An Exchange of Hostages Read Online Free Page B

within subject worlds continued to seethe and writhe and challenge the Judicial order. The public’s desire to see crimes punished in proportion to their severity could serve as a rationalization for atrocity; but only as long as such measures worked as deterrent.
    And there was no way the Protocols could be described as punishment in proportion to the crime’s severity.
    Andrej straightened up in his chair, weary with the familiar futility of it all. It did no good to worry that old dry bone. The Station was on Standard time, and Tutor Chonis had told them that they were to be on first-shift for the duration of the Term; so it was coming up on sleep-shift, which meant it was time to go to bed.

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    Student Koscuisko sighed and stood up. Joslire waited patiently to be noticed. It wouldn’t matter if he spoke first, not so early in Term; Koscuisko wouldn’t know it was a violation — but the governor would. It was best not to risk it.
    “I’m sorry, Joslire,” Koscuisko said. “I am brooding. There is something?”
    “As it please the officer.” Koscuisko’s dialect seemed to include more apology than Joslire was accustomed to hearing; this was the third time, surely. It meant nothing. “The officer may wish to review the material pertaining to the Administrator’s briefing?”
    The information was on-screen on the study set; Koscuisko hadn’t noticed, sunk deep in thought. Now the Student leaned over the desktop, scrolling through the data, a mild frown of concentration on his broad flat face. “Presentation of the Bond, yes, Joslire. I rehearsed it in the mirror, in fact. On my way here.”
    Just as well. The public presentation was humiliating enough in its own right. When the Students hadn’t bothered to learn their lines, Joslire felt the depth of his degradation more keenly than ever.
    Student Koscuisko tagged the view off and met his eyes squarely. “There was a note in the briefing, Joslire; the option to receive the Bond now or tomorrow. Which do you prefer?”
    Confused for a moment, Joslire recovered as quickly as he could. It was true. He was only required to surrender his Bond in good form. He didn’t have to do it tomorrow. If Student Koscuisko would receive his Bond here in private, they’d still stand at briefing, but he’d not be forced to repeat the bitter lie of his condemnation in public this time.
    “With respect. It is the officer’s preference that prevails. As the Student please.” He had to say it; it was his duty to try to teach Koscuisko how to use him.
    “Thank you, Joslire, but I desire to consult your preference. I solicit your preference. I ask you to tell me which you would rather.”
    It wouldn’t last.
    It never did.
    Koscuisko would learn soon enough to treat him as an object for use, and not as a person. But as long as Koscuisko had made the demand, he was clear to reveal it; he only hoped that his voice was professionally neutral, as it should be, and not dripping over with gratitude. It was a small thing to be asked for his preference. It was a great thing to a bond-involuntary to be asked anything, rather than told.
    Koscuisko was an aristocrat; for Koscuisko asking and demanding were probably the same things. He would concentrate on that. “As it please the officer. To be permitted to present the Bond would be a privilege.”
    Koscuisko nodded. “We will the transfer accomplish here and now, then.” Easier for Koscuisko as well, perhaps, since he need not expose himself to ridicule before the Tutor if he missed a word. “Bring me back my boots, if you would. I will just go adjust my attitude.”
    What did a man’s boots have to do with his attitude?
    Koscuisko took the boots from Joslire’s hand, but he didn’t want any help getting into them. Joslire had nothing to do but stand and stare at him as Koscuisko tucked in his trouser cuffs, fastening his uniform blouse smooth and straight.
    Koscuisko went into the washroom with careful steps, his feet