Chapter 1

Lynn Daniels sat silently staring at the message holo hovering above her small desk. The information it conveyed was as damaging as it was expected. The last few months had been so trying that she was almost numb to the final coup de grâce.

“Final Foreclosure Notice” it read. That and a lot of legal mumbo-jumbo all boiled down to the fact that the bank was going to take possession of their home in less than one month. How nice of them to mention that they would be willing to issue a short-term “bridge loan” for the three months plus penalties, that they were in arrears, so long as she was willing to put herself up as collateral for the loan. She sighed and waved her hand, making the offensive message disappear.

She sighed again and turned in her chair, startled to discover she wasn’t alone. Her seventeen-year-old son, Jack, was standing in the den’s doorway, casually leaning up against the doorframe. It wasn’t that he was so imposing; he stood six feet and probably weighed in at around one hundred seventy pounds, pretty average for a senior in secondary school. No, what was disturbing about him at times was his habit of moving quietly, almost like a cat stalking its prey. Lynn wasn’t even sure he realized he was doing it; it just came naturally to him. How unlike Troy, his bull of a father whose every step could be heard throughout the house when he moved, if his bombastic voice didn’t cover it up, that is. Lynn missed hearing that rumble. It had been almost four years since the accident had taken him from them, and she still missed it.

“Jack!” she exclaimed. “I wish you wouldn’t do that! You almost made me pee my pants!”

“Sorry, Mom,” he answered in that soft, almost singsong lilt of his. “Maybe I’ll start wearing a bell around my neck so you’ll know where I am.” The grin he was trying to hide under his obviously faked façade of remorse not only made her want to start giggling but again made her wonder if he really did do it on purpose.

“Harrumph,” she shorted. “Maybe we’ll just do that. Serve you right for sneaking up on a poor old woman.”

“Old woman,” he snorted himself. “You’re barely old enough to vote. Don’t give me that ‘old woman’ routine.” Lynn knew that at 38 she wouldn’t be considered old by any stretch of the imagination, especially these days when life expectancy, barring accident or terrorist attack, was well above the century mark. Still, there were times, like now, when she felt exceedingly old.

“What was that?” he asked. “It seemed to bother you. Not more collection agencies, I hope. It’s not like we have anything left for them to take.”

“Nothing for you to be concerned with,” she said, standing up. “And, no, it wasn’t a collection agency.” Mentally, she crossed her fingers. She didn’t like lying to him, and it was technically true: the bank wasn’t a collection agency ― but it was at best an obfuscation, even if it didn’t make it to the level of a blatant lie. Still, she didn’t want him to worry about that which he couldn’t control; that was her job. He seemed to think it was his duty now that his father was gone to become the man of the house and take care of their troubles. Lynn freely admitted to herself that she let him most of the time. For some reason, he seemed to be able to get even the most obstinate and unreasonable people to see things his way.

He did it with reason and unrelenting tenacity. It helped that he was a genius, Tested and Certified, Lynn thought proudly. His father always quipped that if his son’s brainpower could be transmuted into muscle, he would have been playing for the Chicago Bears at the age of twelve. One of her late husband’s few faults was his inability to appreciate intellectual pursuits over purely physical ones.

Not that Jack had grown up to be some wormy little science dweeb. He played a few sports: swimming, tennis, and even volleyball. He held his own but couldn’t be said to excel in any of them. He was a well-rounded, level-headed kid who just happened to be extremely smart. He even refused to be accelerated out of secondary school and into college, claiming he wanted the school experience with people his own age. Lynn suspected part of the reason was her inability to pay the college tuition, scholarships being a part of the dim past. The schools were little more than businesses, and far fewer people could afford to attend. Luckily, his school was one of the few that allowed their advanced students to take post-secondary courses for credit. By now, he had enough credits to be the equivalent of a late semester sophomore or early semester junior. Hopefully, it would help in the future.

“Then what was it?” he asked. Lynn knew she had to get out of there fast and find something else to occupy his interest, or his natural relentlessness would eventually drive the truth out of her.

“Nothing at all,” she said lightly, waving her hand again to lock the desk computer. “What is it you wanted, dear?”

“I just wanted to tell you dinner was ready,” he said, seeming to ignore the now-locked computer.

“Oh, good, I’m starving,” she said pleasantly. “I’ll set the table and have everything ready in about five minutes. Make sure you’re there on time.” She patted his arm as she walked past him and continued down the hall towards the kitchen.

“Sure, Mom, no problem,” he said to her retreating back. He watched her for a moment to make sure she wasn’t coming back, a chore that was pleasant no matter how you looked at it. Jack would be the first to admit his mother was one very hot chick. When he was sure she wasn’t coming back, he stepped into the den and within a few seconds had the computer unlocked and all recent messages transferred to the perscomp strapped to his wrist. For good measure, he reprogrammed the deskcomp to send him a copy of everything she sent or received. That task completed, he relocked the deskcomp, exited the room, and made his way to dinner. In all, it had taken him about thirty seconds to accomplish.

Later that evening, he transferred the downloaded data to his own deskcomp for ease of review and read her correspondence with single-minded attention. Finished, he sat back and idly drummed his fingers on the desktop. Suddenly, he froze, and after a few completely motionless minutes, he grinned and started “digging” into the web.

He had a lot of research to do.

---

“Mom, do you have a minute to talk?” Jack asked after rapping lightly on the doorframe to her bedroom. Lynn had been lightly dozing with the holo on after another fruitless evening of trying to think of a way they could get out of the mess they were in.

