Chapter Nineteen
The Princess leaves. My body quivers watching the slim, leashed and castrated form follow her like a pet.
Miss Beatrice remains, beaming with pride.
“You’ve impressed the Princess, Captain. Do you want to serve? There are few choices here at the factory but this is one. Pleasing the royal family has its advantages over the alternatives.”
Yes, the unending toil in the generation chamber.
“I assure you, no prisoner ever returns to society. And the inquiries concerning you and your parachuting cohorts have all but ceased. Some postulation about an ill wind blowing numerous troops out to sea has served to curtail the search for bodies... and survivors as well of course.”
Miss Beatrice makes a rather depressingly logical point. I am unlikely to be found if there is no qu
