Dirt

Poor Little Rich Boy

Chapters 5-7

But reality intruded one morning when an overly excited lawyer made an urgent com call.

Kalli himself, as was their current routine, connected the call to his master's study noting the code of its urgency. He then, with his usual alacrity, dressed and entered his master's study and knelt just outside the range of the holo-com pick-up.

Yaro answered and was alarmed at the countenance of his normally phlegmatic lawyer: "Slow down Dace so I can understand. What's this suddenly about Federation Alliance Law? I thought we had this all sorted out."

"I'm sorry Yaro." Dace was physically agitated. "Note that all twelve sovereignties of P'rernk are signatories of the last codification of Federation Alliance Law. Therefore, since your slave was obtained from off-world, his legal status must be in accordance to Federation Law where it concerns conditioned slaves."

"Yes I know that. My slave has been duly registered and legally processed. He is totally legal. He is registered under his slave name 'Nu'. And all the necessary documents have been filed. I've even already paid the slave tax. So what's the problem?"

Yaro was startled to see his usually unflappable personal lawyer so discomfited.

"Look. Two problems. It so happens that your slave was in fact NOT vetted in accordance with Federation Law. I've done further research. Since the charter of all legal slave conditioning facilities must necessarily abide to the specific rules of the country in which it is registered, and since all such facilities on Excilic II must only admit a boy who is impecunious, and without legal guardian except for the state itself or if the boy were being sold, when your boy was procured it was not legal. It does not matter, unfortunately, that BoyKind, Inc. was not technically culpable under the law."

"But he was at a facility on Calfon II, not on Exilic III. And they are not a signatory."

"Yes. But the company is registered on Exilic III. In fact that is why his registration on P'rernk met with little obstacle. Though not a full member world, all but one of their countries have ratified a non-member charter with the Federation. It had to do with some trade agreement."

"Ok Dace. What does this mean for me and my boy?"

"It means that if anyone happens to decide to take you to court, Federation Court that is, they may very well mount a successful case to declare your ownership null and void. And the only reason why this so rarely ever occurs – in fact I could not even find one case over the past 50 years – is that under the usual circumstances, there is no one who would think this to be to their advantage."

"That's preposterous. What then of the boy? He's conditioned. Doesn't the Law care about him?"

"Apparently not."

"Then what happens to the boy?"

"Unknown. Has never happened before, at least not in modern times. Very possibly forfeited to the State and resold for the revenue."

Yaro considered carefully what he had heard. "Then I guess we must make sure that that doesn't happen." Yaro then made doubly sure he was on a secure com line. "We must keep my boy's provenance a secret."

The lawyer was still upset.

"There is another problem. I have since discovered that there are people, very influential people, looking into your slave's provenance. Apparently someone had a surveillance unit patched into just about all government communications, and tagged anything which coupled anything off world with any person even close to the age 12 being brought to P'rernk within the past eight months, among other tags. I'm telling you Yaro that possibly within the next 20 hours they will be at your very doorstep. Is there something I still need to know? I can't help you if you don't tell me everything."

Yaro was trying to determine if there were any way someone could take Kalli from him. And he then realized that even on P'rernk, if enough power and influence, not to mention money, were applied, he'd not have a chance to stop it. Yaro suddenly experienced a stab of fright and desolation. And then he realized that it was not just his own welfare about which he should be concerned.

"Dace? I think that we need to converse in a more private setting. Would you be able to travel out here at this time?"

"Be there in an hour."

The com call abruptly ended.

"Master?" The concerned voice of his slave pulled Yaro's attention away from his immediate concerns. That particular inflection in his boy's voice was not to be ignored.

"Come here boy."

A troubled boy quickly jumped into his master's arms. No manner of psi-ability could keep the boy from reacting as a typical 12 year old. Especially one so dependant on his master for emotional support.

"Master. I can tell you're really worried. And I understood enough from that call. But I still have no feeling that things will go wrong."

Yaro did not want to worry his boy. He also knew that though the boy could pick up the emotions of those near him, he could not actually pick up any thoughts. He decided to distract the boy while he tried to determine his next possible move.

Kalli felt the hand move into his loosely fitting cloak, which then began to fondle his boy parts. Even with the libido suppresser he'd been given by his master several hours before, so that he could better concentrate on his studies, his penis stiffened and he felt his entire body responding to nature's most joyful imperatives. He also wanted to please his master. As much as he just wanted to revel in his master's attempt to seduce him, and as much as it was his nature to passively give in to what was happening, Kalli jumped from his master's lap and divested himself of his clothing in seconds. And now it was he seducing his master.

Kalli sent a feeling of calm as a counter to his master's apprehension, and as he felt his master's exigent worry begin to dissipate, he gave him his most devilish smile, turned a bit and wiggled his small little boy butt, and ran to their bedroom.

Yaro knew exactly what his boy was trying to do. But understanding just how significant was the boy's psi-ability, he recognized the fact that his slave was not the slightest concerned for their immediate future. So he put off his own growing concern and allowed himself to be lured onto his bed where he literally grabbed a hold of his slave, pulled the upper sheet from the bed, and used it to wrap his boy into a tight cocoon. Only the boy's head protruded. By this time the boy was positively in thrall to his own arousal which almost overpowered all other control.

"OK boy, you'll pay for your temerity."

The boy squealed as his master sat on his small trapped body while he shrugged out of his own clothing. Over the next hour, Yaro had two orgasms using his boy's mouth for his first, and then his butt hole for the second. The second occurred with more tenderness. He had freed his boy from his confinement, lay him onto his back forcing his legs parallel to his upper body, and pushed his own re-engorged black member its full 7 inches 18 cm] into his slave's rear entrance. (He knew that his boy would always be ready for his master).

Yaro could never seem to get enough of his boy's slim body. And as their eyes locked on to each other both master and boy seemed locked into some synergistic lust as Yaro continued to plow into his boy's hole. And just as his boy began his own monumental spasms, his own body responded with his own climax.

Ten minutes later, just as both master and slave were finishing up their shower, the house com toned an awaiting visitor.

Kalli, understanding his master's sudden mood change reassured his master: "Master, I still feel no immediate difficulty."

Yaro gave out a small sigh. He also again realized that there seemed at times like this to be only a fine line between master and slave. In a small fit of pique, he commanded his slave: "Boy, dress immediately, then prepare the proper refreshments, then come kneel at my side. You are the slave after all."

Kalli cheekily remarked: "Your slave obeys. And I will also bring you a tract on how a master may best discipline his slave. I don't feel properly punished yet for my previous temerity."

Missing his boy with the thrown pillow, Yaro ordered: "Scamp, go!"

Five minutes later a flustered lawyer sat in an outdoor patio, secured from the elements by a force field screen. A sizeable selection of fruit and shellfish, along with a moderately sweet dessert wine sat on the table in front of their chairs. A naked white 12 year old, knelt in apparent obeisance next to his master. The boy had deliberately come out naked and assumed a demeanor which he believed most likely to disconcert their visitor.

Dace was somewhat perplexed when Yaro, seemingly without cause, spoke to his slave: "And this time I definitely will punish you boy."

Dace, only slightly discomfited by the boy's white skin, was even more so jolted by the servile manner of the boyslave. He'd have thought that Yaro, of all the people he knew, would treat his slave with much less stricture.

Kalli could not help himself and gave a small chuckle.

Yaro again started to heap on a further censure: "Boy…" when he suddenly stopped and sighed.

He turned his attention to his lawyer. "I apologize for my boy. He's having you on. And enjoying it entirely too much."

Kalli's smile grew and he looked up to his master with an unspoken but understood question.

"Definitely boy. And make sure you think of a suitable apology for our guest."

By this time, the originally anxious lawyer recognized that he was definitely missing something. And also wondered at the apparent lack of concern by his own client.

"Yaro, am I missing something? You seem to be taking things entirely too lightly."

Yaro ignored the plea and instead inquired: "You mentioned something about an inquiry. I assume it has something to do with who you believe my slave to be. I didn't want you to mention his name even on a secured com."

By this time, a conservatively dressed boy reentered the patio area and took up a seat next to his master.

"Much better boy, and the apology?"

Kalli, with a mere modicum of assumed remorse, addressed their visitor. "I apologize sir. My master really doesn't expect me to behave so… I don't know the word. But I was only trying to diffuse the ah… darkness of how everyone was feeling."

Yaro elaborated: "I believe the word would be 'servile.' And what my boy is also trying to say, things are not nearly so bad as they might seem. We are not really worried. Concerned enough to make plans, but not worried."

A very thoughtful lawyer, with his own considerable share of intelligence and perception finally asked his host: "You two really are much more a couple than a master-slave, aren't you?

Kalli looked to his master and seeing the nod, replied. "We truly are master and slave. But we both are quite happy with the relationship. And you might say our commitment to each other is without bound. And our mutual feelings for each other contains real love."

The lawyer, recognizing the import of what he'd just heard remarked: "And so many would think of your relationship one of pure libidinous craving."

Kalli laughed and replied: "Well there's a whole lot of that too."

"Getting back to what brings you here, what do you know?"

"Yaro, exactly who is your boy? I have my own suspicions."

With a mild sigh, Yaro answered: "Dace, my slave's previous name was Kalli Menhare Risenhour."

The lawyer seemed to subside in his chair. "This is exactly what I'd been worried about. So it's true. When you asked me to investigate the disappearance of that boy, and inquired about what the laws states about conditioned slave ownership, I was about convinced. But just how did you discover this yourself? The boy's pre-conditioning would have excised any memories that could have allowed him, and thus his prospective owner, from knowing his origins. And the boy's looks have been sufficiently changed."

"Well, my boy did in fact retain his entire previous memory, conditioning aside. Thus, I was looking for the resemblance, and was convinced myself. The problem is this. The boy most definitely wants to remain my slave. And of course I do not want to give him up. What I need to know, is there any possible way that my ownership of the boy can be abrogated without a formal civil tort?"

Dace spoke with regret: "According to P'rernk law, no. Not even a civil tort would be successful. Nor by the latest codification of Federation Alliance Law, but a civil tort there can be a real possibility. And any member of the boy's family, or even anyone who can be deemed to have standing with the court, say a member of the board of the Bandenburg-Risenhour Dominium. They could show that your boy here could not possibly have met the legal conditions to have been brought to that facility to begin with. THAT is exactly why you need to take this matter much more seriously."

"Boy?"

Dace was surprised that Yaro Kwarto would defer to his 12 year old slave.

"Yes master. What my master wants me to mention is this. I am a class +5 psi-talent. Nothing extraordinary, but sufficient to see enough about our future to see no negative outcomes for both myself, and therefore also my master."

Dace looked at his client and asked the obvious question: "And you are certain of this? That your boy is an accomplished psi?

"Yes. I made inquiries through another agency. The facility which tested my boy confirmed it."

"That then brings me to several other questions. Like how can we be sure of the boy is correct in his assessment? And how can he state that if it's a good outcome for him, it will also be for his master?"

The boy looked to his master again and asked: "May I continue master?"

"Yes."

Dace interrupted: "You really are a slave aren't you. It's a bit disconcerting now that it becomes so obvious. Even when a person accepts that out laws permit this form of servitude, to actually see it in reality brings it home like nothing else. And you don't mind being a slave? Being actually owned by another?"

Kalli again looked to his master who again nodded.

"My master has given me permission to explain. I have been conditioned to obey and submit absolutely. For me, it is a source of contentment and even happiness to serve my master. But I suspect even without my conditioning, I probably could have thrived in such a relationship with this particular master. And in my case there is an additional confirmation. Because of my psi-ability I could have avoided being kidnapped but I saw no need. I always saw a better future being kidnapped was better than not being kidnapped. And I fully accepted the consequences."

"But now you are without recourse? You are a conditioned slave."

"Yes. But I have since seen, and still do, a good future with my master."

"But how can you know that it is not just your conditioning which makes you see this good future."

Kalli thought a moment and replied: "A paradox. I will think on it. But I certainly will not lose sleep over it." Kalli chuckled to himself thinking just what he would lose sleep over.