“Sure, honey,” she said, wrapping her robe back around her legs and patting the bedspread beside her. He sat down and stared at her intently.

“This looks serious,” she said lightly while trying to avoid his direct look. “Who’s in trouble? You or me?”

“Both of us, I would say,” he began. “I know about the problem with the mortgage. Have you thought of any solutions yet?”

“How do you know about that?” she demanded. “That’s not something you should be worrying about anyway. No, I haven’t thought of anything yet, but I’m sure something will come up. I just need to find a job, that’s all. I’m sure I’ll find one any day now.”

“Let’s be realistic, Mom,” he replied calmly. “Just about any job you’d be qualified for is being taken by an IS. Almost all of the non-professional labor out there is being done by indentured servants; even some of the professional work is going that way now. Face it, Mom, we have a slave society and we have to learn to survive in it.”

“It’s not nice to call them slaves,” Lynn snapped. “IS is bad enough.”

“I’m sure the difference means a great deal to them,” he said calmly again. Somehow even obviously sarcastic remarks weren’t quite as biting when he said them. “However, whether you call them ISs, slaves, or labor fairies; the result is the same. There isn’t a job out there for you that pays enough to make it worth the fuel to get to it.”

“Jack, I’m trying, really trying,” Lynn said, coming close to tears. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I know, Mom, I know,” Jack scooted over and put his arm around her shoulder. She did lean into him and start softly sobbing then. “I’ve been thinking about it for the past week or so, and I have a few ideas that might help us out.”

Lynn froze for a moment. The last thing she had wanted was to impose this problem on her son; unfortunately, it appeared she wasn’t going to have that option. What he said was entirely correct: Just about everything she was qualified to do was already being done by an IS. The fact was the labor market was literally a “buyers’ market.” Most employers would rather buy the body off the repo market, train it for what they want, and keep it for as long as they want. The awful fact was so many men had been killed in the past war against the Islamic fanatics and the recycled communists in South America that there was an overabundance of women of all ages. Human life was cheap, and females in particular were a resource corporations and the government were quite willing to utilize.

Of course, in the United States, outright slavery was still against the law. Sort of. The war, with its resulting destruction of almost all natural petroleum resources and the loss of so many lives, brought about a global economic depression unseen before. In the U.S., so many banks were going under because of bad debts and personal bankruptcies that the government finally felt it had to step in.

The Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America:

Section 1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.

Section 2. Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

No slavery or involuntary servitude? Not exactly. All it took was being convicted of a crime. What crime? That was up for interpretation, and Congress tended to interpret it rather liberally. At first, it was the standard capital crimes and felonies, but soon it was a crime to fail to pay off any unsecured debt. There had been talk of making any crime eligible for Indentured Servitude (slavery was never officially used; far too much baggage in the U.S. for that word to be condoned), however, this set off a number of general strikes and near-riot demonstrations, so the idea was quietly pulled and hidden away. The fact was nobody seemed to care if murderers or deadbeats were forced to work without pay, but try that for going a little too fast on the parkway, well, that hit a little too close to home.

The end result was Lynn found it almost impossible to compete against a woman who was forced to work for twelve hours a day for no pay, and then had to sleep with the boss at night! It isn’t fair, she protested. She also knew it didn’t matter what she thought.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I have to admit, I have no idea what to do. What did you come up with? By the way, I’m pretty ticked off you hacked my system. We’re going to talk about that later, mister!”

“Sure, Mom,” he said. “I’m sure I should feel bad about that.” Lynn noticed he didn’t say he felt bad, just that he should feel bad about it. In spite of everything, the one thing she had never caught him doing was lying to her. He may twist words into pretzel logic, sounding like one thing while actually saying another, but once his words were parsed out, you would find he invariably told the truth. Always.

“Anyway,” he continued. “The first thing we need to look at is what assets we have. The liabilities we already know.”

“That’s easy,” she said. “I have about three thousand ND (New Dollars) in the bank, and I suppose you have a few from the jobs you’ve been doing. Other than that, we don’t have squat. Probably everything left here in the house is worth less than a couple of thousand, even if you could get someone to buy it.”

“That’s about what I figure,” Jack replied. “With one big exception, we have ourselves. Well, you do anyway. Since I’m not eighteen, I can’t contract my body, but you can.”

“So you also want me to sell myself, do you?” Lynn had pretty much come to the same conclusion but was disappointed that Jack would so readily sell out his own mother. “But I guess you’re right. The bank made me an offer; I guess I’ll have to take it.”

“Bullshit!” he exclaimed. Lynn was stunned for a second; Jack almost never swore. “Those fucking parasites? They’d be getting you for almost nothing! What, a couple of months of house payments? Nothing doing!”

“Hey! Watch that language! Well, anyway, just how much do you think this old carcass is worth?” Lynn chuckled. “Think of putting me on the block or something?”

“Oh,” Jack blushed. “I guess that did sound bad. But actually, you’re right in a manner of speaking.”

“What?” Lynn was getting confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s start out with the obvious,” Jack said. “To begin with, you are a beautiful woman. I know it sounds bad, but you are worth a hell of a lot more than a couple of months’ house payments.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Lynn replied with a wrinkled brow. “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

“No, I said you are beautiful, not pretty,” Jack shook his head in wonder. Here they were talking about selling her into slavery, and she wanted to know if he thought she was pretty! “Let’s be honest: there would be plenty out there who would just love to have you as their own personal sex slave and pay top dollar to do it!”

