Chapter Text
Henry sat hunched at the table in the dimly lit room and pressed the palms of his aching hands to its cold marble surface. He looked up at the two older men standing across from his seat, watching him with sharp eyes, and he straightened his posture. It felt like an interrogation; it felt like his hands should be chained immobile to the table. Instead he sat freely, well-fed for the first time in too many weeks and dressed in loose, casual clothing without holes. He pulled his hands down into his lap and sucked in a breath as his skin brushed against the fabric of his pants.
“That pain won’t linger long,” Radzig promised, and he sounded truly sympathetic. “You’ll hardly remember it’s been installed once it heals.”
Henry doubted that. He flipped his hands over again to look at the silver running thin like spiderwebbed ivy from the pad of his thumb down towards his wrist where it branched out around his indistinct wrist scent gland and faded deeper into his skin. They had only done his thumbs, but both Radzig and Hanush bore embedded circuitry across every finger and both palms. It matched their necks, too, expensive technology linking itself to their spinal cords by way of glittering metal patterned across the nape of their necks.
Pair of rich cunts.
And so was Henry now, somewhere past the legalese and limitations they’d bound around his neck. The credits he had access to now were life-changing in a way he had yet to fully accept. He was still working on comprehending the circumstances that had gotten him here. When he thought too hard about it, guilt seeped like bile in the back of his throat. It woke him at night with a pulse like thunder in his chest kept him from falling back asleep.
Guilt and sorrow and below it all, a thick, simmering anger.
Henry knew it would consume him if he let it; had already seen what anger and resentment and rage could do when left unchecked to boil in the hearts of men who had nothing else to lean on. It had changed his scent already; Henry knew it had, even when he had nobody left to confirm it for him. He had survived despite himself and it was changing him.
Nausea twisted his stomach and Henry forced himself back into the present.
Hanush leaned forward and rapped his large hand against the table. “Are you well? Are you paying attention?”
“I am,” Henry lied. He swallowed and pulled his hands from his lap to settle them once more against the table. “I read the briefing on the way here.”
One simple contract that he’d already signed days ago, hands shaking for reasons other than installation pain: housing, safety, payment- ongoing provisions in exchange for his service with no proposed end date.
“Good lad,” Radzig said. He smiled at Henry. “We don’t really expect any trouble for you, right, Hanush?”
Hanush waved him off with a casual laugh that felt only half as warm as Radzig’s genuine smile. “Of course not. It ain’t as if he’s a real target for anybody. He just needs somebody to…” He hummed for a moment, waving a hand as he came up with the correct words. “He might require somebody to prevent him from becoming a target, if you get my meaning.”
The job description was thus: act as full-time personal guard and security liaison for one Hans Capon, legal nephew to the current acting-President of Intent Rattay Industries and future inheritor of a large trust that included the majority of the company’s shares. His father had founded Intent Rattay years ago with the invention of the Intention Technology, the very same hardware that had been wired into Henry’s hands that morning. After a brief series of ethical litigation, the technology had been integrated into nearly every industry possible; communications, gaming, research, transportation and more recently the medical. Shortly before he died, Capon Sr had arranged the partnership with ScentTech and profits had exploded.
There were a lot of complicated technicalities to it all that Henry would never attempt to understand. The important bit was that Hans was on track to be one of the richest men alive and Henry was, for whatever reason, suddenly responsible for him.
It would be fine. Hanush was smiling at him like he knew Henry was exactly the right man for the job, experience be damned. It was somewhat encouraging in a way that also made the hair across the back of Henry’s neck prickle ominously.
Radzig clapped his hands together decidedly and turned to open the office door. “Let’s get you properly equipped- unless you’ve changed your mind about the additional neck implant?” he asked once again.
Henry shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. “No, sir. I think I need to get used to this bit first.” He flexed his fingers and felt the pull of healing skin. It had been mandatory and Henry was loath to give up any more of his own choice yet.
“Are you sure?” Hanush followed him out, shutting off the lights in the office with a careless wave of his hand. “They’ve just released a new wave of Scents; big hit with all the young folk, I hear.”
“Don’t push the lad, Hanush. Some people really enjoy the natural thing,” Radzig said.
“The natural thing doesn’t put money into anybody’s pockets,” Hanush answered with a light-hearted laugh.
“Yours specifically, you mean?”
“Aye, mine exactly!”