Finally, Yaro brought the discussion back on track. "Boy, please explain to my lawyer what you have told me?"

"I know that the people who have been looking into the record of this 'new 12 year old white slave, brought to P'rernk from off planet', will be here in less than five hours. I also know that we have recourse to several alternative measures. I could probably just make them believe that I am not the person they seek."

"You can do that?"

"Well I can effect their emotions. Make them feel that their trip here is a total waste of time. I cannot actually make them change their cognitive understanding of something. Almost no psi can do that. And those than can, would immediately be reported to the Over-government. A fate I'd not wish for an enemy. I would suspect that they would still insist on some manner of DNA testing. Or possibly a retinal scan. If we allow that to happen then we'd be screwed."

Dace interjected: "So somehow I must stop that from happening."

The boy rejoined: "Not you. Me. I can interfere with and change minute amounts of digital information from any kind of scan. So long as they are done electronically, no problem. If they insist on taking an actual physical sample, it becomes much more problematical. If that happens then we can only hope to interfere with any data stream resulting from any analysis. And unfortunately for that, I'd need to be pretty close to actually effect anything. Say 10 yards."

The lawyer was still not quite sanguine about the outcome. But the boy tried to reassure him. His psi-ability was sufficient to determine a good immediate future for both himself and his master.

Yaro finally remarked: "Look. No matter what, we must all appear not the least worried about any outcome. In fact we must show that we are totally baffled by why they are questioning us at all."

Several hours later, the three of them, Kalli in loose clothing, were eating a substantial repast on the outer terrace of the natatorium. A place where no extraneous DNA of the boy might be found. The agency with which the two investigating were connected must have done their homework. They had sent two black agents, a man and a woman. It is not that a white agent would have been treated any less respectfully, but it would have caused enough friction to have hampered their actions.

It was Kalli himself, projecting feelings of calm and unconcern, who conducted the two over to his master.

After the preliminary greetings were out of the way, Yaro asked the obvious question: "So what made an actual visit necessary which a com call could not have sufficed?"

The woman replied: "As you may have heard, a very tragic kidnapping has occurred. It concerns a very wealthy heir. His name is Kalli Menhare Risenhour. Have you heard about this?"

The lawyer spoke up. "Well I have. It was quite all over the news. I hear there is a quite substantial reward. Ten billion I thought totally over the top."

At this time Kalli was waiting on the two visitors, all the while projecting feelings of mere casual interest."

It was then when Yaro obliged: "Ah I understand now. Unfortunately, I could never be so lucky. But I suppose it is my new slave here who garnered your interest?"

At this Kalli stood next to his master.

The man now quite politely asked: "I see you understand the possibilities. The boy here could fit the description, though I admit now, comparing it to our most recent holo, that he does deviate a bit in appearance and body conformation."

It was then the women providing the continuation: "But just to make absolutely certain, if you would allow, we would like to rule out the possibility. May we take a retinal scan?"

The lawyer acted as if to intervene: "Yaro, as your lawyer, I'd…"

Yaro made light of the situation by interrupting: "Dace, you tend to get too lawyery sometimes. How can it matter if we oblige? Go right ahead. Boy, cooperate."

"Yes master. What's a retinue scan?"

"Retinal. They just want a picture of your eye."

It was the woman who retrieved a small scope from her bag. The boy seemed indifferent as he walked toward her and stopped a foot [30 cm] away. It was over before he could hardly blink. The man took out a remote monitor and shaking his head in the negative, announced. "Not even close. Disappointing but not unexpected. We thank you for your cooperation."

Yaro, dressed more like a fop than anything else, asked with only moderate sincerity: Why not make your trip here have some compensation. I would invite you to partake in our sumptuous repast." Pointing to the layout before them.

Twenty minutes later, after another friend of Yaro's, who had secreted himself in the natatorium, after he had waved several monitoring devices about, himself announced: "Shall we adjourn to the house?"

He then addressed the group: "It would appear that no electronics have been left behind, but I will have a professional come tomorrow to make certain."

When he had gone, Yaro asked his boy his opinion.

"Master, I felt a small touch to my arm when that woman put that scope up to my eye. She also took a limited DNA scan. Both electronic results I was able to adjust. They also felt genuinely disappointed. I believe we fooled them."

Chapter 6
Strike & Counterstrike

The leader of the team spoke: "We regret that we have no results. The disappearance of Grant Blantoff, and Lady Bismark Garfon, had confirmed their complicity in the boy's kidnapping, but we have not yet been able to locate them. As reported earlier, the 'safe-suit' worn the boy had been rigged to self-destruct, but we believe that it was to be used as a ruse. We believe that the plan all along was to make the boy disappear. Blantoff and Garfon were clearly been recruited by someone else who coordinated everything. They certainly did not mastermind this conspiracy. And in fact, there had to have been some additional leak. Neither would have known about all the boy's tracking implants and where they were located. And there simply was not enough time to have discovered and removed them by other means. Unfortunately, we have discreetly interrogated all possible staff with true-scan and nothing. So far we have spent almost a quarter billion in man-hours and resources, but we will continue if you so decide."

Kako Menhare Risenhour IV, sat smugly content. He was congratulating himself on how he made Garfon and Blantoff so totally disappear. He would have preferred an exploding safe-suit and evidence of the boy's death, but he would do with a seven year wait until the boy was announced legally dead. Especially since the boy's disappearance, he has been quietly consolidating his position with the board.

Though greatly scaled down, the hunt for the missing boy would be continued. Unfortunately, there was absolutely no physical lead from the point of the kidnapping. And merely speculation without evidence as to what really happened to the boy. By this time it is believed that if the boy were still alive, he was probably taken off planet. All ship manifests, and passengers for the time in question, had been thoroughly investigated and all leads failed to produce any results.

And so for all the plans of mice and men. And slaves.

It was one week later, and about 10 months into the disappearance, when a startling development occurred. The head of the board, currently one Gladno Partup, was a bit startled when a spot in the air before him light up announcing the arrival in his office of a priority one missive – needing immediate attention even so far as disrupting a full meeting of the B/R/D Board. He was about to excuse himself when an audio pip came from his ear bud. Quite unusual. It announced a priority one alert from his chief of staff. He made a sub vocal command and then listened. His usual undemonstrative façade crumbled a bit as he was informed that there was a package purportedly from the missing boy.

The head of the Board stood, cutting off the current speaker and he announced the reason for the interruption.

"I need you attention."

The room grew quiet.

"I have been just now informed that a micro null-time transport box, purportedly from Kalli Menhare Risenhour, has made its way into my office and will be brought here momentarily."

He sat. Everyone else waited. Four minutes later a small container, no more than one inch [2½ cm] across, primarily used in ultra small null-time cargo-ship delivery, found its way into Partup's hand after it had been scanned every possible way to dismiss any possibility of nefarious intent. It was opened and three objects tumbled out. Two small vials purported to be, by label, one containing a drop of blood, and the other, a small tissue sample. The third item was an ultra small holo projector capable of only 250 terabytes of data. As it was placed on a flat surface a full 360-holo image of a small boy appeared. Almost all in the assembly made some gasp of surprise or other movement.

A short video recording then played.

"Hello. Most of you will not recognize me. My appearance has been changed. But I am indeed Kalli Menhare Risenhour. And I am certainly alive. This holo contains a tamper proof time seal, indicating that it was made less than five days ago. I wish, first of all, to affirm that I am totally OK. In fact doing quite well. In fact doing so well that I do not intend to return until my 18th birthday. I am sure you all know of its significance. There are two more items I wish to address. One, whoever becomes chief-officer-in-charge of the B/R/D conglomerate after Kako is ousted, I make one heart felt plea. Please be concerned about the people who labor but have little voice in government or even their lives. The second item I wish to talk about is the conspiracy leading to my kidnapping. Please note that I was not killed outright so perhaps the conspirators deserve some measure of leniency. I suspect there were more people involved but three names I do know…"

At this announcement, Kako Menhare Risenhour IV started to visibly sweat.

"The three people include the two who were with me on Exilic III when I was kidnapped, namely Grant Blantoff, and Lady Bismark Garfon…."

No surprises there. But several people had already found the boy's remark concerning Kako disconcerting.

The holo continued: "I know as a certain fact that the instigator of the conspiracy was my cousin, Kako Menhare Risenhour IV. Please do what you can and must."

"I would like now to plead in my own behalf. Please stop trying to find me. I hope that the vials, with their tamper proof time seals, should be enough to confirm that I am indeed alive. And a thorough analysis of this holo should prove that I am under no duress. I think duress is the right word. Good day."

What was least as astonishing about the message as to what was said, was what WASN'T said. Nothing about his kidnapping, what happened to him, and how he (evidently) came out of it (apparently) unscathed.

A buzz of alarm and shock went throughout the room. Kako decided it best to merely maintain his innocence. And continued to claim that the entire video was an elaborate hoax concocted by his enemies. In spite of Kako's protestations, he was removed from his position. It took several weeks to appoint another chief-officer-in-charge. It took longer to discover that there was not enough evidence to convict Kako Menhare Risenhour IV of anything. And he had too many confederates still on the board to entirely negate his influence. But he was no longer in direct control of the far-flung empire.

And unfortunately for Kalli, his plea had the opposite effect; he was being sought with renewed industry.

Even two months later, and in spite of the renewed efforts by the Omega Block to find the boy, no new leads were uncovered. Even the investigation into the origin and means of delivery of the small container, purportedly from the missing heir, lead nowhere. Everyone was baffled by how all possible traces of its delivery method and route seem to have been entirely erased. The DNA samples had proven genuine. However, there were those who still believed that it was all a hoax. But again how the time seals could have been tampered with was again another unknown.

But something significant did happen. A low-level clerk made the small discovery that the agents sent to P'rernk to investigate the appearance there of a conditioned slave who would seemed to have fit the correct timeline, so as to possibly be the missing boy, had only obtained electronic confirmation of both retinal and DNA confirmation. It was a week after that when this information made its way to the desk of Jake Jakempsky, the right hand man of Joan Dafne, the person now heading the team to find the errant heir.

Jake realized that such electronic data streams could have been tampered with before they made their way into secure data banks. Remote but definitely possible. And company policy was to obtain actual tissue samples which must accompany all electronic DNA data collections. It took another three days before Jake got around making further inquiry. (After all, it was not deemed a priority task).

The woman agent who had interviewed the boy on P'rernk, replied to his full link com inquiry: "We have no reason to believe that the results of the boy's retinal scan and the DNA scan are in any way incorrect. In addition, we are quite well trained in noting even minute changes in a person's demeanor and movement that could indicate any manner of deceit. There were none."

Jake asked mildly: "Just why didn't you also acquire an actual tissue sample?"

The woman was visibly uneasy. "I always wondered that myself."

"Now you're confusing me. It would have been you and your partner who would have collected it."

"Yes. And I always follow protocol. But it wasn't until we were already off planet before we realized that we hadn't obtained one. This is in our original report. And to return for one was deemed unnecessary."

Jake by now was quietly fuming. "How can two experienced and competent operatives forget to get a sample?"

There was more consternation on the face of the agent. "We honestly could never figure that out. And I still can't. It has always perplexed me."

Jake ended the unsatisfactory call. As he sat, that something was not quite right niggled at him. He sent the data streams to the company's electronics lab purely on a hunch.

Speaking to one of the techs Jake insisted: "Look, do an in depth analysis. Not just the normal run-through."

After a complete lab scan, it was deemed that the data streams had indeed been tampered with. The next day, one of their electronic experts reported back. He made the following observation: "The data streams have some subtle discontinuities. And the DNA sequencing is very strange. It has sequences never before mapped in the human genome. If forced to make a determination I would say that both the optical scan and the DNA mapping have somehow been tampered with. But don't ask me how. No method I know of could possibly have produced such convincing results. They evidently fooled our original screening."

It took another day for this report to be brought to the attention of Joan Dafne, the head of the Investigative Division of the Omega Block, who immediately exploded after scanning the reports. She consequently pulled up from her own database a holo of the boy taken by the original investigators. She then consigned those two agents (metaphorically) to the coldest depths of hell, and voiced a command which brought Jake Jakempsky to her 10 foot [3 m] long real teak wood desk, forthwith.