“So you want to pimp me out?” she snorted. “Make my mother a whore? How nice. I think if that’s going to happen, I’d rather have a stranger do it to me.”

“Sorry, Mom, that’s not what I meant.” Jack quickly held up his hands. “All I was trying to say is that you are worth one hell of a lot more than what the bank was offering. Now hear me out: I think I’ve figured out a way that wouldn’t involve you having to sleep with anybody you didn’t want to.”

“So I get to pick who I whore myself to?” Lynn was starting to get a little angry.

“Forget the whoring,” Jack waved his hand. “That isn’t what this is about at all. Believe me: I have no desire for you to have to sleep with strangers. What I’m proposing would save you from that. If this works out like I think it will, you would never have to worry about that again.”

“Huh?” Lynn’s anger vanished and was replaced by puzzlement. “Okay, you have my attention.”

“Thank you,” Jack said with a grin. “Now there are basically two different ways you can use your, well, your body, as collateral for a loan. The first is pretty straightforward. You sign an agreement saying if you don’t make the payment, the lenders can take possession of you, and you become an IS at that time. Follow me so far?”

Lynn rolled her eyes at him but nodded anyway.

“I know: pretty simple stuff. This is what the bank is offering you. The problem with these loans right now is the interest rates are outrageous. It would be hard enough to make the interest payments alone, never mind the principal. It is definitely a sucker bet, and I don’t want you to take it.”

“But...” Lynn started, but she stopped quickly when Jack again held up his hand.

“Please, let me finish,” he said. “Like I said, I don’t want you to take that route. Now, I have found there is another way to get a loan. It’s through private investors and doesn’t go through the normal institutions. The advantage is they offer larger amounts and better interest rates.”

“If those are the advantages, what are the disadvantages?” Lynn asked. “If they’re such a good deal, everybody would do this and not go to the banks.”

“True,” Jack admitted. “There is a big disadvantage. These guys won’t lend on the possibility of the collateral becoming IS; they demand it happens before they lend the money.”

“So I would have to become an IS before we get the money? Then what’s the point? I’d become an IS either way; this way, it would just be sooner,” Lynn quipped.

“The difference is by becoming a Voluntary Indentured Servant, you have the choice of who or what owns your contract,” Jack said with a grin. “You see, we set up a corporation; you can do that before you go VIS and name me chairman and president. You own the one share of stock and proxy the vote to me while you are VIS. As you know, ISs can’t own or vote anything, and normally being underage, I can’t either. However, if we set it up like this, the corporation owns your contract, and I control the corporation. Nothing can happen to you so long as we make the payments.”

“Are you sure this is even legal?” she asked. “Sounds kind of fishy to me.”

“Yep, it’s legal,” Jack said with a nod. “I had three different law firms review it and give their opinion. Yeah, it’s using loopholes, but so what? What else is the practice of law but knowing which loopholes to use?”

“Where did you get the money to hire lawyers?” Lynn started to ask. She stopped when she realized she knew exactly where he got the money. Jack often hired himself out to local firms who were having problems with their computers. He could practically make them roll over and beg for him, so he always had fairly steady work whenever he wanted it.

“That money was supposed to be for college,” she said angrily.

“So?” he said with a shrug. “If we don’t get this fixed up, there won’t be any college anyway. Consider it an investment. Believe me: It was well worth the money I paid.”

“Okay, fine,” she huffed. “But it doesn’t make any difference where we get the money or what the interest rate is; we still won’t be able to make the payments sooner or later. We still don’t have much income, and it doesn’t look like we will for the foreseeable future. You can’t support us on what little you make from your little jobs.”

“You might be surprised how much I’m really making from those ‘little jobs,’ Mom,” he chuckled. “But that doesn’t matter. I have some ideas on how we can turn that loan into a real cash-generating machine. I just need enough to get it started. The private investors would give me enough to do that.”

“How do you plan to do that?” she asked.

“I could try to explain it to you, Mom, but I really don’t think you’d understand,” he said with a shrug. “For the most part, you’re going to have to trust me.”

“Oh, just like I’m going to have to trust you once you have a control collar on me?” She again rolled her eyes, this time in amusement. “I can just see it now: I might as well get the T-shirt with ‘House Slave’ written on it now.”

Jack laughed. “While that does have a certain ring to it, I think we can dispense with that worry. Granted, society and the law do put certain restrictions on ISs, whether it’s voluntary or not, but I propose that we get a lockbox that will open only to your thumbprint and put the controller in it. You will be the only one who can zap yourself if that’s what you want to do.”

“So, I would essentially be controlling myself?” she asked.

“Yep,” Jack nodded. “I can promise that after it goes into the box, I wouldn’t even touch the controller.”

“Well,” she said slowly. “I suppose, even if we didn’t do that, who else could I trust if not you? I’m not saying yes, but can we go over everything again so I can understand what it is you want to do?”

---

The final transaction was scheduled to take place at the lawyer’s office. The corporation had already been set up, proxies executed, and powers of attorney signed. The lead attorney initially scoffed when he saw who was actually going to “run” the corporation but relented when challenged by Jack on a double-your-fee-or-nothing bet that he couldn’t find the flaw in their plan. Everything was tight, so long as they continued to make their payments.

Finding the right consortium of investors had been a humiliating experience for Lynn. She understood that they would want to see the “goods,” and consented, if not cheerfully, to being holographed in a rather skimpy bathing suit. But that wasn’t good enough for some of them. More than one demanded to see her in person, and of those, no few thought they should be able to take her for “a test ride” before offering their money. These were quickly escorted out of the house by Jack with not so much as a thank you for coming.