Henry only distantly followed their conversation as he trailed them through the building and into an elevator. He watched the numbers on the panel drop swiftly from 94 and felt a visceral lurch of his stomach with the speed of the descent. Never had he been so high up, having only seen these glittering skyscrapers from a low distance. It was a little bit unnerving how easy it was for one to forget they were a thousand meters in the air; there had even been another fifty floors above that office.
The elevator slowed as it passed the lobby and continued lower before settling with a mechanical noise two levels below ground floor. The door required a passkey here and only slid open once Radzig had pressed his fingers against an inconspicuous panel above the ordinary buttons.
“We will make sure you have everything you need for this job,” Radzig said, ushering him forward as the lights flickered on above them. The room was thin and consisted mostly of rows of small unlabeled lockers. Radzig stopped at one and brushed his hand over it. The lock clicked and popped itself open and he dug though an assortment of items before pulling out a small box.
He reached out for Henry’s hand and gripped his wrist carefully, kindly mindful of the healing skin. This close, as he pulled an item from the box and wrapped it around Henry’s forearm, Henry caught a faint whiff of the older Alpha’s scent; clear and calm and somewhat strangely familiar. He wondered if it was real or a manufactured scent impression.
“Your main tablet,” Radzig said, pulling a zipper tight before turning Henry’s arm and showing him the compact device attached over his forearm. It looked like a simple phone, but Radzig showed him how to flip it open and double the screen size. It lit up as Henry touched it, immediately showing an intricate series of apps. “Phone, web, credit access, security cameras; everything you need and tied only to your Intent.” It would only work for his hands, then.
“Would be even more useful if you would install-”
“On his own time, Hanush,” Radzig cut him off. To Henry, he continued. “You have direct line access to the private security team as well as our contracted medic squad. We’ve also preprogrammed a series of relevant contacts for you.”
“Alright,” Henry said, prodding at various icons and generally a little bit overwhelmed by the new device. He looked up from the screen just in time to watch Radzig pull another heavier case from the locker and his eyes widened.
“Your weapon- what’s that look? Obviously you’ll need to be armed, or whatever would be the point?”
“Right, of course,” Henry managed, schooling his expression and folding the tablet shut. It wasn’t as heavy on his arm as he had expected. Radzig clicked open the case and Henry took the offered weapon; a ballistic handgun, unlabeled and light in his hands. As his fingers squeezed around the grip, a dim light faintly glowed along the safety.
“Again, keyed just to your Intent. Nobody else will be able to use it and it won’t go off accidentally. Here.”
Henry took the offered item, a thick waist holster that buckled around him tightly, higher up on his stomach than he was used to and designed to make him appear unarmed. He tucked the weapon in and pulled down his shirt, the ice of cold metal against his skin furthering his growing unease.
Hanush leaned into his space. “You do know how to use that, right, boy?” he asked.
“Of course, sir,” Henry answered, sidling away from Hanush’s large presence.
“I told you he was capable,” Radzig said, voice low with exasperation.
Capable, Henry thought, bending his left arm as he tried to get used to the new weight of the tablet cuff. He could intuit the words Radzig wasn’t saying: capable, possibly, but also expendable, desperate and without any other option. Sometimes Henry caught that look from him out of the corner of his eye, reflected in shining glass windows- a soft look that read like pity, that made Henry flinch as if he’d been physically hit.
Violence would have been easier to deal with than the cloying pain of that expression.
“I’ll keep him safe,” Henry said, biting the words on his tongue to make them stick. He didn’t care about any rich playboy, but he yearned for a sense of pride. He would prove Radzig’s trust, earn his honor, show them that he was worthy of their time and money.
He needed desperately to prove to anybody who’d listen that he was worthy of still being alive. To himself most of all.
Maybe Radzig read too much of that in his face, or maybe Henry’s scent was spilling too strongly, because Radzig’s expression grew serious and he set a hand across Henry’s shoulder. It appeared as if he wanted to say something, but he only nodded.
“The car’s waiting,” Hanush said, interrupting them carelessly, and Henry still felt the heat from Radzig’s hand linger as they moved on.
The drive to the high-rise where Capon lived wasn’t long; it would have been a walkable distance from Intent Rattay if the lower roads were safer to traverse. Their car pulled into a garage and parked itself near an elevator entrance and the three of them climbed from the back seat.
“Hans has more vehicles than I care to keep track of,” Hanush said, triggering the call button for them. “But we’ve programmed one you can use yourself if you ever need to go somewhere.”