Joan handed Jake a small mem-cube and with her usual command voice commanded: "Jake, you personally will take our fastest null-time ship, along with your usual team, and with the greatest dispatch possible considering you have a limitless expense account, and find this boy. I personally believe that he, the 12 year old conditioned slave of one Yaro Kwarto, and our missing heir, are one in the same. Or convinced enough to spend a lot of credits sending you on this mission. His last known location is precisely 12.3 kilometers [7.6 miles] north of Pern, Mandela Province, P'rernk. Supposedly the conditioned slave of one Yaro Kwarto who resides at that location. That our boy is indeed such a slave would answer a lot of unanswered questions. Especially as to how he disappeared so completely. You will obtain a physical tissue sample of this boy and prove conclusively that he is indeed our wayward heir. And immediately report back to me in the usual fashion."

"Yes your ladyship." Jake and his boss, though not friends, enjoyed a professional camaraderie. "Just one possible flaw in your reasoning. How is it possible that a conditioned slave, who has been deprived of any significant memory allowing him to recall his previous life, could have been capable of making that holo video?"

Joan smiled: "That's what you will find out when you question him. Do we have any agents currently on P'rernk?"

Jake touched a spot on a screen only he could see. Then several more. "Only one." A short pause, and another verbalization. "Ah. Tempy, a bloke I have had dealings with and he's intelligent enough."

"Good, have him recruit sufficient numbers of sufficient caliber…" Joan gave thought to possible scenarios. "No, change that. I do not want to alert anyone else that we are interested in anyone on that planet. Just make contact and find out if that boy is still where he was last year. Damn! More than 15 months since he's disappeared. Ten months at that location. He'd now be 13. The boy's residence is not registered in any of the planet's data-banks. Something about property not legally having a residence. Nor is he listed in any data stream listing property. Nor has the annual slave tax been paid on him yet this planet's year. So by now the boy could be anywhere. And even worse, resold to anyone. And I personally will be investigating exactly how the boy, if indeed it is Kalli, could have been accepted and conditioned as a slave. I guarantee people will fry."

Jake smiled at his boss's intensity. "Just one more thing superboss, how come you are so suddenly all fired believing this is not a wild damnbat chase?"

Joan picked the small data cube. "This is the 360-holo the two agents originally made of the boy on P'rernk. The boy from whom they failed to take an actual tissue sample."

When Jake saw the holo and swore. In four languages. He was willing to be convinced. "How many parameters of facial recognition in conformity with the holo video that kid sent to the board?"

"Ninety four out of ninety eight."

"Damn! We could have had the boy more than six months ago!"

Just as Jake was about to leave her office Joan called out: "That Tempy, he's not to know of whom we seek. Construct a convincing lie which will keep him satisfied." And a second later Joan yelled after Jake's retreating back: "Any psi on our company's payroll? Might help you determine if the boy is using any of his abilities."

Jake blinked several times. Jake had only known of one and despised the guy. He also had an ego even larger than his own. "May I shop outside?"

Joan considered this request for a moment and replied: "No. I don't want the necessary delay. Or any possibility of a leak."

"Very well, but he's only a +2."

"Sufficient. I want a report every hour or whenever anything significant happens. Take care. I feel good about this. And oh yes. I'll leave it to your discretion whether or not to bring the boy back here. But above all make sure he stays safe. I do want, however, in any case, to communicate with this boy myself as soon as his identity is confirmed. Absolutely no leaks. Even if this causes some minor delay."

As Jake left, he speculated just why Joan considered it a possibility that he would not return with the boy. And then he mentally tossed a coin. 'Ok,' he thought, as he tossed it again. "Damn!" he vocalized. According to his mental coin, something totally awry and unanticipated will try to make a mess of his mission.

As he started making secure com calls to four, no, five people including that psi, he tried to envision that same boy whom he'd spoken to exactly once, and that was more than two years ago when he was on the kid's security detail. He remembered an overly serous lad who never smiled. And who seemed lonely despite being surrounded by people much of the time.

And now a slave? A cold damn day in hell. A real slave! He'd never even known of one. Totally illegal on Salinus II. Then he chuckled to himself. From a multi-trillionaire to an impecunious slave. Maybe there was a deity with a sense of humor. And he then sent a note to himself to find out about the world of conditioned slaves, and all there was involved. And all possible outcomes of having gone through that process. He knew for certain that it was outlawed on well more than half of all Federation worlds. And only tolerated by the Federation government on the remainder.

Jake was chagrined to discover that one of his usual four member team had been given a leave of absence that very morning. He'd need a replacement.

Then Jake had a thought. He wondered. He made a short search on his own com, on the spot deciding to 'waste' several hours of his mission time, that is if he could contact the guy and hire him.

Thus Jake made a sixth secure com call. It was worth a shot. He got lucky, the man was home – it was in the middle of the night on Calfon II at this person's residence.

The reply was voice only: "Identity blocked? [Two expletives deleted]. This [deleted] com call had better the [deleted] get me a whole lot richer! Give me your name or I close the call right now."

(This manuscript will leave out all expletives biological in nature, since they are not germane to the story).

Jake only knew the guy by reputation. Sort of retired now even if still in his late 30s. His name was Tan Keng Yam. Not an agent strictly, but he'd gone through a thorough security check as a Temp Agent, and was hired as needed.

"Jake Jakempsky, of the Omega Block."

The voice seemed to vary in intensity as it replied. "Damn! Maybe I will get richer after all. I've worked with you guys before. But who specifically are you?"

"As I said. Jake Jakempsky, Omega Block. I'm in the Investigations Division. We've been employed to find someone. Keng Yam, if you decide you want to get richer, I'll schedule a rendezvous with you on Delta IV, in… 13 hours, 10 minutes!"

(Delta IV was a large satellite platform mainly in use for non-military null-time deep-space ships and in synchronous orbit above Calfon II).

There was a short pause. Jake could hear a high-pitched yelp in the background. "Caught me… in the middle of something. Just a minute, let me check something."

Keng Yam returned to continue the call: "No can do Mr. Jake Jakempsky. The earliest extra atmosphere shuttle I can make will get me there in 16 hours give or take. Tringus has no damn Sky-hooks."

[Tringus was the residents' name for their planet, designated Calfon II in formal communications.]

"You can get there in eight hours if you go directly to Honesty Base and hire your own shuttle. I will give you an Omega Block credit line."

Another pause and some additional high-pitched squeals in the background. A heavily breathing voice replied: "I can see my credit account bulging as we speak… Just a moment."

Jake could hear a few additional high-pitched vocalizations and then a loud smack. He was getting impatient. A few minutes later, Keng Yam came back to the com. Must have been on a very narrow field setting.

"Sorry, you caught me at a very inopportune time. I had some unfinished business. I don't suppose you can give me very much information right now?"

"No. Big time security. We need your expertise. That's all I can give you now. But it will not be dangerous and may possibly be interesting."

"Ha! The last time someone told me that, I was in a hospital for a week regenerating a kidney. And by the way, that will be passage for two. I never go anywhere without my slave. And he does not get shipped as cargo. I have a Fed Two Passport, with provisions for my boy." (Just below that of a formal diplomat).

"I wouldn't think of making you leave your ah,… slave behind. VIP for both of you all the way. I need his name for the visa to where we're going.

A short chuckle. "I call him boy. You may capitalize that if you must. And he's thrilled. He's not been off planet his entire life. And by the way, depending on the planet of destination, instead of a visa, my boy may need to be designated on a special properties manifest. And since I actually have time to spare, I'll be celebrating my increase to a new income tax bracket by pushing my considerable cock (a small exaggeration, pun intended) back into my boy's accommodating black hole as soon as this call is completed."

Jake thought: 'Entirely TMI.'

His boy thought: 'Master's tryin' to wear out my butt hole.' He slipped out of his master's grasp and scampered off to get the lubricant, and dutifully prepped himself.

Jake ended the call with the usual routine for confirming the authentication of such a call. "Call me back using the imbedded security code to confirm."

The returning com call took another minute. Jake called Joan to fill her in while on the way to catch his own shuttle.

"Jake, you only have one security man then?" Joan inquired.

"So far."

"How about Tom Vescue? He's just back from a gig in the capital setting up security for some off world diplomat."

"Don't know him. You know how I prefer my own people."

"Just a thought. I can vouch for him."

"I know your 'vouch' is better than a 'ten-day' and thanks for the suggestion, but I already have a 'com-alert' going for Big Sue Ndamukong. And her being so black will allow her to blend in better on P'rernk."

(A 'ten-day' is parlance for doing a full mission with a person, of at least ten days duration. A 'com-alert' is sort of like a message service which actively tracks down the person).

The com call was terminated and Jake went to the roof to catch his own shuttle to his planet's North Continental Sky-hook. As he re-visited everything he'd recently set in motion, Jake thought about Tan Keng Yam. Not only an expert on Conditioned Slaves, he was apparently bringing his own. Looked to be an interesting ride, albeit an added complication. And he chuckled to himself as he remembered that his company's psi was a total homophobe. He was now wondering if Keng Yam's boy would be kept naked. He almost laughed aloud as he imagined various scenarios.

As he opened the door to the company shuttle for Jake Jakempsky, the steward wondered just what his passenger thought was so hilarious. His passenger kept chuckling quietly off and on for several minutes.

As he was about to take a berth in the Sky-hook, 50 minutes later, Jake had one more thought. Thus, later, from the company's fastest null-time ship, the Explorer IV, where he anxiously waited for the fifth member of his coterie, the damn psi whom Joan had saddled him with, he spoke with said boss on a secure com.

"Your ladyship, I will be landing at Calfon II to pick up one Tan Keng Yam. He's in our files. It will be obvious why I decided a three-hour detour was acceptable. Anything you want to add to my overloaded itinerary?"

Joan was familiar with Jake asking for further instructions. It meant he'd thought of something his boss could be doing. "OK Jake. Out with it. What did you think I missed?"

"Are we still looking for conspirators and additional evidence against Kako Risenhour?"

"Already on it." Joan, in the middle of some of her own com calls, almost impatiently hurried this call along. "And Jake, we're currently looking into all possible conditioning facilities where our boy may have been sent. And this Keng Yam, I just looked him up. He should know all about such places on his home planet. A friendly law system concerning conditioned slaves in several of their countries, coupled with a generous tax brake, makes the planet a haven for such places."

Back on Calfon II, a certain little boy was squealing at a rather high decibel level as the rather modest 5½ inch [14 cm] manhood of his randy and exuberant owner kept a good pace plowing his boy butt hole. The small boy, of mixed racial heritage, a cute combination of very black skinned Indian and a small boned Chinese. And perhaps other admixtures. Whatever was in the mix, his DNA had produced a genome of superlative boy lover quality. The usually shy boy topped the scales at not quite 60 pounds [27 kg]. But Keng Yam believed the boy all he could handle. The perfectly formed body with its very dark, nearly black hued skin Keng Yam believed to be the epitome of boy sex on two legs. The boy was certainly prepubescent with a diminutive 3 inch [7½ cm] boner when fully erect with mere marbles in the dusky dark sac attached to its base. Keng Yam especially liked exploring the boy's relatively large butt hole with its myriad folds of boy flesh leading into its velvety interior. And in spite of the boy's age and relative size, that slave conditioning facility had made the boy a regular dervish in the sac.

And for the very first time in his short life, the little boy would be venturing off planet. He was both anxious at this interference to his usual routine, but too excited about the trip yet to feel it.

Several hours later, having given his master several hours of almost frenzied man-boy sex, the boy lugged his master's heavy travel bag from the room where it was packed and down the hallway to the elevator leading to carport on the building's roof.

"Boy, that bag has to weigh more than you do," the boy's master said with pride. "Anxious to get going?"

The boy smiled, and with uncharacteristic verve looked up at his master who, to the boy, seemed to tower over him, and spoke. "Oh yes master. This boy awaits his master's pleasure."