“They’re betting we fail and they get to take possession of you,” Jack said with a shrug. “I guess I can’t blame them for trying, or for wanting you, but it isn’t going to happen.”

“Only you would think I’m pretty,” Lynn laughed as she slipped on her cover-wrap.

“Nonsense,” Jack argued. “I may be a little prejudiced, I’ll admit, but we’ve already been tendered one offer that’s fifty percent higher than I had estimated. You are hot property, Mom.”

She felt all warm and fuzzy inside when he said that, but right now, her insides were cold as ice from fear.

“Are we all ready to go here?” the head attorney asked, looking around the room. Everybody present either nodded or mumbled their assent. “Good. I’m Evan McDonald, lead counsel for DanielCorp (Jack and Lynn couldn’t agree on a name for their new corporation, so they went with the easiest). Mike Smithson over there is representing the loan originators, and Brad Philips, there, is an employee of Labor, Inc., and will be installing the device. I believe everything has been agreed to beforehand, so we have just a few formalities to run through.

“Mrs. Daniels, do you fully understand the terms of this note? You understand that even entering Indentured Servitude voluntarily, you will be subject to the same rules and regulations as those who are impressed involuntarily? I know you have signed the release, but I need to ensure you completely understand the ramifications: the travel restrictions, the suspension of citizenship, and all rights and protections that come with it. Once you sign this and that control collar is in place, you effectively stop being a citizen of the United States and become an asset of DanielCorp. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” Lynn said shakily. “I understand.”

“Now,” the lawyer continued. “With young Mr. Daniels having been installed as the president and CEO of this corporation, Mrs. Daniels, he in effect becomes your patron. He will now be in charge of you, not the other way around. Do you understand that?”

“Oh, yes,” Lynn answered in a firmer voice this time.

“In that case,” he said with a shrug, “you just have to sign and thumbprint the form. Mr. Philips will install the device, get the cash transferred, and we’ll be done. Here’s the form, Mrs. Daniels.” He pushed a folder across the table to her.

Jack reached out and pulled the folder in front of him, opened it, and started glancing through the forms.

“I’m sure everything is in order,” Smithson said sarcastically. “You don’t really intend to read the whole thing, do you? We’re busy men here; we don’t have time for this.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Smithson,” Jack said without looking up. “I’m a fast reader; this won’t take very long...” Jack suddenly froze and stared at the paper. Quickly, he went through the remaining couple of pages and then looked up at McDonald.

“Mr. McDonald, did you review this before giving it to us?”

“Well,” McDonald mumbled. “I glanced at it. Just to make sure all the names and dates were correct and all that.” He stopped for a moment and looked sheepish. “No, I can’t say I really read it over in depth. Is there a problem?”

“Yes,” Jack said, pointing to a specific article. “The interest rate is two points higher than we agreed on, and we also agreed there would be no penalty for prepayment. This is not what we agreed to.”

“Let me look at that, please,” McDonald asked as Jack passed him the folder.

“Evan, this is bullshit!” Smithson whined. “You know that interest rate was way too fucking low, and we have to have the prepayment penalty to ensure our investors get their return.”

“Then you shouldn’t have agreed to those terms, Mike,” McDonald said, still staring at the paper. Sighing, he closed the folder and looked over at Jack.

“I am terribly sorry, Mr. Daniels,” he said, shaking his head. “This was sloppy work on my part, and I take full responsibility. I assume these terms are unacceptable?”

“You assume correctly,” Jack said. “I can’t say I’m particularly happy with this; it should have been caught, but I appreciate and accept your apology.”

“Thank you, Mr. Daniels,” McDonald answered with a slight smile. “This is very unusual, I can assure you, but we will make it right.” He turned back to Smithson, “Now, Mike, to say the least, I am very unhappy about this...”

“Evan!” Smithson protested. “What’s the problem? It’s just some little prick and another cunt! Fuck, you know as well as I do these two will just blow the cash, and we’ll own her ass in another six months anyway!”

“The problem is you made me look bad,” McDonald said softly. “No, I take that back. I made me look bad, but you were the cause of it. Now, professional ethics prevents me from calling you a snake-fucking bastard, but they certainly don’t prevent me from bringing you up before the Exchange, and I think I can guarantee I have enough pull to make it stick. Now, I don’t know if Mr. Daniels would be interested in continuing to do business with you; I’m not sure I could in good conscience recommend that to him, but if he is, I would expect to see the correct paperwork here, in my hand in, oh, say, five minutes.”

“Mr. McDonald,” Jack interrupted, “if we are now renegotiating this agreement, I think it would be appropriate to extend the timetable by twelve months, and also knock a point off the interest rate. It would be the least they could do, seeing the mental duress they have put my mother through.” Everyone looked over at Lynn, who, while looking extremely puzzled, didn’t look all that distressed.

“I can see your point, Mr. Daniels,” McDonald agreed. “I’m sure this has been most stressful. Needless to say, I would be willing to represent you in this action gratis, seeing how it was my mistake that...”

“Now wait just a minute!” Smithson yelled. “What the hell are you talking about? There’s nothing illegal here! It was just a mistake!”