“You can call up any car with your tablet,” Radzig told him, “and you can also call your bike, which we’ve had repaired for you already.”
“My old bike?” Henry asked, shocked and vaguely disappointed that somebody else’s hands had worked on her. He had thought her completely wrecked though, and overall was immensely relieved to hear they’d thought about even something small like his motorcycle. It couldn’t properly convey enough, but Henry said, “Thank you,” all the same.
“Of course,” Radzig said.
“Now,” Hanush said as the elevator pulled them upwards, “let me do the talking. It’ll go better that way.”
“I’m sure you’ve already told him about this situation,” Radzig said warily.
Hanush held up a hand. “Of course I did! But telling him and telling him are often two different things.”
The lift pulled to a gentle stop and pinged to signal their arrival. Henry followed the two men out into a chrome entrance way walled with thick windows. The city sprawled before them, a geometric maze of metal and glass blocking most of the cloudy sky. Thick orange rays bounced over anti-glare windows as the sun set behind the sea of skyscrapers. Henry looked away before his knees threatened to buckle and caught up to Radzig just as Hanush was pushing the doorbell keys on a set of wide double-doors.
A brief puff of static sounded before a voice rang from invisible speakers. “Deliveries are to be left in the-”
Hanush jammed his fingers over the button again and spoke over the response loudly. “I told you that we’d be here at nine and that you’d better be ready!”
A short silence followed before the speakers answered, “ Ohhhh , Hanush. Was that today? Are you sure? Maybe it should be tomorrow?”
“I’m gonna strangle that fucking -”
“Alright, hold that thought for a moment there,” Radzig said, pushing Hanush’s heavy-handed fist from the buzzer and gently bodying him aside. He pressed the button and said, “Put some pants on and let us in, Hans. We won’t take long and this is, unfortunately for you, inevitable.”
“Fine, fine,” agreed Hans finally. “Just a sec’.”
Radzig turned to smile at them. “Easy as that.”
Right, Henry thought, trying not to let his concerns show across his face. Easy as that. He stepped lightly to the side, one or two feet further from Hanush, who glowered like strangling might still be on the table.
A clunk sound rang from the doors as the lock mechanism disengaged and the doors slid sideways into the wall. Music poured from deeper inside, something fast and heavy and unfamiliar to Henry. “Finally,” Hanush grumbled, walking through the doorway before it was fully open.
Henry followed dutifully, lingering only for a moment as Radzig paused to trigger the doors to close behind them. The apartment was massive; bigger than any home or garage Henry had ever stayed in. The entranceway opened into a vast double-story room filled with an excess of assorted seating and scattered tables. One large window took up the entirety of the living room’s wall- not just large, Henry thought, tilting his head to take in the view, but absolutely enormous. The view put them above most of the city, perfectly situated to see every shade of red and orange as the sun set slowly over the skyline.
He couldn’t feel the heat of the sun through the window, but with the beat of music loud in his ears and the entire world spread out before him beyond the glass, Henry felt something settle warmly in his chest all the same. This view didn’t inspire fear like the entryway windows; it hit him differently, a memento of everything that lay out there before him, a reminder that the sun would continue to set and to rise no matter what kind of smoke dirtied the air underneath.
The music stopped and Henry blinked, snapping out of his uncharacteristic reverie. He turned, his elbow brushing the weapon still holstered against his side and starkly bringing him back to the immediate present.
Light steps padded the balcony above them and the three men turned to look up as a shirtless blond young man leaned over the railing. “ Dearest Uncle,” he drawled, mouth twisted into a half-cocked smile. “What can I possibly help you with?”
There was little light in the room besides the fading sun, but it was still easy to see the expanse of silver augments that ran over his skin. He had both hands wired to match Hanush and Radzig, and when he tilted his head, cheeks flushed pink from (Henry guessed) plenty of alcohol, Henry caught a glimpse of the circuitry on his neck. It was the typical spinal attachment, but also continued to run halfway down his back as well as twisting like faint decorated filigree around his neck and across the spots his scent glands would be. Henry didn’t even know what the point of so much metal could be and it made his skin itch again where his own little bit had been installed.
“Come down and meet your new bodyguard, Hans,” Hanush insisted, crossing his arms.
Radzig lingered closer to the doorway, leaning against the edge of a round table with a bemused expression. Hans looked at him and smiled wider, and Henry was only a little astonished to see more metal capping the sharper teeth in his mouth. “Hello, second uncle,” Hans said, ignoring Hanush.
