It was about a year ago, give or take.

“Titan years?” Eyrn asked.

“Well…yeah. I suppose Earth years are different?”

“A lot shorter. Sorry,” Eyrn said, shifting. She could see already that the human was struggling with this.

“It’s okay,” Yamanu said, quietly.

It was about a year or two ago, give or take. I was just shy of three years old, and I’d been shipped off from Margrita Lofos Human Farm to a pet shop in suburban Aement. I didn’t know that was where I was, exactly – I heard the words, but they were meaningless to me. It didn’t matter if I was in Aement or Sobdu or Tuaut or New Trantor, really – I was being sent where I was being sent, where I would be chosen by my Titan masters. That was all I knew. And it terrified me.

Life on the farm hadn’t been easy, mind you. We were taught to obey, taught to mind our masters. Margrita Lofos wasn’t as big as the Prenn operation, but it wasn’t a mom-and-pop breeder, either; the Titans who trained us were efficient and dispassionate. It was a job, and they didn’t care much whether we were happy or sad, just that we behaved the way their checklist told them we were supposed to.

As we grew, we were taught manners, taught discipline, taught when to talk and when to be quiet. As we grew older still, those of us who were considered good looking were trained in…other things. We look a lot like you, and while most Titans don’t use their human pets for their own pleasure…well, those that do expect their humans to know how to perform. We were taught to please both male and female Titans, be a good toy. Some of us were taught more than the basics – though those sessions weren’t official, and the Titans could get in trouble if they were found out. But of course, that only happened if they were caught with one of us, and they were careful. All of us knew better than to complain ourselves.

That isn’t to say there was no happiness to be found on the farm; there was. I had many friends there, humans like me who were meant to be sold, the breeding humans who would remain there until they could produce no more children, and those few humans who were kept around because they were good with the youngsters. We formed a sort of tribe, I suppose, a group of us bound together by our shared lot. We shared stories of Earth around the heater at night — telling the stories of our species’ history, such as we could remember it; telling the stories that our people had made up wholecloth, for in telling them, we were reminded that whatever the Titans claimed, we were capable of more than just being toys.

I knew that time would end, though, and it did; I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to my friends, but then, I knew I wouldn’t. Three of us were taken and put in boxes with air holes and some food, and we were split up from there; I didn’t know where I was until they opened my box in the pet store, and dropped me in with the others.

There were eight of us there; it wasn’t a large store, from what I’ve come to understand. We were in a corner, reasonably high up, secured from the shaars and trebllis and other animals they had for sale. Humans are relatively expensive, all things considered; I suppose we should be flattered.

Anyhow, like I said, there were eight of us; three were from the Prenn farms. They seemed nice enough, but they’d come in together, and they tended to stick to themselves. Four more were from local breeders – they’d been there about a month. And then there was me.

I was pretty shy, I guess; I know that seems weird, but it was all too much. New place, new surroundings, new people – I wasn’t ready for any of it. I could barely talk to anyone. Still embarrasses me, even though I know it shouldn’t.

“Damn right it shouldn’t,” Eyrn said. “I was just as bad when I got here, and I wasn’t waiting to be sold. If it wasn’t for Darren….”

She winced, and closed her eyes for a minute. Yamma hopped over on to the couch, and touched her hand gently. “I’m sorry about him. Really. And I’m hoping to meet him some day. He must be very brave.”

“He is,” Eyrn said, quietly. She was silent for a moment, and then she blew out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, I’ll try not to interrupt.”

“It’s okay,” Yamma said. “The story gets harder to tell after this.”

I don’t know how long I would have been allowed to be withdrawn. I do know the shop owner was already clucking over me, saying he got a lousy deal. If a human can’t be sold, well…maybe if you’re lucky you get given to the HOS, but euthanasia is legal if you jump the right hoops.

I might have been put down, but Aenur pulled me out of my shell.

She was from one of the local breeders – Abatuaut Farms, she said – and she was too brave to be shy, too proud to be scared. She sat down next to me one night, as I sat in the corner, staring out the glass window of the terrarium.

“New guy, you’re gonna get yourself sold to the Insectoids if you don’t start perking up,” she said.

I shrugged. She laughed. “That bad, huh? Man, you remind me of me when I got here. Fella, there aren’t many ways out of here, and the only ones that aren’t bad are with the Titans.”

“So I can be a good little toy,” I sighed. “I know, I’ve been trained.”

“Me too,” Aenur said, softly. “We all have. We all know what…what they might do to us,” she said. “But that’s why you have to be smart! You can help pick who buys you, you know. Like that family that was interested in you – they were looking for a friend for the youngsters. That’s not a bad life. I tried to get their attention, you saw?”

I nodded.