In truth his master, short himself at five foot three [1.60 m], only exceeded his boy's height by 15 inches [38 cm]. And to the small 10 year old (a year since he'd been 'stopped' at age 9) his master was perfect for him.

The boy was well versed in his slave protocols. Even if he didn't understand their significance. He simple wanted to please his master. He'd let his master worry about everything else; it was one of the very many perks of being a slave. Over the past year he'd come to hold his master in high regard and true affection, if not outright love. And living with his master was so easy. He couldn't remember a single time when his master even yelled at him, let alone punished him. Life with his master was so easy. And so rewarding. Especially the sex. And especially since his master literally never did anything without him. And especially since his master kept teaching him everything. And especially a lot of other things he was realizing.

"Boy, have you packed yet?" The boy lifted a small bag which couldn't have weighed more than 4 pounds [1.8 kg]. The boy giggled and added: "I included every stitch of clothing I own master."

Keng Yam looked into the small bag and suddenly wondered if his boy might actually need clothing this trip. His boy's bag contained some of his boy's favorite sex toys, including a comfortable mouth gag and muzzle, two different sized butt plugs, and a neural prostate stimulator. And leather handcuffs. And yes, it also contained the entire sum of the boy's clothing. Which meant no clothing at all.

"How tall are you boy?" Keng Yam grabbed his naked boy who squealed as his master's hands steered him by his small genital protrusion.

Keng Yam tried to judge his boy's height next to his own body. "About four feet [1.20 m], or a tad more," he thought. "Perhaps I'll need more careful measurements," he considered as his boy maneuvered around his master, and literally tried to push him out of their door. The boy grunted with futile exertion.

"Mas-teeer," the boy said with a near breathless grunt, "…you said we must leave by five minutes ago."

Keng Yam gathered up both boy and bag, carrying his boy and pulling the other atop its anti-grav base. Ten minutes later, as he boarded the hired shuttle car to Honesty Base, he called a 27 hour Everything Store and ordered his boy some clothing. Just in case. The boy's clothing was to arrive at the base at just about the time he did.

"I'm getting clothes, master?" the boy exclaimed with a question mark.

Keng Yam ran his hand over the short-cropped fine wiry hair of his boy with a pride of ownership and the care of a kind master. "What color you think you'd look good in boy?"

"Skin color, master. I 'member 'zactly. You said that my black skin should never be covered."

Keng Yam smiled remembering the incident just after he'd bought his special boy and taken him home. He'd packed the boy in a small grav-plated carryall so he could get the much cheaper cargo rate. When he got his boy home and unpacked him, he'd thought to himself what a contrast between the boy's unblemished skin and the white of the packing material. And was struck by the anomaly of his fine wire-brush hair, rarely seen in today's mixed racial ethnicity throughout their diverse society.

"What I said boy, was that I liked your unusually black skin, and where it covered your little boy butt, and even darker boy parts, it should never be covered."

The boy smirked as he was had long recognized what effect his naked body had on his master. He replied: "Master, I like being starkers, even if its so 'barrassin' at times. 'Specially with my boner sticking out mostly."

The driver of the conveyance was a little taken aback at the totally naked boy, with his black 3 inch [7½ cm] boner leading the way. Then merely said to himself, "the customer can do whatever, so long as the tip was big enough."

The tip was.

"Master, can I look out the window?"

The 'window' he was speaking about was in the small hired shuttle taking them to Honesty Base. Though it wasn't really a window at all. But it acted as one when a control was hit and the molecules aligned themselves properly. Honesty Base was four hours and three time zones to the east. The boy was a lot disappointed when all he could see out the window, to which his face was glued, were just a bunch of zooming-by lights. Real little ones way down.

The disappointed boy turned to ask his master, who was smiling at the boy and taking part in his boy's delight. And then his boy's dismay.

"What's the matter boy?"

"Can't see nothin' master."

"Nighttime right now boy. But in a very short while we'll see a sort of sunrise. Then we go over The Lowe Mountain range highest in the country. That's when it gets real spectacular, and especially all the deep canyons just after, and then more city before we finally get to the east coast where you should see the ocean if it's clear."

(Which it frequently wasn't).

The boy made an effort to remember all his master said. He wondered how mountains could be low and high at the same time. He got all excited all over again as he saw a small the sky brightening and a slim band of light appear. Keng Yam absolutely loved getting his own emotions highjacked by his boy. Besides the sex and the companionship, this was one of the most important reasons he liked having his boy. Reliving his own youthful memories through the eyes of his boy. He felt a number of years younger already since he had the boy, and he had a very much renewed joy in life.

The pilot heard the two on the intercom and recognized what was in the offing when he heard the small boy call the guy master. He decided not to quibble about sexual relationship he'd normally decry. This, a last second trip, would pay him almost a week's normal salary. Later, after listening to much of their conversation over the intercom, he wondered at the boy's apparently happy relationship with his 'master.' Calfon II had its share of acceptable sexual couplings so that he's seen a lot of very different pairings and more. Oh well, it just hit him strange when the boy showed up with nary a stitch. And with a jutting penis no less.

As the pilot received a generous smile and an even more generous tip upon the guy's debarkation, he decided maybe he'd give them good slack. Live and let live was the planet's unofficial motto after all.

The boy could not be contained after the beautiful and amazing scenes had been on display below him and everything else he was experiencing for the first time. But as he entered Honesty Base, he suddenly felt naked for the first time in quite some time.

His master started carrying the boy who had been pulling back on his master's hand.

"Boy, obey."

The boy, though with some anxious looks at all the people whom he was certain was staring at his 3 inch [7½ cm] stiff wiener, obeyed. And again regained a good measure of composure in that very act.

When they stopped at the security check, the boy exclaimed in a loud whisper: "Master, they're all starin' at me!"

Keng Yam looked about and replied. "Good; be proud boy. They're looking because you are so totally cute." To himself he thought: 'And envious.'

In fact, there was only the occasional stare, and only a few remarks.

"At the gate, boy, we'll collect some clothes. If it makes you feel better, you may cover yourself. Though by that time we'll be boarding our next ship. And we'll probably be the only people on it."

A cautiously optimistic boy answered in a shy voice: "Yes master. As you wish." Another portion of his slave protocol. It is always as his master wished. Even him being naked.

The boy still had the gumption to chide: "Master, if I die of embarrassment you will be very unhappy."

Keng Yam chuckled. "Boy, you can make me nothing but proud and happy. I'm showing you off."

It was an implied command, according to the boy's conditioning. He immediately stopped worrying about getting some clothes. Which he never did put on for a number of hours.

Keng Yam feared they would board before the currier from the store got there. He made it with only minutes to spare. Keng Yam used the Omega Block credit line to pay for everything. Except tips. And he was feeling generous. And he realized he never did get a line on his commission for this outing. And the only thing he knew about it was that he was needed for his expertise on Conditioned Slaves.

There was not a single wayward look by the staff of the space shuttle as he joined the cue. Or what would have been the cue if not for the fact that he and his slave were the only passengers. And technically even his boy was legally regarded as cargo.

The captain, three pilots (for safety precaution), and two hosts – he'd asked for men, as young as possible – for (technically) one passenger. This must be costing a small fortune. Correction. A big fortune.

"Welcome Mr. Kan, security has been already taken care of. We need only to scan your bag. And yourselves of course," one of the base's security employees enthused.

Keng Yam well knew the regimen. His boy giggled as Keng Yam laid him on the personal property scanning belt. The security guard raised an eyebrow.

"Slave. Property."

The man actually laughed. "Thanks for the story I'll be telling my wife tonight. And the kids. They'll get a good laugh."

Unfortunately, the property scanner beeped.

Keng Yam had forgotten about the boy's metal collar.

"The boy's collar. I forgot. It can only be cut off and I'd truly not want that to happen if I can avoid it."

The man commiserated. "Just give me a second."

Two minutes later, the man returned. "Since the boy is legally cargo, I can use the hand scanner and use my best judgment about what to allow."

The boy started giggling when his collar was actually tagged. And almost erupted in a giggle fit when he himself was tagged – the tag having been attached to his boner. Keng Yam starting wondering about the guy. His hand made more than incidental contact to both the boy's genitals and his cute black boy-butt.

The man added: "Just beware. Only the security on the other end can remove the tags. They confirm that the cargo was checked and deemed safe for transport."

They all had a good laugh except for the captain. Who wanted to make the next space jump window, and was actually more impatient than concerned about the 'cargo.' The boy, for a moment, had even forgotten all about his naked body until his boner became the site for the tag.

It was quite a trip for both boy and man. Keng Yam because of the unaccustomed luxury, the boy, because of the sheer excitement and novelty. And a feature on the luxury ship, another window. (Actually a digital HD screen which approximated the real view by several real time digital visual sensors).

The boy was thrilled by the detailed images of the two moons and the sight of the distant second red dwarf of the system.

"Master," the boy pulled his master out of his own revelry. "What's that big black disk with the red halo?"

Keng Yam took great delight in my boy's excitement. It almost became his own. He explained about the sun. "The screen blocks out the brightest light from the near sun when in view."

As Keng Yam and his boy approached the station, they were informed that it would be inappropriate for the boy to be unclothed. Otherwise, he'd be placed in a 'holding room' until the moment of boarding the deep space null-time ship. It was explained that, unlike most countries on the planet below, some of the people in the station could very well be offended by his parading around a naked boy. With what they would also consider obscene, his stiffie. (The word 'stiffie' was Keng Yam's translation. A favorite word of his boy).

Keng Yam took umbrage at first but finally recognized that he was quite acculturated to seeing a naked boy by his side, while others may not. Both man and boy went absolutely everywhere together. He demanded it of his slave boy, even so far as never allowing his boy to pee or poop without the boy's master being at the slave's side. He took possession of his boy entirely. Every facet of the boy and his existence was Keng Yam's possession.

"Boy, when was the last time you wore clothing?"

"Master? More than a year, master."

"Well you're going to wear something today."

Keng Yam couldn't believe his boy and his clothes. He kept putting on piece after piece yet never being entirely covered, modeling them for his master, and giggling throughout the display. He almost made it a game. Even the attendant he had laughing. He finally settled on shorts, sleeveless shirt, and sandals.

And his collar. It was quite substantial. A yellow gold and platinum swirl in a smooth oval about 2/3 inch by 1/3 inch [17 by 8 mm] in cross section. And welded closed. It had to be cut off to be removed. The boy's slave collar, having replaced the relatively lightweight composite one put on during his training, was so much heavier. It weighed almost three-fourths of a pound [350 g], and it had taken the boy a good month before he got used to it around his neck. There were also two internal clips opposite each other. And a long gold chain leash that went with it but Keng Yam rarely used it. His boy was his boy he reasoned, not his pet.

The pair had to wait for several hours until the Explorer IV birthed. Then they were almost hurtled aboard and were off again in under an hour. Must have taken a real sum of money to spin the station wheel that fast.

The luxury of the ship was evident everywhere he looked. But it was when they boarded the ship when the real fun started. The others, to whom he was hastily introduced, were surprised to see a small child brought aboard. And when Keng Yam learned that their destination was P'rernk, he was more than flabbergasted.

He was holding onto his (clothed) boy quite tightly as he exclaimed: "P'rernk? Except for that security person you introduced me to, and perhaps for my own boy, none of us here are sufficiently ethnic black African of old earth. Even if you could get visas it would take months!"

Jake replied with a lopsided smile: "It took us three hours. Your's included. And the confirmation of a multi-billion credit contract over the next two years."

Keng Yam was usually difficult to shock. But his fingers bit into his boy's shoulder until the boy moaned. He immediately picked his boy up and kissed his shoulder, and then his lips. Later in bed, he'd be apologizing the way that meant something. His boy was capable of having dry orgasms in quick succession.

Keng Yam exclaimed: "Holy [expletives deleted]! How much money is behind this mission anyway?"

Jake's smug attitude didn't show when he replied blandly: "Unlimited expense account."

Keng Yam whistled. He held onto his boy and started thinking. Why was he on this mission? It must involve a conditioned slave boy. Or did it? And if so what else?