“Do you think we could avoid the dog-and-pony show this time, Hans?” Radzig asked lightly. “I’m sure Henry doesn’t care to witness the never-ending Uncle versus Nephew debate.”
Hans sighed dramatically, slouching on his arms over the rail. “Is it so important that your newest show-pony employee has a good experience?”
“HANS,” Hanush rumbled, taking a step towards the stairs.
Hans stepped back and raised his hands. “Okay!” he said, giving in before Hanush actually started to climb. “Okay, I get it.” He moved back to the edge as his Uncle stopped and he leaned forward further to peer down at Henry. “As my new hall monitor, I’m sure you’ll agree I’m much too drunk to risk climbing down the stairs to shake your hand.”
“I could tell,” Henry remarked before he could think better of it.
“ Ooh, could you?” Hans laughed. “Look, Uncle, he’s talented. A perfect fit.” He waved towards a hall near the entrance doors. “Can’t you settle your man for me, Radzig? Show him his new fancy room? It took me hours to convince Augie and Delilah to move out,” he pouted. “Might even be clean in there.”
“Who-”
“Enough, Hanush.” Radzig appeared to be particularly good at dodging arguments before they could start properly. He straightened up from the table and beckoned towards Henry. “It’ll be a big change for you, Henry, I know,” Radzig said more quietly as Henry moved towards him. “I promise he’s not actually so terrible.”
“I’m sure,” Henry agreed, extremely doubtful.
“He and Hanush simply don’t know how to speak to each other yet.” Radzig briefly showed him how to trigger the lock for the door to his personal suite and motioned him in.
Clearly, Henry didn’t say. Instead, he commented, “It isn’t necessary for us to be friends, anyway. Just to keep track of his security.”
For a moment Radzig frowned, almost a little disappointed, but he shook his head and smiled calmy. “More than true,” he finally agreed.
Once Henry had been shown his new room, Hanush and Radzig bid him goodbye and left him to settle in. Music thudded louder through the walls once they’d left and Henry was happy to ignore the source upstairs for now. He was assigned to a room with a door near the main entrance and a personal bathroom bigger than he was used to. He eyed the shower controls warily before deciding he would figure them out in the morning. They’d filled the closet with an entirely new wardrobe for him and set out fresh toiletries as well, thankfully; Henry had come with nothing and personally owned even less.
Henry pulled off his clothes and found a hamper to throw them into. He pulled on a pair of dark sweats and was glad to see they fit around his waist. The holster was a tricky snap to undo but Henry figured it out and laid it and the gun out on a bedside table. There was a locking case underneath, but he was suddenly too fatigued to worry about figuring that out tonight.
He brushed his teeth slowly, eyeing himself in the mirror. There was stubble on his chin and a burn still healing underneath his ear. He grimaced and spat before finishing in the bathroom and retreating into the giant bed. It was softer than anything he’d had before and he knew he’d have trouble sleeping there for a while, but the loud bass warned him off even trying for now.
Exhaustion lay heavy over his body as he settled into the pillows. He twisted his arm to flip his new phone tablet open, figuring he’d play around with it before bed. It would help to be familiar with the applications. Henry browsed slowly through his contacts, unsurprised by most of them; Hanush, Radzig, emergency services, Hans Capon himself, and- his old contacts were in here too. Matthew, Bianca. His parents. Henry’s fingers hovered over the chat history, apprehension thick on his tongue, before quickly closing the contacts list altogether.
He couldn’t handle that right now. Instead, he pushed the next app in the line: contract.
A detailed profile for Hans filled the screen. Birthday, address, licenses, information about his scholarly achievements. Blood type, sex marker, secondary sex marker: Alpha. Henry scrolled past the description of Hans’ family history to the end of the page and then back up. A bright ID portrait sat at the time of the screen, showing a very slightly younger Hans smiling. He had most of the cyberware still installed and his grin showed more clearly the titanium caps on his set of Alpha fangs.
Henry made a face. He had seen an ad for them once on the side of a skytrain and had convinced himself that it was a service nobody would actually subscribe to. Apparently he was wrong; apparently there was at least one rich boy who felt his natural teeth weren’t sharp enough.
Henry ran his tongue over his own and shook his head, bemused. This contract was going to be more interesting than he had presumed. He’d have taken it anyway- he had no choice anymore.
All he had left was to hope things didn’t turn out too interesting.