Alex refrained from pointing out that Three had only just scraped in ahead of Five and himself. Two had come top of the class, followed by Four, so if anyone should have been bragging, it was them.
“Ah, the mysteries of ironing. I’m sure we’ll unravel them all by the time we go home,” Two said mildly, stirring his tea.
“I suppose, given the expense and exclusivity of this course, that I was expecting something more, that’s all.” Three sniffed.
Two chuckled. “It’s only the first day. I’m sure it’ll liven up soon, and we’ll learn all sorts of interesting things. What do you think, One?” His eyes were twinkling as he glanced at Alex. “You seemed dissatisfied with the experience earlier.”
Alex shrugged. “It’s not what I expected, that’s all.”
“One wants more brutality,” Two said. “More hitting and shouting.” He winked at Alex.
“No, trust me, I don’t. I’m just confused as to why I’m here.”
“One thinks there’s been a mistake and he’s better than this.” Two grinned at him to make it clear this was a joke.
Alex rolled his eyes. “And Two likes to tease,” he riposted. “Look, this number thing is ridiculous. We’re alone now – why don’t we use our real names? I’m Al?—”
“Shh,” Four said suddenly. “I can hear F coming back.” They were all silent for a moment, but nobody appeared. “Sorry. I was sure I could hear him, and I didn’t want One getting into more trouble,” he said sheepishly.
“I think it would be safer to stick to numbers,” Two said firmly. “If we get used to calling each other by our real names,then we might forget and do it when F is here, and I have no wish to see a repeat of what happened earlier. It’s brutal and unnecessary.” There was a look of withering distaste on his lips as he spoke. He was a natural leader, and the group all nodded their agreement.
“I don’t like being reduced to a number,” Alex said. “We must fight for our identities.”
Two shook his head, laughing softly. “Tell me, One, how long have you been an IS?”
“About eight months.”
“And it shows, my dear boy. I’ve been in service for thirty years.”
“Twenty,” Four piped up dourly from the table, without looking up.
“Fourteen,” Three said.
“Eighteen months,” said Five.
Two took a sip of his tea. “Fighting for your identity isn’t a priority for a servant, One. Maybe that doesn’t matter to you. How long is your contract?”
“Seven years,” Alex said quietly. “But it was a penal contract, and I was expensive, so it’s more likely I’ll serve life.”
Five stopped pacing and stared at him, aghast, Three took a sharp intake of breath, and Four stopped reading to glance at him with a concerned frown.
Two gave him a look of genuine compassion. “I’m sorry, One. I won’t ask what brought you to such a sad pass, but you have my sympathy. A word of advice – you’ll find your servitude easier to bear if you stop placing so much importance on your identity. We’re all servants here. We serve – that’s our purpose. Nobody cares what we think or feel about anything.”
“I don’t think I can do that,” Alex said.
Two shot him a regretful smile. “I understand. You’re new to it. It’ll take time.”
This wasn’t advice that Alex wanted to hear, so he was glad that F’s return cut short any further conversation.
They were escorted back to the dorm, where they formed an orderly queue to wash and change into the standard-issue white tee-shirts and pyjama bottoms.
“Stand by your beds,” F ordered. They all scurried to obey, except Alex, who rolled his eyes and took his time, although he made sure to be in place just before F lost his temper. “Now, you know the drill. I expect you to be faster going forward,” F barked. “Your first day at Belvedere is over. I’ll be much harder on you in future.”
Alex traded an incredulous glance with Two at that.
“We have a bedtime ritual here at Belvedere: every day I’ll receive a report from your tutor.” F held up a white envelope. “The person receiving the highest score gets to use the bathroom first tomorrow morning. The person with the lowest score gets to spend the night in here.” He took a step forward and opened the white crate in the centre of the room.
“What?” Alex looked at Two, who looked equally shocked. The cage wasn’t long enough to stretch out in, and there were no blankets, pillows, or even a mattress. The bottom of the cage was made of hard, cold metal.