“Well, maybe nothing illegal, but certainly actionable,” McDonald said. “Attempted fraud, mental duress, and don’t let me forget, defamation. Unless ‘cunt’ is now considered an acceptable legal term for a lady. But we’ll let the court decide that. Of course, since most of the judges out there are women... Well, I guess you’ll just have to take your chance. Well, maybe not you since I expect you’ll have your license pulled by then.”

“You son-of-a... fine,” Smithson spat. “We’ll give the little prick and his... lady, the extra twelve months, and the point on the interest. In exchange for none of this ever coming anywhere near court, or the Exchange.”

McDonald looked over at Jack, who nodded. Turning back, McDonald said, “It’s agreed then. Do you want to type up the agreement, or shall I?”

“I’ll do it,” Smithson sneered. He spent a couple of minutes on his perscomp, and seconds later, it was spitting out the paperwork. McDonald took the papers and spent a good amount of time studying them line by line. When he was satisfied, he handed it to Jack, who also studied it. When he was assured it was all correct, he passed it to his mother. Lynn wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but seeing that Jack was satisfied, she quickly signed the paper.

“Very good,” McDonald said. “Mr. Philips, would you please?” The Labor, Inc. technician had been standing against the wall, out of the way, and was grinning like a fiend. It wasn’t often someone of his standing was privileged to see one of the high mucky-mucks taken down a peg or two, and by a boy still in his teens, no less! Picking up his bag, he walked over to the new IS and stood next to her. Generally speaking, there was no reason to be kind or courteous to his “clients,” but this was obviously a special case, and he didn’t fancy himself a stupid man by any means.

“Now, Mrs. Daniels,” he started, “we’ll make this as quick as possible. I assure you it’s entirely painless.” Reaching into his bag, he brought out a box that looked like it could have come from any jeweler, the type that upscale necklaces came in. Opening the box, he drew out a flat, iridescent band that shimmered in the sunlight coming through the window. He showed the band to everyone in the room and allowed the IS to look at it.

“It’s ... beautiful!” Lynn gasped, reaching out to gently touch the small diamond hanging from a ring in the center of the band.

“Yes,” Philips said, nodding. “This is one of our best. You can’t get any better without ordering a custom job. The very latest, with the upgrade cosmetic finish.”

“Where did you get the stone?” Lynn asked Jack. “This is far too expensive!”

“Actually, it’s your stone, Mom,” Jack said. “I took it off your wedding band. It seemed silly to have it just sitting in your jewelry box gathering dust. As for the expense, don’t worry about it. I told you I had some money of my own. Consider it my present to you. You’ve made quite a sacrifice here. You deserve something pretty.” Lynn was speechless. She literally couldn’t think of anything to say.

“It’s just about the best you can get,” Philips beamed, pleased with the reaction. “Now, Mrs. Daniels, if you would lift your hair out of the way?” Lynn’s beautiful brunette hair cascaded over her shoulders and down almost to the middle of her back. She gathered it together and moved it to the side, just like she would if someone were putting a necklace on her. Philips wrapped it around her neck, and within seconds, it was a seamless band around her neck. Reaching into his bag once again, he pulled out another, smaller box. Out of it came a standard miniature control fob.

“We’re almost done,” he said. He spent the next minute or two working with the fob and soon straightened up, looking around the room. “There, it’s done. They’re in sync and operational.”

“Other than this being an upgrade to our standard control device, everything else is the same,” he continued. “Trying to take it off without a factory rep will be painful and probably fatal. The GSP tracker is operational and feeding data to our net. We’ll know exactly where she is at all times. Now, let me show you the controls here...”

“That won’t be necessary,” Jack interrupted. “I’ve read the manual and know what the functions are.”

“Oh, okay, if you’re sure?” the technician said. “Well, fine, here it is then.” He handed the control over to Jack. “Then I’m done here. Gentlemen...” he said, picking up his bag and leaving.

“I believe we are also done here,” McDonald said as he closed the folder in front of him. “Mr. Daniels, if there is any problem whatsoever, please call me immediately. I again want to apologize for my oversight; I can only assure you it won’t happen again.”

“I wouldn’t expect it too, Mr. McDonald,” Jack said with a nod. “All is forgiven, so long as it doesn’t happen twice. Mother, are you ready to go?” He looked over at Smithson, nodded again, and started to walk out.

As they passed, Smithson grabbed Lynn’s arm and turned her towards him. “You, I’ll see later, bitch,” he hissed. “I figure it won’t take six months, and the two of you will be out of money, and we’ll own your ass. Believe me, when we do, I’m putting in a special request for you; then you and I will have some real fun.”

“Well, she isn’t yours yet,” Jack growled, as he reached over to force Smithson’s hand off of Lynn’s arm. “So until you do, just keep your hands to yourself.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” Smithson sneered.

“I―” Jack was about to say something when he was interrupted by McDonald.

“He won’t be doing anything, Mike,” McDonald said, interposing himself between the two. “To begin with, he has the perfect right to tell you to unhand her. You have no privilege to touch her in any way, now or maybe ever. Secondly, you’ve already embarrassed me enough here today, in my own office no less. You start a fight with a minor who also happens to be my client ― well, let’s just say I know a couple of boys who would happily break both your legs for less than it would cost me in filing fees to sue your ass.

“I hope this clears up any misunderstanding we may have had,” McDonald said. His face was a study in placid unconcern. As if he had just casually mentioned something about the pleasant weather instead of threatening to have Smithson’s limbs rearranged.

“Yeah,” Smithson sneered. “Perfectly clear.” Then he jabbed a finger in Jack’s direction. “As for you, smartass: We’re going to hold you to the letter of that contract. Not one cent less, not one second late.”