“And then there are others – you noticed we all acted like you when that one man came in?”

I looked over at her. “You’re saying try to figure out which Titans won’t abuse me? Try to make them buy me?”

She sighed. “It isn’t fair. We’re as smart as them. But they’re so big…we don’t have a choice. But we can at least try to have as good a life as we can. Maybe if you’re lucky they buy two humans, let you have a friend. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Good. Now, it’s a long night, and you’re probably tired; rest up. But tomorrow, when the Titans come in, be ready to show off. Because it’s the best we’re gonna do.”

She got up, and I said, quietly, “Thanks, Aenur.”

“You’re welcome, Yamanu,” she replied.

Over the next few days, Aenur helped me learn to read the Titans, learn to tell which ones were friendly and which were dangerous. It wasn’t easy; that cooing college student might seem like a doting owner, but Aernur heard they didn’t have much money; could they provide for you? That old couple might seem rather solemn, but did you hear them talking about their children who live far away? They might be looking for someone to fill that void. And different tactics worked on different people. If you looked too aware of being attractive – and Aenur certainly was – you might scare off that woman buying a pet for her and her partner. Come off as too active, and the older couple would blanche. Come off as too passive, and the college student would get bored.

It was a lot to learn, much that I had never heard at my farm. But she was smart and observant and beautiful and…and I fell in love with her, Eyrn. And yes, Gae knows, but we’re getting to that part.

I think she felt about me the way I did about her – certainly, we spent a lot of time together, more and more as I started to come out of my depression. And we did…some things. And no matter what Titans say about humans, we don’t partner off with just anyone.

You may think it strange that we didn’t talk about it, how we felt, but I think we both knew that the next day could change everything. Once, just once, she said she would like to be adopted with someone she knew, that she hoped that someone would want a male and a female – but we had no choice in it. We could try to influence them, but I could get picked up tomorrow by someone and I’d be gone – or she could – and if we admitted what we felt….

One night, long after the evening clerk had locked up the shop and fed us and gone home, we were laying together, dozing – for it was the time in the evening we usually slept – when a loud banging woke us up. Three Titans, wearing masks, had broke into the shop.

We had nowhere to run, and we all hoped that they were looking for money. We knew if they meant to hurt us that we were doomed. And when they headed straight for us, I think we all believed we were doomed. I held Aenur tightly; I would try to protect her, try to keep her alive.

But the first Titan to reach us just said, “Don’t be afraid, little ones. We’re here to rescue you.” She reached in, and grabbed us – not hard, but rushed – and put us one by one into a bag on another Titan’s back.

We were all too muddled to even understand had happened. For one thing, we were, all eight of us, laying haphazardly against each other, a small mass of humans in a bouncing sack. For another, it had happened so fast that it almost seemed to be part of a dream – it seemed unreal. It still does. All I know to be true is that Aenur and I found each other and held on tight, she crying and me too frightened to. All I knew was that I had her, and that would make it okay. It had to.

We were, soon enough, plucked from the bag and set in a terrarium, with maybe two dozen other humans. The Titans didn’t talk to us much – they talked to each other, mostly – so we talked to each other. Some of them were from other pet shops, and a few – including a few youngsters – were from a local breeder. None of us knew what the Titans wanted with us. Some had dark tales of being sold to the Insectoids, but Aenur told them to shut it – there was no need to frighten the youngsters. We would know soon enough.

Finally, at long last, a Titan came up to our terrarium, and said, “I know, this is probably a bit scary, but don’t worry, guys. My name is Ncaesi, I’m with TETH. Do you know what TETH is?”

She spoke in a chipper sing-song, like we were all idiots. But then, that’s how most Titans talked to us, so I didn’t know enough to be offended by it. Aenur simply nodded. “You guys are for humans, right?”

“Right, little one! We’re going to free you, let you live your own lives, the way you want to. Would you like that?”

Aenur looked at me, and then looked back at the woman. “Yes!” she cried. Ncaesi smiled back.

“Well, then, you get some rest. In the morning, we’re going to set you all free!”

Aenur turned to me, and embraced me. She was giggling with joy. “Did you hear that?” she asked. “We’re going to be free! No Titan masters, Yamma! Free!”

I held her close. I wanted to believe this was true, that it wasn’t a trick.

But we were still in a terrarium, and I wasn’t going to believe until we weren’t.

That night, I remember, she talked. Talked about all her hopes for freedom. She said it would be a hard life – that we would have to work. But she seemed excited about that, sure that we could do it. She believed in us, more than anyone I ever have met before or since.

She must have recognized my fear, because she reassured me that it would be wonderful, I’d see. If they freed us in a place where we could gather food, we could start to put together shelters. When I asked how, she laughed and said, “Like the Titans, silly! Look around you! They’ve shown us how. We just have to copy them. It’s easy!”

