Alexander casually walked to Anja and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned with fury in her eyes that melted into relief.
“Hey, no cutting in line,” a man behind her said.
“Never intended to,” Alexander said with a smile, motioning for Anja to follow him to the back of the line.
“I don’t like this place,” she said. “I don’t want to be a slave, even if they are going to take care of me.”
“I understand completely,” Alexander said. “I don’t expect to be here for very long, but we might be able to do some good while we’re here.”
Anja’s brow furrowed deeply, but she didn’t say anything.
“I need you to behave,” Alexander whispered. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. Do as you’re told. And whatever you do, don’t kill anyone. Can you do that?”
“Maybe … it all depends on how they treat me.”
“From the looks of things, they actually value their slaves. Just do the work they give you and don’t draw attention to yourself.”
“I don’t want to be a slave.”
Alexander just looked at her until she frowned again, looking down at the ground.
“I know, I should’ve stayed at home,” she said. “But I’m glad I didn’t. When you decide it’s time to kill these people, you’re going to need my help … if I can get this stupid collar off.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Alexander said.
“What do you mean?”
Alexander just smiled and gave her a wink.
“You mean you could have taken these things off before?” She was starting to get angry again.
Alexander nodded, putting his finger over his lips.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I decided that I have business here,” he said.
“What kind of business?”
“War,” he whispered.
That answer seemed to satisfy her. She fell silent for a while as the line slowly moved toward the table.
Then she asked, “What do you want me to do?”
“Mostly, I want you to avoid drawing attention to yourself,” he said again. “Aside from that, keep your eyes and ears open. Gather what information you can without getting in trouble. Chloe will pass messages to you. Jack is here as well. Just remember, he’s probably going to pretend like he doesn’t know you if he sees you, so act like you don’t know him either. And if anybody asks, your name is Anja Valentine.”
“Next,” said a very bored-looking older man seated behind the table. Anja looked back at Alexander, who nodded for her to go ahead.
He could see the frustration building in her colors as the man asked a series of questions, often making up answers for her when she failed to provide an answer that fit his preconceived idea of the available options. After checking and rechecking the documents, he handed Anja her papers and motioned towards the door.
“Next.”
Alexander stepped up to the table, and watched as Anja was led away. She looked back before entering the building. He nodded approvingly.
The man looked him up and down.
“Gender, male,” he said, checking a box on his form. “Name?”
“Alex Valentine.”
“Skills?”
“I was raised on a ranch.”
The man looked up, his irritation blunted by his disinterest.
“No call for that … we’ll say you’re a miner.”
“But I don’t know anything about mining,” Alexander said.
The man just shrugged, scribbling on the form.
“Here’s your guild chit,” he said, handing Alexander a tile with a circle engraved on it. “Keep this on you at all times. If you’re caught without it, you’ll be detained by the authorities. It entitles you to room and board provided by the Slave Guild. Do you understand?”
“Slave Guild?”
“Yes, you’re now a member of the Slave Guild,” the man said. “Whoever buys you tomorrow will be required to pay your wages to the guild so they can provide you with your necessities. Move along.”
The man stood up, gathering his paperwork and motioning Alexander toward the door. A man dressed in a grey uniform stood just inside the entrance. Another stood at the point where the corridor met a hallway. “Move along,” he said, motioning for Alexander to turn right.
Down the hall, he came to the end of another line and another uniformed man.
“What’s this line for?” Alexander asked.
“No talking,” the man said.
“I’m just curious.”
“Do you see this emblem?” the man said, stepping closer to Alexander, pointing to the starburst on his collar.
“Sure,” Alexander said, working hard to keep his tone amiable.
“This means I’m an overseer. And that means you do as I say, slave. Understand?” He put his hand on the club hanging from his belt.
“Yes, I think I do,” Alexander said, stepping into line and reminding himself of his cautionary words to Anja.
The line moved slowly as, one by one, men were admitted to a room at the end of the hall. Finally, the door opened and another overseer looked at Alexander with a sense of relief that he was the last man in the line.
“About time,” the overseer behind Alexander muttered.
“Step up to the counter,” the overseer in the room said.
Behind the counter stood a completely unremarkable man who looked through Alexander like he wasn’t even there.
“Show me your chit,” he said.
Alexander placed the tile on the counter. The man nodded, turning to a set of bins behind him. “Get undressed,” he said.
“Why?” Alexander asked.
The overseer rapped his club on the counter. “Do as you’re told, slave.”
Alexander gritted his teeth and started to take off his belt.
The man placed a stack of clothes on the counter. “One pair of pants, one shirt, one smock, one pair of boots. Put them on.”
“Why can’t I keep my own clothes?”
The overseer jabbed him in the ribs with his club. “Do as you’re told or I’ll beat you senseless and nobody will buy you tomorrow. If you don’t sell, we’ll chop you up and feed you to the livestock. Understand, slave?”
Alexander nodded.
“It wouldn’t be fair to the other slaves to let you keep your clothes,” the man behind the counter said. “Only through equality will everyone’s needs be met.” It sounded like something he’d said often. “Take off your ring.”
Alexander swallowed, looking at the Keep Master’s ring, before reluctantly setting it on the counter. The overseer beside him relaxed almost begrudgingly.
“I’m surprised the Lancers didn’t take this,” the man behind the counter said, pocketing the ring.
“Mark this man, Little One,” Alexander said silently. “Tell Jack that he took my ring and I want it back.”
“I don’t like these people, My Love.”
“Me neither.”
Alexander tried to put on the boots he’d been given but they were too small for his feet.
“These don’t fit,” he said.
The overseer bristled, raising his club, but the man behind the counter nodded to himself, motioning for Alexander to give him the boots.
“Try these,” he said, handing him a much larger pair.
“They don’t fit either,” Alexander said, his feet swimming in the oversized boots.
The man shrugged. “Looks like they fit to me. Take your chit and go through that door.”
The overseer followed Alexander down the hall to another open door that led into a large room filled with long tables, each flanked by a pair of benches. The overseer just inside the room motioned for Alexander to get into another line wrapping around the walls of the room.
As he walked away from the door, he heard the other overseer say, “Keep an eye on that one, he’s a troublemaker.” They both glared at him until he took his place in line.
It moved slowly to a row of windows in the wall. “Show me your chit,” the man in the first window said, then handed Alexander a bowl and a spoon. At the next window, a man slopped gruel into his bowl. “Move along,” he said, without looking up. The man in the next window put a piece of moldy bread in his bowl and motioned for him to continue down the line. The man in the final window handed him a wooden cup half filled with water.