“Of course, Mr. Smithson,” Jack said with a shrug. “We are both bound by the contract. Not one cent more, not one second early.” With that, he turned away from Smithson and, with his hand in the small of her back, he guided Lynn out the door.

The ride home was quiet. Jack was lost in thought, and Lynn was rubbing the collar around her neck.

Jack seemed to be his old self when they arrived home, and after holding the door open for his mother, picked up a small bag from the floor and handed it to her.

“Here,” he said with a grin, “your new uniform.”

“What?” Lynn said, looking at the bag in her hand. She looked up at him questioningly and then opened it when it was obvious he wasn’t going to elaborate. She pulled out what looked like a lump of cloth. Shaking it out, it turned out to be a T-shirt dress in a pretty pink color, the kind that came down to about mid-thigh. She again looked at Jack questioningly, but all he did was grin and twirl his finger as if telling her to turn the dress around. She didn’t notice that he started backing up as she turned the dress around to look at the front. Across the front in highly stylized lettering were the words “HOUSE SLAVE.”

“Why, you!” she shouted and looked over just in time to see him dodging around a corner. “House slave, my ass!” she yelled after him. “We’ll see who still takes out the garbage around here!”

Chapter 2

Within the next day or two, everything seemed to return to normal as far as Lynn could tell. Jack spent most of his time in his room working on a few “projects.” It was all he would tell her, which wasn’t unusual. Lynn’s life was so much back into her normal routine that she even forgot she had a collar around her neck most of the time.

Jack hadn’t forgotten. In fact, one of his “projects” involved the controller to Lynn’s collar. True to his word, he didn’t touch it, other than to move it around in his room. He didn’t touch it, but he certainly spent enough time intercepting and attempting to decode the transmissions it sent and received.

For twenty years, Labor, Inc. made the claim that no one had ever been able to intercept and hijack one of its control collars. In fact, they claimed it was for all practical purposes impossible given the high-level encryption they employed. Jack hadn’t believed them, but after a full forty-eight hours of trying, he was willing to concede their system was pretty tough. However, Jack was nothing if not determined ― almost obsessive if the truth be known ― once he started something, and this was no exception.

Breaking the code for his mother’s controller was not necessary for the success of his primary mission of saving their house and livelihood. That was already underway and had been within half an hour of their bank acknowledging the receipt of the consortium’s monies. No, this was a personal project, one that he was sure his mother definitely wouldn’t approve of. While Jack was in most respects a good person, he had his darker side. It was almost as if there was only so much room in his soul, and he had to pack both his intellect and scruples into the same space, and with a large intellect, there just wasn’t much room for a lot of conscience. He had no intention of actually hurting anyone, but he didn’t even try to delude himself that what he was planning was ethical or moral, but interestingly enough, it was perfectly legal.

The other little project he had set for himself was absurdly simple. The consortium’s representative, Mike Smithson, had really pissed him off. He hated to be lied to or cheated on, and Smithson’s attempt infuriated him. Unfortunately ― or maybe fortunately ― he didn’t have Mr. McDonald’s contacts, so he couldn’t hire someone to break Smithson’s legs. Besides, that wasn’t the way he wanted to operate. Jack would rather slip the knife in from the back. The stabee didn’t even have to know who it came from; that was unimportant. Jack just wanted revenge, not acknowledgement.

Jack decided during the meeting that his revenge would have something to do with Smithson’s perscomp. It was simplicity itself to capture the frequency and data transmissions from Smithson’s perscomp, and since he had been using industry-standard encryption, another half an hour to break it. As long as Smithson’s laptop was connected to the net, which it almost always was, Jack could take control of it at any time he wanted. It was already as open to him as a book, although some of the files, mostly voice messages, were encrypted. Those took almost another half-hour to crack.

It was disappointing that there was very little in the way of incriminating evidence on Smithson’s perscomp. Some gray-area dealings, some negotiation strategies that were of questionable honesty, but nothing really against the law. Jack was about to wipe Smithson’s MSU (Main Storage Unit) and scramble the operating system when he stopped himself. For a reason he would be hard-put to explain even to this day, he didn’t. He was seconds away from executing the command when he suddenly decided he would rather have a peephole into the consortium’s workings than enjoy the petty pleasure of causing Smithson a day or two of inconvenience. Instead, he copied the MSU and installed a backdoor into the operating system. It was easy to set up a program that would filter everything that went through the perscomp and forward a copy to him of anything containing any one of a dozen or so keywords such as his or his mom’s name, their account number, etc.

After that, it was back to his other project: making his mother his lover.

---

Jack reasoned there were basically two ways to make this happen. The first and easiest method would be to simply force her. He had her controller, the knowledge to use it, and even the legal right to use it. He could simply pick it up, walk downstairs, and force her to have sex with him. Heck, in thirty minutes or less, he could be down there pounding away in her pussy! This is exactly where he wanted to be. But not like that.

He didn’t just want her body. As much as the thought of it thrilled him, he wanted more; he wanted her love, her willing and enthusiastic participation; he wanted her soul. With the amount of money he expected to make now that he had the capital he required, he could buy or rent a fuck toy anytime he wanted. Probably two or three of them if that was all he wanted. He wanted more, much more. He wanted the woman he loved to give herself to him, without qualms or reservations. He wanted to own her completely, not because of the collar around her neck, but because that’s what she wanted to do.