"What can this possibly have to do with me and my boy?"

The entire group just then heard the voice of the Captain. They'd already left docking and would be in null-time sequencing in two minutes.

Keng Yam remarked: "Damn that was fast. What's so critical about the time? Especially since you must have taken about five to six hours just to pick me up?"

Jake corrected him: "Three hours added time. Time is not critical but important. But before anything else, how about taking care of your boy, and then meeting with me in the Captain's state room?" Phrased as a request, it felt like an order.

"State room huh? Damn fine ship. Not many can afford to run a ship like this. Especially for what, six passengers?"

"Counting your boy, seven."

Keng Yam had only seen two others besides himself and Jake. And his boy.

"Entering null-time space," came over the public address system.

Jake explained: "Eight hours to P'rernk. So although we have a lot of time, I don't want to presume we have all the time in the world. Take care of your slave; he can be put in the first birth, and then we can discuss the mission and your part in it."

Keng Yam looked up at this Jake fellow – about 12 inches [30 cm] upward – and was trying to put a 'make' on him. He must obviously be competent or he wouldn't be allowed to spend money like this. But was he a micro-manager type or a facilitator? Or worse? He'd soon find out.

Keng Yam was still holding his boy. Who had a near death grip on his master. Keng Yam could tell how his boy had momentarily reverted to old behavior. Shy, in need of strength from a source outside himself, yet willing to do as his master ordered. Even if it meant confronting his fears, and a crowd of strangers. It couldn't help that he had those strange clothes on. Keng Yam assumed that by now his boy was hot and uncomfortable. He could feel a bit of his boy's boy-sweat. Before Keng Yam would reply to Jake's request, he set his boy down to be attended to.

The boy smiled and hid behind his master as he was being de-cloaked. His little boy cocklet sprung outward. He looked down and giggled. He was a bit more in his comfort zone. And in his master's lust zone.

Jake stood there and watched. Totally a lady's man but even he could appreciate just how cute the boy was. Especially how the boy reacted to seeing his own little penis stick so rigidly outward. Jake had never seen such a display from such a small boy before. And he'd rarely ever seen skin so black.

He was also trying to figure out this strange man. This strange slave owner. This enigma whom he'd have to make part of a team in less than eight hours.

The boy just stood there naked and was finally secure enough to look about. His eyes were taking in everything. It was actually he who spoke first. "Master, permission to speak?"

"Sure boy."

"Master, who's the big man?"

Keng Yam laughed. "Hopefully that big man there will be my very accommodating, thoughtful, and generous boss."

Jake was starting to like this guy. Now to determine if he could trust him when literally trillions were possibly on the line. Now that the ice was broken by a naked four footer [1.20 m] (or there abouts) Jake tried to get things going.

The big man looked at his (hopefully) expert on conditioned slaves. "I never introduced myself. Jake Jakempsky."

Keng Yam smiled back. And noticed that, aside from his own boy, they were now alone. "Keng Yam. Tan Keng Yam. At your service. I assume. And this is my boy. My slave." Keng Yam pulled his boy from behind him. "Say hello to the big man, boy."

The boy looked up with a small smile. In a small voice he spoke: "Hello big man."

Jake finally decided it was time to get to business. "Keng Yam, perhaps if you could get your boy comfortable in the first birth."

Keng Yam spoke lightly but was adamant: "My boy is always with his master." And with a humorous smirk he added: "I'll order him not to spill any secrets."

Jake was nothing if not a good judge of both men and circumstances.

"Good."

Jake strode off to the state room and allowed his 'at will' agent (and slave) to follow.

Once there, Keng Yam sat and pulled his boy onto his lap whose own interest was engaged by the view from the screen across the room which was showing a simulation of their progress through space.

Jake got right to business. "Keng Yam, you're here mainly because I wanted an expert in conditioned boy slaves. This you already know. But you are probably asking why."

Jake was trying to judge the man before him. He'd read his file. He also knew enough about him to consider trusting him with such a mission.

At the pause, Keng Yam filled the silence. "OK, why?"

Jake showed a holo of his quarry. "This is our person of interest. What can you tell me about him?"

Keng Yam looked to his left at the holo of which was to him, an unknown naked boy, with 'outstanding' penis, perhaps 11 or 12 years old, of an unusual ethnicity, though slightly off-white with dark ivory toned genitals and areolae, the boy still had blond hair and startlingly blue eyes. He was standing in front of a very black man, of almost stereotypical black African ethnicity, of average height and good slim build. His eyes seemed to be looking at the boy with care, though also with a seeming tension in his stance.

Keng Yam sighed. "A lot. The boy a conditioned slave I presume? But that's not precisely why I'm here. Or so I assume."

Jake replied: "That boy, that is precisely why you're here right now."

Keng Yam looked at the 3D image again. Something about the boy in the image triggered a faint memory, but he couldn't quite bring it to mind.

The small boy was now leaning back against the body of his master with his eyes closed, making small sounds of delight.

Keng Yam, Jake could see, was fondling his boy's genitals. Jake conceded: "OK. I'll get serious if you will."

Keng Yam smiled and set his boy to the floor. "Find your master something to drink, boy. Try those cabinets." Keng Yam pointed.

The boy scooted off with an insouciance only an innocent boy could generate. He soon returned with a decanter, almost too heavy for his small hand, and two glasses.

"Good boy. You can relax but stay in the room."

Keng Yam poured what he discovered was a 50-year-old Glen Loiur Royal Reserve cognac. It would have put much more than a dent in the average person's monthly income. He then filled the one in front of his boss after the second glass was placed down in front of him by his intently focused boy, not the least bothered by his lack of clothing.

Keng Yam then announced to his host,… and boss: "OK, you have my undivided attention."

Jake's attention was still on the boy; he was mildly amused, and not a little intrigued. "Quite a boy."

"Definitely. Good server even at age ten. Of course he's a slave after all. Are you learning about conditioned slaves? He enjoys his life. Watching a master and slave for an hour is worth any number of dissertations from so-called experts."

To Jake the boy seemed small for 10, but took his eyes off the boy and replied: "And your point?"

"As much as my boy here is so much like all other conditioned slaves, he is also different from them all. And our relationship must necessarily differ from all other master-slave pairs. But there is one constant. All conditioned slaves enjoy their lives. To what extent largely depends on how their masters treat them. You should watch my boy here for the time we have remaining." He looked at the wall chronometer. "About 7½ hours I suppose. He's a very happy boy. No matter what you'd offer him he'd never choose anything that does not include his master. Even all the billions the people have who've put you into this ship."

With a bit of mirth Jake amended Keng Yam's comment: "Actually trillions. And you've just answered one very important question. If that boy is now a true conditioned slave, the one we are after, would he eschew his inheritance."

"What trillions, and what inheritance?" Keng Yam was suddenly very interested. It didn't make sense to put the idea of a conditioned and trillions plus inheritance into the same sentence.

Jake now replied with all due seriousness: "The boy we are after. It's Kalli Menhare Risenhour. At least we hope it is."

Keng Yam reacted with almost shock. "Holy gods of harmony!" His reaction was severe enough that his slave ran to his side, crouched down, and peeked at the 'big man' over the shoulder of his master.

Now Keng Yam understood the unlimited expense account. The news about this Kalli Menhare Risenhour's apparent abduction made the news in every corner of the Federation. And the video of his apparent reemergence was replayed ad nauseam and commented on relentlessly by a rapacious media. And suddenly Keng Yam had a mental chill. With this kind of money, all manner of chicanery was possible. Even probable. Damn!

Keng Yam tried to bring to mind everything he knew concerning the abduction. That there was no ransom demand, at least none made public, caused all manner of further speculation. Everything from a family assassination to suicide, from religious fanatics, to old earth political plotting. But this?

Keng Yam's reflexive response, besides the expletive was more from his astonishment then reflective evaluation. "Can't be! Even the crazies hadn't connected the Menhare boy with slavery." Upon further thought, he added: "Of course that could possibly explain his not being found. Though I had personally believed him to be dead."

"Not dead. Or so we believe. There've been some recent developments. We have good information that it is entirely possible, and we believe even probable, that the boy had indeed been made a conditioned slave. And that that holo is of the missing heir."

Keng Yam momentarily renewed the holo image of a naked pre-teen. Small stature for a 12 year old. And a blue eyed blond. Rare these days. Possible inbreeding he speculated to himself.

Collapsing the image he focused his attention on his employer."If that is truly the case, then forget about the trillions being a lure to separate him from his master. He'd never accept even trillions in place of his master. Not only are the boys conditioned, they make particular effort to both vet any buyer and make sure the boy is partnered with a man who complement each other. Lots of money is involved and their reputation is vitally important."

Keng Yam's boy had circled around and was leaning against his master. Keng Yam noticed Jake's eyes on his slave and explained. "My boy here has a great need for physical contact. And to always be with his master. He may gradually grow out of that need but possibly not. Though he will still mature cognitively, his physical form and his emotions will pretty well remain that of an eight year old. And I love him more than my own life."

Jake had an exceptional memory, even for seeming incedentals. "I thought you said he was nine?"

"Yes. But I bought him over a year ago, when he was eight. He's been made into a perpetual eight year old by both chemical means, surgical, and with neural implant. He's also had his memories filtered to remove the memory of who he had been. But retains enough to have his own unique personality. He's also been conditioned by neural mapping and neural growth control to be very accepting of his slavery. He gains contentment and pleasure by obeying and submitting to his master. The boy also has a continuous high libido level. The entire package is greatly connected to sex."

Jake had difficulty understanding why a man wanted an eight year old for sex. And as a sex slave. But he accepted it as something he would never understand. The boy seemed quite content. But much of just what Keng Yam had just stated he'd already read on the ship a bit earlier. But now it was so much more tangible.

Keng Yam then remembered just what Jake had said: "You mentioned some confirmation."

"Keng Yam, first off, thank you for your brief explanation. I assume it is merely a very basic overview. I will probably have more questions later. As for confirmation, I would like you to view a 360-holo video. This was recorded six months ago. I want your expert opinion. I will not provide leading questions."

For the next five minutes Keng Yam was almost motionless as he reviewed the video, presumably sent to the B/R/D Board by the presumptive heir, Kalli Menhare Risenhour.

Keng Yam was both flabbergasted and immensely puzzled. A significant tenant of what he thought he knew about conditioned slaves was being challenged.

Keng Yam finally understood his host's belief that this was indeed Kalli Menhare Risenhour; he opined: "Now I understand where all the money is coming from. You work for the B/R/D Dominium."

"Indirectly. Their board hired us. They've been searching for their kidnapped heir, a totally prepubescent 12 year old at the time of his abduction."

Keng Yam touched the control to re-expand the first holo. "And this? Your technicians determined they're both the same boy?"

An excited slave boy had been attempting to get his master's attention, but according to his slave protocols, he would not disturb his master in conversation. He merely looked at his master with his black hand on his master's wrist.

Momentarily distracted by his slave's attempt to communicate, Keng Yam responded: "Boy, just give your master a few minutes. We're discussing very important stuff."

His boy, still seemingly agitated and excited, nonetheless obeyed without objection.

Dismissing the boy's antics, Jake answered Keng Yam's questions. "Ninety-eight point four percent probability. Even with modern techniques in facial reconstruction."

Jake explained about the two agents obtaining the first holo more than a year ago. The timing would have been quite correct for the boy's disappearance and turning up as a conditioned slave on P'rernk five weeks later.

Keng Yam looked intently at the first holo again. "How certain were the two agents that they indeed were speaking to a conditioned slave?"

"They never questioned it at the time. Not experts but well informed and had been around conditioned slaves before. I rate the probability, giving also other information we have on his master and having traced all his movements since just before his acquisition of his slave to date, as upwards of 70 %. Very subjective evaluation of course. Of course our current mission is to find out if this boy on P'rernk is indeed the lost heir, Kalli Menhare Risenhour."

Keng Yam started brushing his hand through his boy's hair who was now intently staring at both holos, especially the video. By his expression, his excitement was evident.

The boy's master, whose attention was totally absorbed by the video, sat thinking.

