left was pouring a steaming black stream into it from a burnished pot. Gavar, his eldest brother, may once have blacked a house-slave’s eye for bringing him burnt toast, but the staff were quickest of all to serve the Young Master. Silyen found this fact gratifying. That it incensed Gavar was a bonus.
As usual, however, Silyen and his mother, Lady Thalia, were the only people in the Small Solar at this hour. As was also customary, there were at least half a dozen slaves going to and fro with the breakfast things. He watched them absently. So much bustle, all of it so unnecessary.
And today Mama was adding yet more to their number.
‘An entire family?’ he said, sensing that some comment was expected of him. ‘Really?’
Staffing was Jenner’s domain. Their mother believed it was important to give his middle brother a sense of usefulness and value within the family. Silyen suspected that Jenner knew all too well how his family truly regarded him. He’d have to be stupid not to, as well as Skilless.