This brought him to the second method. Behavior modification can take many forms. Adverse conditioning, using pain or other unpleasant stimuli to guide the subject towards the desired path, seemed to be the most popular method of training recalcitrant ISs during this enlightened age. Jack was struck by the fact that the collar’s manual devoted over one hundred pages on how to use the various different levels and types of pain stimuli available, but only ten on how to use the pleasure settings. Luckily, there were many alternate sources of information. It turned out that behavioral conditioning using pleasure induction was a popular subject for both doctoral dissertations and master’s theses. In fact, he found a few that were almost step-by-step instructions on how to do exactly what he wanted to do. Who said higher education was wasted?

Lynn had just finished cleaning the already immaculate family room when she heard Jack coming down the stairs. Turning, she saw him enter the room and noticed he had a metal box the size of a shoe box under one arm and her collar control in the other hand.

“What’re you doing, honey?” she asked.

“Bringing you this,” he answered, holding out the controller. “Remember, I said you could have it. Well, here it is.” He dropped the controller into her outstretched hand. “I also brought a lockbox you can use to keep it,” he continued. “It has a thumb lock on it, so all we have to do is set it up, and you’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Honey, I was perfectly safe anyway,” she said with a laugh.

“True, but this way you’ll know you’re safe,” he grinned. “Besides, you don’t want me to have it if you try to ground me or something. Or maybe I should keep it. You never know when I might want a snack at night. No snack, one zap.” He faked pressing a button with his thumb.

“Right, you just try it, buster, and you’ll see just what kind of snack you get,” she said, trying to frown. “You zap me, and it’ll be fried worms for your main course.”

“That’s kind of what I figured,” he said with a shake of the head. “So, to eliminate any temptation, I thought you ought to keep it.”

“Hmm ... Maybe it is best if we put this little puppy under lock and key, so to speak,” she said with a nod. Quickly, he showed her how to reset the lockbox to her thumbprint and afterwards showed her that it would open to her touch, but not his. Lynn happily stowed it away in the top of her closet and promptly forgot about it. She didn’t even notice the collar anymore, and it was easy to forget that anything had ever changed.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t so easy to ignore when she went outside the house. Although she personally had never paid much attention to ISs before this happened to her, it soon became clear that lots of others did. She had been getting a lot of different looks from the people she met since her change in status; generally speaking, they weren’t favorable. Sometimes it went even further than looks. She had always been used to the fact that she got appraising looks from men, but with her collar on, it seemed they now felt it perfectly acceptable to voice their opinions out loud. She blushed and shrugged off their comments about her tits and ass, and even the occasional pinch or caress. After all, what could she do about it? What really brought it home to her was the chance meeting with an old friend of hers at the grocery store checkout line.

She had known Liz Moreno since just after high school, and while Lynn had lost contact with her over the past few years following her husband’s death, she still considered Liz to be one of her close friends. She hadn’t thought of Liz for a while and was pleasantly surprised to recognize the petite form of her friend just ahead of her in the cart scanner line. The face was turned away from her, but Lynn was sure it was Liz.

“Liz?” she asked, almost reaching out to tap the woman on the shoulder. Liz turned around, feigning surprise, and tried to paste a smile on her lips. It didn’t look very sincere.

“Why, Lynn, isn’t it?” Liz said, the tone was that of someone meeting a slight acquaintance after a long time. “How have you been? It’s been just ages.”

“Ah, fine, Liz,” Lynn responded, taken back by the coolness in the tone. “I really meant to come see you and Bill, but after Troy’s death...”

“Of course, dear, a terrible tragedy,” Liz answered. “I’m sure it must have been very difficult for you, what with little Jake and all.”

“Well, Jack, is almost all grown up now,” Lynn said. She was confused now. From anyone else except Liz, she would have been getting angry. Liz knew Jack, had babysat him more times than Lynn could count, and now she was sounding like she didn’t even know his name!

“Maybe we can get together soon,” Lynn offered. “I’d love to see you and Bill again, and I know Jack would like to see―”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Liz interrupted.

“Madam, is this ... person ... bothering you?” It was one of the store managers questioning Liz. He ignored Lynn with the exception of a snide, disdainful side glance.

“No, no, that’s quite all right,” she said, not looking at Lynn. “I was just leaving. I’m sorry, Lynn, it’s just, well, I’m sure you understand.” Turning, she pushed her cart into the scanner where the radio waves scanned the items in the cart and displayed the total on the screen. Touching the IDent pad with her index finger, she was identified, and the correct amount transferred from her bank account to the store’s account instantly. Lynn watched her leave, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Get your god-damned IS ass down to where you belong,” the manager hissed, rounding on Lynn.

“W-what?” she stuttered. She felt dazed, almost like it was happening to someone else.

“Down there, bitch!” he rasped, pointing to a line off to the side where a long line of ISs were queued up waiting their turn in at a single scanner. “Leave the citizens alone. You can try peddling your ass somewhere else.”

“But I...”

“Go on, get the hell out of here,” he snapped. “We don’t need your business anyway. Never could understand why some people feel the need to send their whore out to bother the public anyway, but I don’t have to put up with it. Now, get out of here before I call the cops!”

---

He found her crying on the couch later that afternoon. Dropping his books to the floor, he sat down next to her and drew her head over to his shoulder.

“What’s the matter, Mom?” he asked gently.