"The 360-holo video? How definite is it of the missing heir? Disregarding the verbal content, just including voice analysis."

Jake replied: "If it is the heir, he's changed sufficiently that those who knew the boy a year ago did not recognize him. But he had information that supposedly only the real boy would know. Though too easy to duplicate, nothing in the voice would rule it out. But what the boy said about his abductors seemed probative."

"I dispute that as being conclusive. Enough money is involved, information can be purchased."

"Agreed. Thus again our mission is to discover if the boy on P'rernk is indeed Kalli Menhare Risenhour."

As the holos were collapsed, Keng Yam inquired: "He's still there?"

"An agent who is currently stationed near his master's estate says that a boy, his likeness a match to the original holo, still resides there as we speak. I'm receiving hourly updates."

"Why don't you send in that agent? Why all this expensive fuss?"

"Too much money and power involved. And also remember, someone arranged his disappearance."

"And?"

"His life may very well be in danger if discovered. And there's a possible option. We might just choose not to bring the boy home. Yet."

Keng Yam thought and replied: "Please note. If a conditioned slave, that boy IS home. He would never leave willingly unless in company of his master… And why me?"

"I need immediate answers and you were available. Two things. How can the boy on that video possibly be a conditioned slave? Some believe it's all an elaborate ruse. And two, you and your boy will, hopefully, get to meet the boy. That would hopefully make it definitive, about the boy being a conditioned slave that is."

Keng Yam again picked up his boy and sat him in his lap. The boy squiggled about to get comfortable. And unknown to Jake, to feel his master's engorging penis in his naked butt crack.

'Too bad,' the boy thought, 'that there is cloth between master's penis and my butt.'

"Your boy is quite the touchy-feely type."

"Yes, and I like him that way. We suit each other."

That was when Keng Yam mentioned that most who buy conditioned slaves have a personality mapping done of themselves and the prospective boy to find a best match.

They got back to the problem with the boy in the 360-holo video.

"Jake, as far as I know there has never been an instance of a boy, conditioned by a reputable facility in the past 100 years, who has retained enough memory so that he knew enough about his past life to know his name and who he specifically was, let alone what this boy is purported to have remembered. Of course he could have been coached."

"Good. Let's assume now, for the sake of argument, that there was no coaching. Would it have been possible?"

Keng Yam thought about this for a significant period of time, and finally replied. "You should have gotten a hold of one of those doctors who actually do the conditioning. My best informed guess. Possible. Probability though, approaching zero."

"I must still believe it as a starting point. Otherwise our mission will have garnered major complications. And would point to some elaborate conspiracy."

Keng Yam thought further. "Well they sure can afford it. Do you have a complete dossier on the boy? Before he went missing?"

"Yes."

Keng Yam read from it, while idly fondling his boy' genitals – a boy who finally had his thoughts torn away from the images he had just seen.

Jake returned to the mess to grab a snack.

As the man was leaving the room, the boy again attempted to get his master's attention as per protocol. Keng Yam finally addressed his boy: "Yes boy, what's had you all excited?"

The boy with excited animation, explained.

Thirty minutes later, well into a conversation with Gumper Snike, the company's psi, about the latter's possible role in the upcoming mission, an excited, naked, nine year old black boy, scampered into the same room. Though he was noticeable nervous, he nonetheless knelt next to the 'big man' awaiting his attention.

Jake smiled at the reaction of his compatriot. The man's reaction was unfortunate, he thought. "[Expletive]! An [several expletives] butt boy! Barbaric! It should be outlawed everywhere!" He addressed the boy: "Get your [many more expletives in several languages] ass out of here."

What Jake didn't like, the guy made an effort to kick the boy away from them.

"Touch that boy, and I will do ten times to you what you do to him. He's an innocent. If you wish, take issue with the guy who bought him. He's in the state room."

The boy looked fearfully at whom he regarded as the 'ugly man.' He knelt patiently. As patiently as he was able given the situation. He'd been so totally out of his normal slave routine so much this past day. And he was very tired.

Jake resisted the urge to tell the boy not to kneel. "Yes boy?"

"Sir. Master says he's found something very important." And with a smile that lit up his black face, he added with pride: "An' he said I did too."

Chapter 7
Treasons & Reasons

The last thing Keng Yam thought about before drifting off was what his boy told him about the 'ugly man' and what he tried to do. Keng Yam realized, that for his boy's emotional health, he needed to confront the man before the ship berthed at P'rernk's orbiting commercial station.

Jake on the other hand sought out the psi-able agent again to ask a very important question. "I need your best informed opinion. Could a +5 psi resist the memory filtering which is routinely used to remove unwanted memories to the boys in the very early stages of their conditioning?"

The man took on an air of superiority, and quickly responded. "Probably not. Especially a young boy."

"Probably? I need a definitive answer."

The man drew himself up and haughtily replied: "Possibly, but I doubt it. Of course it would depend on the individual. The number scheme is only approximate. Sometimes specific psi-abilities can be found in a person with a low rating even if one specific ability may be superior. For example, I can easily tell if a person is lying, yet I've been rated only +2. Yet this ability is frequently unavailable to a much higher rated psi."

After what Kang Yam's slave had insisted so convincingly was true concerning the boy in the holos, together with the information that Kang Yam had discovered in Kalli Menhare Risenhour's dossier, that the boy they sought was a +5 psi, Jake's own excitement was palpable. His was now comfortable in his assessment that it was 'most likely' that the boy in the video was the true heir, and a true conditioned slave. And he'd work on that assumption until other evidence proved it untenable.

Except for Keng Yam, Jake assembled his team in the ship's mess.

Big Sue Ndamukong, security, was making good inroads in a hefty serving of a very expensive shell fish delicacy. "Great grub boss."

Cam, communications and surveillance expert, who was fiddling with some piece of electronics, contended: "In this ship its called cuisine." He himself, was content with several cups of the ship's superior coffee. That pot made from a Periwinkle Kona, imported all the way from old earth, would have cost him a day's pay.

Jamal Chan, the other security expert, who'd been on numerous missions with Jake, was munching on some superb and unusually seasoned calamari. Or what was Salinus II's version of it.

His Majesty, a sobriquet for Hister Majenski, a somewhat pretentious academic, was Jake's infinitely useful, 'detail man,' and equipped with an encyclopedic mind and quirky intelligence. He was munching on some excellent chips and clam dip.

Gumper Snike, the company psi, was sitting apart, his expression and demeanor seeming to repel close association.

Jake started the meeting by asking His Majesty about psi-able people.

Hister, glancing over at Snike, expounded. "There is sufficient evidence to indicate that a variety of psi-abilities exist, though exceedingly rare."

Hister spoke about their various abilities and their frequently erratic manifestations.

He concluded: "One of the rarest abilities is the so-called ability to read minds. Though there is no literature on anyone who can actually sift through a person's memories, a rare few have been able to latch on to a person's surface thoughts. The Federation Overgovernment requires all such people to register with them."

Jake then produced a section of Kalli Menhare Risenhour's dossier and highlighted one of the footnotes on page 457. It mentioned the boy's most recent assessment of being a +5 rated psi.

"And what can you conclude about this?"

Hister seemed visibly upset. "Sorry boss, I missed that." Damn the thing was over 1000 pages.

"No longer important. But my question still stands."

Hister replied: "First of all, that so-called rating system is largely bogus. Psi-ability is too erratic and intensely individual to be adequately quantified. I now assume you are asking me if this could have enabled the boy to avoid any significant portion of his memory sifting. From what I know, probably not. That is why it is difficult to believe that the video is of a conditioned slave."

Snike had interrupted several times and seemed offended that he was not the one queried.

They had all been shown the holo taken more than eight months before, purportedly of a conditioned slave, which had been definitively matched to the person in the video.

Jake addressed them all: "Well you all know who our quarry is. And according to my latest information, is still at our target location. But I can now advise you that I have confirmation that indeed the boy we seek is not only a conditioned slave, but we have independent confirmation concerning the facility where he was conditioned and trained. And we also now know the exact date of his entry into that facility. It allows for the exact amount of time necessary to ship a special cargo crate from Exilic III, where the boy was kidnapped, to the facility on Calfon II, where our quarry next appeared.

There were reactions from everyone there.

It was Snike who made the objection: "How can anyone know the exact date the boy entered any facility? The confidentiality of all information about the boys at those places is protected by law."

Jake replied: "Well it just so happens that the boy we have on the ship right now, Keng Yam's slave, recognized the boy in both holos. That his chosen slave name is Nu, and that they had been sold on the same day."

Plans were discussed, and contingencies prepared for. Except for security, the people were dismissed. With these two Jake addressed additional possible problems and scenarios. Both not only excelled in the physical arena, but had a quick intelligence. Though small, Jake believed his team should make this mission another in a line of successes. (Though he was a bit annoyed that he'd one member of the team he'd never worked with before. And thus his paranoia would not allow him yet to trust him 100%).

Though the success of mission itself was his prime motivator, he did have his eyes on his eventual accession to his boss's position as head of the Investigations Division. With his own boss, Joan Dafne, poised for her own rise among the greedy and powerful, Jake had this more modest goal in mind, one for which he'd trained and competed for his entire adult life. And though he and his boss were on friendly terms, he was not above coveting her position. Joan, he knew, was definitely aiming for greater things, which had so far thrust her into one of the highest positions in the Omega Block. She was not only a division head, she was also on the company's political actions committee. One ambitious lady.

Jake decided that time best spent was getting some good sleep. Important to be well rested. Strangely, as he settled into his own berth, there was that one image which got caught in his thoughts. Of that little black boy with his 'outstanding' boner which seemed never to deflate. Just as he was about to doze off, his com expert came to him with a missive from the very planet to which they were headed.

"Sorry Jake. From X."

Jake was suddenly wide-awake after reading the message. His paranoia now in overdrive. "Opinion?"

"Not good. And I don't know this Gaius Temper (who Jake's called 'Tempy') enough to give a reliable speculation. But why in the world would he have three other men with him, never cleared by the Division? Most disturbing. Especially without letting it to be known to us."

Jake sighed. "Yes, most. Get that asshole Snake in here. More instructions."

"You mean Snike?"

"Yeah,… Snike."

As Cam moved toward the door, a small tone sounded in his ear pip. With a small measure of alarm in his voice, he turned back and spoke: "Jake, someone aboard this ship just sent out an unauthorized message."

Jake uttered an extremely ribald ditty detailing an impossible to perform act which included a bodily function. Damn!

"Cam, my paranoia is going into overdrive. Forget Snake. I have decided to trust only those I know… and we'd better warn Tan Keng Yam."

"The pedo?" Cam asked, but with a demeanor and tone that belied his seemingly opprobrious remark.

"Yeah. What do you think of his boy?"

"Cute. I was surprised. I've never seen the like before."

"Me neither. But still…"

"Yeah. Definitely, 'but still…' And that almost obscene boner sticking out all the time."

Jake laughed ironically and asked sardonically: "Think we can trust the slave boy?"

The humor temporarily helped alleviate the tension.

"Cam, on a serious note, as of right now we can trust no one else. Too much money available. Know anyone on P'rernk?"

Cam thought. "Sorry, not for this." And then offered: "Jake, we could delay the mission."

"Definitely not. For numerous reasons, not the least of which what can happen if we do not intervene ASAP. Next option?"

"Send as SOS to Joan?"

"OK. I hate it, but I see no alternative."

Cam had been just about ready to touch the icon, which would have sent the null-time message pulse, when Jake stopped his hand.

"Jake?" Cam asked with mild perplexity.

"Wait on that Cam, I have to think."

Several minutes later Jake asked Cam to scan the area again for spy devices and also called in Big Sue, Jamal, Hister, and after a short delay, Keng Yam."

Keng Yam trailed the others with his naked boy in tow. The boy was barely awake. "This better be important. I had my boy's genitals half way down my throat."

