I am unable to get any true sleep. I rise early in the morning, even earlier than I usually do, and begin my morning routine. Food is made, and the kitchen and dining room are spotless for almost an hour before master awakens. He eats quickly today, done before he even brings up his holo news program, and rushes back to his room. I remove his plate and finish my chores in the kitchen before moving on to the sitting room, making sure it is spotless before I start my daily dusting. I am almost through when master again descends the stairs dressed in a perfectly pressed suit.
“Are you ready to go Meredith?” He asks as I come to his side to receive orders. I know that it is a bad idea to go, and that there is much more on masters mind than just a simple trip to the museum, but I simply say “Yes Master.”
I retrieve his coat and open the door for him, then follow directly behind. I feel goose bumps rise on my arms as we approach the hover car. I am still not comfortable at all with this new contraption. Perhaps I am afraid of heights, or maybe it is the fact that it drives itself and is not controlled by a person. I hope that I never have to die in an accident in one. I would never be able to set foot in one again.
I wait for master to find his seat before taking my own and watching mournfully as the doors slide to a close. The craft slowly lifts from the roof and glides away into the sunrise. I again watch as the tall buildings slide past my window and glitter in the light. I let my eyes drift down to the ground as we make a slight turn and see the streets and sidewalks teeming with people and cars. To think that once these streets were full of her people doing every menial job on the street and up every building, and now the chances of finding a person with brown eyes was slim to none. Over the last ten lives I have lived our numbers have dwindled. There is no true explanation as to why, but the birthrates seemed to suddenly drop. Many of the wealthy elite started their own “breeding programs” to attempt to combat the drop in population, but many women would just not become pregnant, or lose their pregnancies in the early stages. We went from outnumbering the Empire’s people tenfold to only a few hundred thousand in three or four generations. I myself in this life came from such a breeding program, one of ten children that had survived into adolescence. Once we came of age we were sold to the wealthiest families, or most prosperous companies to live out lives of servitude. Any child not sold by the time they hit puberty were recycled into the breeding program to attempt to bring about the next generation of slaves. That had almost been my fate. I had already been shown to many families and factories before Master’s father had chosen me. I was only with the Connellys for a month before I received my first bleed. I sometimes think about what could have been in this life. The horrors I would have had to endure until I died of complications of childbirth or worn out by the constant impregnations. I hated every scenario of that possible life. A life that might be waiting for me after this one ends.
My thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the slight tremble of the hovercraft as it comes to rest on the landing pad of the museum. I quickly exit the craft to stand at attention as master slowly slides out of his own seat. We enter the building through the same door we had when we had brought the cart, but instead of continuing down the hall, we enter an elevator. Master quickly presses the button for the bottom floor of the museum and we descend at a faster rate than I am comfortable with. When the doors finally slide open again we are faced with the giant reception room. Master saunters up to the desk where a woman sits smiling. “How can I help you today Sir Connelly?” She practically purrs. I feel very uncomfortable. There is obviously something between the two that I really do not want to know about. “I would like to do a full viewing of the exhibits.” Her smile practically shines as she types on her computer and then motions for us to enter.
Comments (1)
See all