Through the sobs, she told him of what happened at the grocery store. He was shaking in barely controlled rage when he picked her up and sat her on his lap, wrapping both arms around her in a protective hug. Almost at once, Lynn felt better. The feeling of being nestled in next to his chest and his arm wrapped around her gave her a feeling of comfort she desperately needed. Burrowing her face into the crook of his neck helped, and she felt a pleasant tingle through her body that increased slightly as she plastered herself against him.

He was the one person she could trust, the one she could rely on not to judge her or look down on her just because she wore this stupid necklace. Little by little, the tension oozed out of her body as she rubbed her face in his neck and gently caressed his chest with her hand. In fact, with the lessening of the emotional tension and adrenaline rush accompanying it, she started to feel drowsy. He was saying something ― reassuring platitudes, she thought ― but she wasn’t sure since she wasn’t paying attention until finally she felt herself being lifted up completely.

“You need to get to bed,” he said softly. “We can talk about it later. Right now, you need some sleep.” She smiled slightly as he carried her up to her room and gently laid her down on the bed. He hesitated slightly, and she wondered if he was going to try to take off her clothing. She was both relieved and, to her surprise, slightly disappointed when he merely leaned over and kissed her forehead before covering her up and leaving. She was asleep before he closed the door behind him.

---

“I’m sorry I made such a scene yesterday,” she told him when he came down for breakfast the next morning. “I don’t normally picture myself as someone who’ll break down like that.”

“I don’t know how you couldn’t,” he reassured her as he walked over and gave her a little kiss on the back of the neck, wrapping his arms around her and giving a little squeeze. The contact sent a little buzz through her body, a pleasant one. It wasn’t like she actually felt it; it was more like a ghost feeling: you knew it was there but you could never actually feel it.

“I knew it would be tough on you,” he continued. “I hope you know how much I appreciate what you’re sacrificing for us.”

“I should have known what it would be like,” she admitted, snuggling back into him. It felt good to have his arms wrapped protectively around her. “I’ve seen how ISs are treated; I just never paid much attention to it before now. It’s quite an eye-opener being on this side of it, so to speak.”

“Well, if a dumb bitch like Aunt Liz is going to act like that, then we don’t need her anyway,” he said forcefully. He disentangled himself and patted her on the upper part of her bottom before turning and walking over to the small kitchen table to sit down.

“I should give you a good talking-to for calling Liz a bitch,” Lynn chuckled.

His pat on her butt hadn’t been anything more than a comforting gesture, but it still made her tingle with pleasure, although not as much as actually touching skin to skin did, she noted. It puzzled her a little since she had never noticed her reaction to his touch in quite that way before, but she reasoned it was just a manifestation of her desire for approval and positive feedback given what had happened the other day. After all, he was the only person she knew that looked past the band on her neck to see the person behind it. She figured her reaction was entirely normal and not necessarily a bad thing. Shouldn’t family give comfort to each other in times of emotional crises? And if this wasn’t at least an emotional crisis, then what else would it be?

“But,” she continued, “considering I was thinking the same thing, I guess I should let it slide.”

“You’re a lot more forgiving than I am,” Jack grumbled. “As far as I’m concerned, Mrs. Moreno can go fuck herself. She’s been your friend for how many years now? Twenty? And now just because you have that silly collar, she doesn’t want to talk to you. Doesn’t even want to admit she knows you. As far as I’m concerned, if you look up the definition of bitch, her picture would be right there next to it.”

“Language, Jack,” she chided. “Besides, maybe she thought I was now working as a prostitute or something like that. It’s not that bad an assumption; if it hadn’t been for you, that’s probably where I’d be right now. Although how much anyone would think they could make selling this old bag of bones, I don’t know.”

“Ah, don’t be silly, Mom,” he said a little more brightly. “You’re sexy as hell. I’d bet you’d make a fortune as a hooker.”

“Thanks, I guess,” she laughed. “I’m sure every mom wants to hear that her own son thinks she could make a living selling her body. And just what do you know about hookers, Mr. Jack Daniels?”

“Personally? Nothing,” he admitted with a shrug. “But just because I’m not particularly experienced doesn’t mean I’m stupid or that I don’t know why men or women would pay for sex. Nor does being your son blind me to the fact that you’re a beautiful and desirable woman. Yeah, I’m your son, but I’m still male, remember.”

“Well, I’m not sure this is an entirely appropriate conversation,” she said. “But I have to admit it does an old woman good to hear a young and handsome man thinks she is desirable, even if it is her own son.”

“I’ve never lied to you before, and I’m not going to start now, so if you don’t want to hear these things from me, just let me know, and I won’t say anything. But it’s kind of hard not to say anything when you’re standing there fishing for compliments.”

“I suppose I am, aren’t I,” she chuckled as she brought his breakfast over to the table and then sat down herself. “But I have to admit it does make me feel better, even if you are fudging the truth a little.”

“Not even a little bit,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s a reason the consortium was willing to loan us all that money. It was for the chance they might get to own you. These weren’t stupid people, Mom, and to be blunt, they knew, given a chance, they could make some serious change with you. You are my mom, and I love you, but Mom, you are one hot piece of property!”

“Oh my! You really know how to stroke my ego just when it’s needed,” she said as she stood up. Leaning over, she kissed his cheek and felt that same pleasurable tingle, maybe just a little bit stronger since there was skin-to-skin contact, enough so that she left her lips on his cheek for a few seconds longer than for just a peck. Pulling back, she shook her head slightly and walked back over to the sink. This time, she swayed her hips in an exaggerated bump and grind while looking back at him and batting her eyelashes. “Maybe I should be out peddling my ass then, instead of relying on those risky investments of yours.”