Appearances belied Keng Yam's words, who had quipped the lie out of a perverse annoyance. Jamal, a notorious hetero and borderline homo-hater, was the only one to give it any heed. Jake watched all the people intently and remarked: "Jamal get over it. You can clash with Keng Yam after the mission, but for now he's your bosom pal. Imagine the boy there as a voluptuous Aphrodite with double D's if you have to."

Jamal made production of wrapping his arm over Keng Yam's shoulder. At six feet eleven [2.10 m], he had to reach down. Keng Yam was barely five three [1.60 m].

"And Keng Yam, I've decided to trust you implicitly. We are too few as it is.

At this, Keng Yam pulled his hand away from his boy's bottom and came completely awoke. Though the boy himself was just about sound asleep in his arms.

His Majesty remarked; "Holy boy prong! Even totally zonked!" He was pointing to naked boy's still erect and up thrust black 3 inch [7½ cm] boner. "And is he always naked?"

Jamal sighed, and with exaggerated movement, took another hold of his new best friend. Keng Yam deliberately retaliated by grinding his groin into the man's leg.

Jake was now more than annoyed. "Gentlemen," he said with true steel in his voice. "The mission."

His people knew they no longer had the luxury to be frivolous. Even Keng Yam got dead serious and remarked. "Thanks for your vote of confidence boss. But how come? I could be a Wang Jingwei*."

* A notorious traitor of 20th century old earth. To the Chinese, his name evoked the same odium as did Benedict Arnold in the US, or Quisling in Norway.

"In part, by the way you and your boy interact. And your psychological profile gives no indicators for that kind of treachery. Besides, no one could have known you'd be on this mission. And don't thank me yet. We may not be alive by this time tomorrow. We may have…, I'll amend that. We definitely have serious problems."

Jake Jakempsky described the potential problems, and possible traitors, and other possible known enemies. And asked for opinions. It was finally decided that at all cost, they had to take the boy (and his master Yaro Kwarto) to some safe haven. To be determined as circumstances presented themselves.

Jake added: "There is one more person we can implicitly trust. You may meet up with him."

Jake then showed a small holo of a young man, with a pleasant face, and very dark skin.

Jake continued: "He's non-agency but reliable. In fact he's my son. He's the one who told me of Gaius Temper's three other non-agency companions, whose existence Temper failed to mention in his company transmissions."

Even Cam, who'd been Jake's best friend for years, was surprised at this information; not that Jake had a son, but that he was the mysterious X. But the others had not had a clue about their boss's previous love life.

Jake made no attempt to prevaricate. "A teen age indiscretion. I've been helping him out. And he was already on P'rernk doing a Post Doc. I thought this a near sinecure, so I sent him to spy on Kwarto's residence just before I left Salinus II. He was only a couple hours away and could easily blend in."

Eventually plans were made, hopefully allowing for possible contingencies.

During this confab, Jake also mentioned one additional complication. "We must also be aware that we now know that Yaro Kwarto has two guests. We've just learned that they are a Boyhard Hughes, a 28-year-old retired industrialist and now millionaire nomad, and a young boy whom we might interpret to be another conditioned slave. That has yet to be determined but I figure it very probable."

Jamal asked: "Why probable?'

Jake supplied further information. "The man's companion looks to be approximately 11 to 12 years old, and has been totally naked whenever observed."

Jake then showed a holo taken from very long range of a very large man, somewhat Japanese in looks, together with a small light brown boy, perhaps 11 or 12.

It was His Majesty who supplied additional information. "I've been able to confirm. The guy is totally legit. And according to some sources, totally nuts. A genius, but still nuts. Definitely rich enough to own both a slave – they are rather expensive – but also a fully instrumented Mercedes Class null-time ship capable of traversing Federation space in one jump, and berthing 10."

Cam remarked: "So more than filthy rich. At least a billionaire."

Just then a now wide awake boy, pointing to the boy in the holo, exclaimed: "Master, that's Trouble!"

It was Sue who agreed: "Definitely is boy."

After some laughs and a lot of confusion the boy explained: "NO! Trouble is his nick name. His chosen slave name is Feonty. I know him."

It was Keng Yam who tried to explain. "Never saw any holo but my boy had spoken of this boy many times. One of the boy's who were conditioned at the same facility, and then sold on the same day as himself."

After the commotion died down, Jake summed up the situation. "OK now we are certain of the boy being a slave."

Jake then had a sudden thought. "Hister, find out the name of his ship, and exactly where it's berthed. I want this information by the time we get to the station above P'rernk."

Jake was still troubled as he again tried to get some sleep. Too many things to go wrong. He flipped his mental coin again and gave out a big sigh. It landed on its edge. And just why he decided, against the recommendations of his team, not to involve Joan at this stage, was a purely gut instinct. There were already too many leaks and who knew what kind of surveillance there could be on his boss, and even infiltrators. And right now, she was too close to the source of such possible treachery.

Bask on Salinus II, at just about the time Cam was getting the message from the mysterious X about the possible perfidy by agent Gaius Temple, in a surprisingly modest office considering the exalted position held by its occupant, a very secure null-time (and unregistered) com had received a nano-pulse, too short to allow any possibility of interception. Its occupant, momentarily on another com call to a most important client, nevertheless, cut that call short, and touched a virtual icon seemingly appearing in mid air, and reviewed the new and anticipated communiqué. The computer then expanded and revealed its encrypted message.

With a most self-satisfied Mona Lisa smile, a reply was likewise sent to the sender. (Along with another one to an interested party). The mission from the Omega Block would be allowed to get there first. It was important to make sure people did not suspect insider complicity. It would be Jakempsky's incompetence which will have been blamed.

When the reply was unencrypted, it read: "Most salutary. Continue as planned. Make sure about PB. Control him and we control the boy."

The recipient of this electronic missive arranged his mouth in a smug and conceited smirk. As he contemplated his own mission, and his complacent expectation of success, he also contemplated exactly what he'd soon be doing to that unbearable brat of a boy, along with his so-called master. And that insufferable fool who had the temerity to threaten him merely for pushing the obscenity away with his foot. He almost drooled with anticipation as his imagination ran wild.

Perhaps immobilizing the adult and forcing him to watch as he straps the boy down and allows a small bolo worm squirm its way into his urethra and lay its eggs in the boy's immature testes. Though with its normal symbiotic host, a mild mannered beast on an obscure planet just outside the Federation sphere, the host would merely experienced a longer and more intense orgasm than usual with no untoward effects. But a human? The boy's testes would not be immature for long. The only time he'd actually heard about it happening, within a month the boy's scrotum had grown to the size of a melon – when it had finally expelled its young in a twenty-minute paroxysm of ineffable pleasure for the boy. Of course, his genitals would never work to produce sperm again, nor would he experience anything but absolute frustration during the hiatus before the next expulsion. The boy's libido would continue to drive him with an unimaginable craving for orgasmic release, which would be completely denied until another such orgasm a month later. Perhaps he'd keep the boy's so-called master alive in a body-tight enclosure next to that of his boy, forced to watch impotently as his boy suffers. Or better yet,…

His thoughts were interrupted by a chime from the Captain of ship in which he traveled; "Arrival at P'rernk in three hours." He tossed his musings aside. Thoughts of revenge could wait. Now was the time for discipline and rigorous attention to his own mission. When most propitious, his own team would take over. And take possession of one of the wealthiest prizes in the Federation. That idiot Jakempsky would have his Waterloo.

The second message, sent to an individual of even greater power and conceit than the sender, contained two words: "On schedule."

On that very planet, 12.3 km [7.6 mi] north of Pern, in Mandela Province, in the somewhat more than modest abode of one Yaro Kwarto – totally unaware that he was under scrutiny by both possible alley and definite foe – was taking blithe satisfaction in the antics of two small boys as they presumed to entertain their respective masters. Yaro smiled with the contentment of a man blessed. His own boy had explained that Feonty, his stiff light chocolate brown 5 inches [12½ cm] incongruously swinging about on his slim 4½ foot [1.40 m] naked body as he cavorted with abandon in the warm waters of his pool, had indeed prevailed upon his master to eventually allow contact with his friend Nu. (The chosen slave name of Kalli). This resulting in the present visit by Feonty and his master, one Boyhard Hughes. (Neither the boy nor his master knew him by the name Kalli Menhare Risenhour. Nor did Yaro ever even use this name. It was so utterly important that no one else knew his slave's origin).

A seemingly aggrieved multimillionaire, a twice-retired captain of industry, and self-proclaimed gourmet chef, looked at his generous host and remarked: "For certain. It is I who am the enslaved. And do you know how difficult it is to get a visa to come to this planet for merely a vacation?"

But Feonty's master's manner belied his seeming beleaguered air. The boy in question splashed out of the pool and approached his master. He knelt awaiting his master's notice.

Yaro queried: "You hold your boy to such formality?"

Boyhard laughed sardonically: "I have to somehow impress upon the boy the fact that he is the slave. Otherwise, it will always be he that orders me about. Why do you think we are not at this very moment engaged in a trip to the Great Serendipitous Reef on Salinus II?"

Yaro understood just how one's fondness of one's slave could cause such coddling. "We have its equal just off the Harper's Coast of our southern continent. I would be happy to accompany you there. I could use a vacation anyway."

Yaro quite liked the man whom he'd just met a few days ago. Boisterous, a bit arrogant, but of a kind heart. Boyhard was also a man of pretensions. It was easy for a man who did indeed become so enormously wealthy by his own wits. But those who knew him were surprised just how much the man seemed to have changed in the short time he'd had his new slaveboy. And Boyhard, to his own credit, also recognized the changes in himself.

And of course his slave, Feonty, could charm the scales off a petrified manga snake.

It had only been the week before when Yaro had received the com call from the man. It had been his slave Kalli who made the plea for his master to entertain them as their guests.

Kalli had explained: "Feonty was the very first boy I met at that place when I awoke. And we got to be best friends in only a few weeks. I'd never really had a friend like him before."

Boyhard now turned his attention toward the kneeling figure whom he considered the epitome of lust-engendering boy flesh.

"'Trouble?' What?"

"Master. Please come join us. It's my duty to help you enjoy life. You told me that yourself."

The naked Feonty knelt there with a huge smile on his light brown face, and with his boner thrusting outward from his slightly darker groin. He had not the slightest particle of modesty, but had enough guile for any two people. Boyhard believed the boy his perfect match. Exactly what he needed to help him live life more fully. And finally care for someone more than himself. He now did something he would not have dreamed of in his pre-'Trouble' days. He disrobed on the spot and dove into the pool totally naked.

Boyhard called out: "Come boy. Ride your master."

Feonty immediately dove into the pool and climbed atop the man who outweighed him by more than 200 pounds [136 kg]. At 6 foot 5 [2 m], his master was only slightly out of shape. He could almost have been described as a former Japanese sumo wrestler who had made good effort to loose about 150 pounds [68 kg]. And there was enough of Japanese heritage evidence by his master's looks and heritage to make this whimsy credible. Feonty thought his master perfect. And as he slipped down along the front of his master's body, he impaled himself on his master's mammoth penis. The command to ride his master was not misunderstood. Boyhard's recent genital enhancement helped to guarantee that he'd be able to keep pace with his slave's ability to enjoy frequent orgasm.

Kalli watched his friend minister to his master and looked back to his own master with a wicked smile.

Yaro noticed the expression of arousal on the brown slaveboy's face as he ministered his master, and then recognized in the look and posture of his own boy, the same extreme arousal. He pulled his boy from the pool and carried him to privacy of the master bedroom.

"Thanks master." Kalli murmured as he awaited his master's pleasure. And anticipated his own.

Yaro understood what was meant. His boy always considered the enjoyment of each other's body a very private concern. And Yaro was certainly determined to enjoy every square inch of his boy's luscious body while his guest enjoyed his own boy.

The boy went nearly spastic as his master attacked his rear end and pushed his tongue into the interior of his butt hole. Yaro took possession of what he owned, and proceeded to ravage his boy's most important appendage, engulfing it entire, his black mouth savoring his boy's taste. After a couple shuddering climaxes by his small two-legged property, he then rightfully imposed his will and moved his boy's mouth onto his own raging 7 inch [18 cm] coal black penis. His boy engulfed it in its entirety with practiced ease. His master then used his boy's other sex hole for its most important purpose. Two hours later, barely remembering his guest, a drowsy Yaro pulled his now somewhat limber penis from his boy's other hole where it had explored its velvety interior for a significant portion of time.

Kalli opened his sleepy eyes and inquired: "Master, shall I fill the bath or we just having a shower? Trouble, is for the moment, not causing any trouble. He and his master are asleep in the natatorium's robing room."

Yaro had long stopped wondering about his boy's ability to discern what his occasional guests were doing. He also realized that it was well past the dinner hour but all the food on parade on the patio next to the natatorium, and inside on the long buffet table, brought in by a succession of caterers and paid for by his wealthy guest, had seriously dulled his appetite. "Perhaps," he thought, "an invigorating pummeling of water."

So he decided on neither: "The Jacuzzi. Set it for full water jetting at 77 F [25°C]."

A complacently pleased boy murmured his compliance, dragged his body over to the sunken tub, and turned on its heater and jets. Near the end of a long and enjoyable day, but also an equally tiring one, though very drowsy, he nonetheless knelt there patiently awaiting his master's next directive.

But just as Yaro was about to step into the tub, with a near somnolent boy in his arms, two events spelled out their concurrent themes. The distant tone indicating an incoming com call, evidently for his guest, and his slave's shout of dreadful dismay.

The trembling boy cried out with a baleful fear: "Master, I feel really scared. Something really bad is about to happen!"

Yaro felt a shockwave of stomach wrenching disquiet stab through both mind and body as he stepped naked out of the jetting whirlpools of water, and carried his now crying boy to a nearby sofa.

Kalli pushed away from his master's near crushing arms and amid sobs tried to make sense out of his chaos of thoughts and feelings.

"Master, nothing seems right all of a sudden. It's like a wave of doom has washed over me. I'm scared!"

Yaro tried his best to console his slave. But his own serious disquiet was not helping. With a severe purpose of will he finally stilled his own dire emotions and asked his boy to explain as well as he could.

His master's strong sense of command and deep resolve to do whatever necessary to protect his boy had a substantial calming effect. Kalli wiped away his tears and tried to concentrate.

"Sorry master. All I know is I feel nothing good can come anymore."

Yaro was desperate to find out exactly what was so suddenly amiss and what he may possibly do to fix it. "Boy, stand up and stop crying. I command you to do this."

Kalli's conditioning and months of obeying his master seemed now like a bulwark of stability and strength. Complying even seemed to still his rising disquiet. After searching about for what he was truly feeling, Kalli recognized what felt to him as a window of hope.

"Master we have to do two things." And with relative calm Kalli started to explain what they must do.

At that moment, a refreshed and exuberant Boyhard Hughes bounced into the indoor room and boisterously announced his intention of leaving. For once the naked Feonty, trailing water, was left trailing in his wake.

With the assuredness that comes from wealth and ease of living, Boyhard boomed out a haphazard greeting and announced his plans.

"My good man, I can not express how totally wonderful…"

His words died in his throat when he realized something was definitely amiss with both his host and his slave. Feonty literally came to a stop only after he bounced off the wide back of his own master. And for once his aplomb had momentarily deserted him as he sat on his derriere and looked at the broad naked expanse of master's derriere only feet away.

It would have been a stunning tableau with four outstanding examples of male sexuality, both adult and child, except for the anxiety written on two of the faces and consternation on the others.

Nearly a thousand miles [1600 km] away and 25,000 feet [7600 m] above the planet in synchronous orbit, the party from Explorer IV entered a cabin which would soon begin its descent to the planet below on the Rolihlahla Sky-hook, named after Nelson Mandela of long ago old earth history, it being his actual given name. (Feonty giggled frenziedly when he later discovered that, roughly translated, it could mean 'troublemaker'. He started thinking of it as the Feonty Sky-hook).

As the descent began, Keng Yam's slave boy, now fully clothed and with head covering in hand, looked in near rapture at the blue and white marble below him called P'rernk. Interspersed areas of brown and green also captured his notice. In his hand was a small valise which he had proudly put all his remaining clothing. It was a moment for amusement when Jamal, of all people, had received in such solemn tone from the small boy, his explanation of just what he carried. (He had been the very first person the boy had met with as they were readying for departure).

"Hello, Jamal." (The boy had judged him worthy of being addressed by his real name. For some reason, the boy was in awe of the man. Of course at not quite 7 feet [2.10 m] and 270 pounds [122 kg] of defined muscle, the man awed most people).

"I'm carrying all my clothes!"

The amused agent inquired: "Can't be much. Of course you're just a little squirt. Want to help with one of mine?"

Jamal had, in jest, pointed to the boy a relatively small case, which, despite its appearances, was quite heavy. For some reason, Jamal had taken an unusual liking for the boy. In spite of what he knew about him. And the boy's 'position' in life. He seemed just like any other ordinary boy most the time. He wasn't sure how he be reacting if the boy were nude.

The boy attempted to pick up the small case, causing them both to laugh as the boy seemed pulled to the floor."

"Not fair! That's a whole lot heavier than every piece of clothes my master has for me."

Jamal chuckled. "Do you think you could actually carry something with all your clothes in it?"

The boy said in all earnestness: "They're not MY clothes! They're my master's. A slave don't own NOTHIN'! I just wear 'em. And they're all in here." The boy thrust out his hand with the very small bag.

A now somewhat dissembling man made a few remarks about the boy not owning anything, and trying not to show his unease concerning the boy's status, and then innocently asked: "But what about all your clothes at home?"

The boy tittered: "Silly. I don't HAVE any clothes at home. Don't need none there."

Several people, who'd been listening in on the exchange, started laughing.

Cam remarked with delight: "Close your mouth Jamal, before a bangu beetle flies in."

[Bangu beetles are known as the largest flying insect on Salinus II, sometimes reaching eight inches [20 cm] in length.]

After several last minute com calls just before leaving ship, Jake looked for His Majesty.

"Hister, what were you able to discover?"

Jake was asking about the information he'd wanted concerning the deep space ship belonging to Boyhard Hughes and its berth in the station above P'rernk II.

"Not much boss. At least nothing of importance. It's official name is The Nomad, it's still berthed in the private deep space wheel of the station, location C3, quite close to where our own ship is currently undergoing its normal maintenance, and I found out from one of the station's workforce, it is currently being readied for separation and departure."

Jake asked several more questions but learned nothing else of importance. He started mulling over the possible significance of the impending departure other than the thought that two less people in the Kwarto residence was all to the good. (According to his last reports, there should only be the cleaning crew coming the next morning for the almost day-long food fest that had begun in the early morning that very day [Mandela Province time]).

About twenty minutes earlier, just before their departure from the Explorer IV, Cam had confirmed that indeed it was the 'Snake' who had some sort of unlisted com device.

And Cam assured his boss: "Jake, as soon as he either sends or receives I will know it. In fact I have my one of my own devices slaved to it. Whatever messages he receives or sends, we will also obtain. Unfortunately, this small comp I have may not be able to un-encrypt it. But if I'm close enough I can block any outgoing messages,… if you want."

"Let me think on that. I don't want to alert him to the fact that we are on to him. We know the Snake and Tempy are somehow working their own agenda. But who is directing them?"

The last was a rhetorical question but Jake thought he could designate the life form at the very top of the food chain. It was the traitorous middle management he was after.

Jake gave Cam one additional order. "No messages. Though improbable, we must assume that our communications are being intercepted."

As Jake watched the antics of one small slave boy aboard the descent cabin of the Rolihlahla Sky-hook, he again flipped his mental coin. He sighed and thought: "Paranoia is a good thing."

As the cabin began to ride the Sky-hook downward, on its webbed cable of infinitely strong artificial spider silk, only that same slaveboy seemed immune from the tensions around him. Two notables were in fact locked in heated disagreement. But soon, even the boy couldn't stop wincing as a big argument heated up. Especially since one of the antagonist was his master.

Jake was adamant: "Absolutely NOT! No way am I going to allow you to bring that child with us. He stays at a secure holding area."

The boy's master was equally resolute: "Held by whom? There is absolutely no way you can persuade me to leave him behind! He stays behind, then so do I. I told you already, my slave and I are NEVER separated!"

Jake realized he was at an impasse. And he needed Kwan Yam's cooperation. His willing cooperation. By this time there were six pairs of ears intently listening. It was Cam who offered a suggestion.

Cam took Jake aside: "Jake, we need to make sure our retreat is secure. How about Big Sue staying behind with both the boy and Kwan Yam? We've already determined that the boy we are after is a conditioned slave."

Jake pondered. He flipped a mental coin and winced at the result. Although no one knew the origin of the phrase, it seemed to him that Murphy's Law had struck again. Jake first held a short tête-à-tête with the very self sufficient member of security

Jake then spoke quietly to Kwan Jam: "OK, Kwan Jam, he's your boy and your responsibility. And Sue will stay with you."

The boy in question scooted over to his master and grabbed ahold. The hold soothed each one, the boy's disquiet, and the man's temper.

After a few minutes, during a window of relative quiet, the boy very innocently remarked to his master. "Master, I'm really really itching! Can you please take my clothes off 'til we get down?"

With studied nonchalance, Kwan Yam deliberately stripped his boy. And then with an attitude of defiance, he sat on one of the well cushioned chairs, and placing the boy onto his lap, began very openly to fondle his boy's genitals. The boy was somewhat embarrassed given the circumstances, but soon gave himself up to the feelings which had quickly taken possession of him.

Cam watched with amusement and wondered at the boy's lack of modesty. And at his seemingly never deflating 3 incher [7½ cm].

Jamal merely looked out at the approaching world. Deliberately not thinking about what was going on ten feet from where he sat.

His Majesty was busy watching not the boy, but the 'Snake,' who was bristling with hatred.

As the good guys proceeded through customs, (fortunately the officials of P'rernk were relatively reasonable concerning formalities), another team was also preparing for a possible confrontation. The last instructions Tempy had received was to make sure that both the boy and Yaro Kwarto did not leave the residence until the Jake Jakempsky and his team got there. And that if on the chance that the boy was not taken back to the Explorer IV, then they were to help in the boy's capture. The person giving the instructions had assured him that he would take care of the other team.

Tempy got pretty antsy when a rental air car alighted in the nearly vacant private air field adjacent to the main residence. It had occurred in the early morning hours before the sun had risen but infrared signatures indicated that only two passengers had boarded the luxury craft. The signatures indicated it was a man and a boy (presumably), and long range audio, capturing the conversations between them and two others at the craft, attested to the fact that it was Boyhard Hughes and his slave who were leaving. This corresponded to conversations he had listened in on late the previous evening, and the intercepted calls made by this same Hughes alerting the crew of his space yacht, the Nomad, to begin preparations for disembarking from the station early the next day. Tempy was relieved that the situation in the boy's residence was getting less complicated. He was further reassured when the conversation between man and boy, as they returned to the main house, indicated that they had alerted the cleaning crew not to show up until that afternoon. And of course voice analysis confirmed that it was Yaro Kwarto and his boy who had returned to the building. With a shout of disgust, Tempy ended his ease-dropping along with the recording, when the sound from the bedroom indicated that that pervert was again molesting his slave. He spoke with fervor: "Damn [deleted] barbarians! Any civilized people would have banned such a thing centuries ago. He wondered just what compromises had been struck for the Federation to actually have allowed this slave thing to continue. worlds. Even if it were only on several member worlds and a few associated planets.

The two people inside had not the least idea that the start of their lovemaking had been spied upon and their privacy invaded, nor would have they cared. The boy moaned with delight when his master first fingered his boy butt hole and then squealed as he felt the man's tongue invading his sensitive hole. And abandoned himself entirely to his master's will as he felt himself being impaled by his master's much larger member. Of course, it was the tight cuddling afterwards which seemed just as pleasurable to a boy who had felt little comfort, physical or otherwise, in the years before his enslavement and being purchased by whom he now believed to be the best master in the Federation.

Tempy put the information about this latest turn of events into a pulse communiqué to his principal.

NEXT PART