I fell asleep next to her, hoping against hope that she was right. That freedom would mean a chance for us to live as humans were meant to. Not as pets, or curiosities, or toys. As people. Like the Titans did.

Soon, they covered the terrarium; I remember that they must have loaded us in some sort of transport, and then unloaded us near a busy street on the edge of a small park. We heard Ncaesi speaking about something, and without warning, the cover of the terrarium was lifted, and we all blinked as we tried to see our surroundings through the suddenly blinding light.

“These are not pets!” Ncaesi was saying, using something to make her voice louder – I know now it was a vocal amplifier, but I did not then. “These are people! We have freed these humans from a life of servitude and degradation, and today we will set them free!”

Around us, there was a bit of commotion – people holding up vidscreens displaying disturbing shots of humans being mistreated; people holding up other vidscreens with letters – advertising for TETH, I now know.

There were a few onlookers, and some people took pictures; Ncaesi seemed quite pleased with herself. We were there for many hours, I know; I complained to Aenur, but she shook her head.

“Yamma, they’re trying to tell the Titans that we’re people! I know, they probably won’t convince everyone, but isn’t it good they’re trying?”

A dark-skinned Titan woman, one of those holding a vid screen, overheard my complaint. She came over to the terrarium, and looked at us apologetically, “I’m glad you’re excited,” she said to Aenur, “but I know, this is taking a long time. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Aenur said. “Really, it is.”

“Well, if you need anything, you yell at me, okay? I’m Gae – just yell my name, I’ll come over.”

“You’re giving us our freedom,” Aenur said. “I can ask no more.”

“Can too. This is the least we can do. I’m sorry,” Gae said. “I’m sorry you ever were up for sale.”

“You didn’t do that,” I said. “That’s not your fault.”

Gae looked around sadly. “It’s all our faults. I hope we can fix it.”

She didn’t say much more, as she was distracted by an altercation; peacekeepers were yelling at a woman with the group, asking something about sales slips for us, saying something about “inactive chips” –TETH had hacked all our ID chips to clear our identification information, though that meant nothing to me then. The peacekeeper was growing increasingly angry at the woman, and finally, she turned to Ncaesi, and said, “He wants those humans with their real owners.”

It sounded innocuous, but evidently, it was a code; Ncaesi walked over to our terrarium, and without a word, tipped it over, dropping us out.

We fell hard – none of us was expecting it, and all of us hurt. “Run! Be free!” Ncaesi shouted, as a few TETH folks walked in front of the now-enraged peacekeeper.

Well, what could we do? We ran. Even as I heard a lone voice cry out, “Wait – we can’t – not here!”

For the moment, we were free.

The next few hours are a blur to me. We were in what scientists call a “fight or flight” mode. We were scared, and knew that danger was everywhere. We hadn’t been placed in a preserve, or even a forest. We were in Aementos Central Park, which is barely a park. There are wooded areas, but they are spread out around the grassy areas and veeball courts and food vendors and grassy areas for the Titans to sun themselves. The part was designed to be a bit of blue-green space in the middle of a big city; it wasn’t designed to be a place for humans to live.

Of the two dozen who had been in the terrarium, 19 of us gathered under a bench a few hours later. Five of us had broken off, planning to seek out a Titan to take them in. I remember one of them saying that he’d take his chances in the shelter.

Looking back, I know he was right.

Aenur, alone among us, seemed to have kept her wits about her. It was mid-day, and a warm day in the park. She had guided us to shade, which felt good, but all of us were thirsty.

“We will need to find water,” she said. “That’s the most important thing. Then food, then shelter.”

“It’s hopeless,” one of the Prenn Ranch humans said. “We’re gonna die!”

“We may,” Aenur said. She stood ramrod straight, and smiled at us all. “We may die here; that is true. But if we die, friends, we die on our own, we die like people! Not like toys to be played with and thrown away, not even like pets to be loved. We die like the people we are – don’t you understand?” She took a deep breath. “We live and die as the humans on Earth did. For us.”

“For us,” I said. I looked around at the group, and said, “For us!”

A few others muttered it, then a few shouted it. It may not have been stealthy, but more than stealth, we needed hope at that moment. Aenur hadn’t lied to us – but she had promised us something more than we had ever had, something we had never tasted. In that moment, I was happier than I had ever been.

We did find water – a leaky pipe by a concession stand gave us all we needed. We found food aplenty by garbage cans, and cover in the trees. As the sun began to drop in the sky, I started to think maybe we could survive here. It would not be easy, but it could be done.

I looked through the tall grasses, and sighed.

“Our children will be born free,” Aenur said.

“The children of we humans?”

“The children of us,” she said, pulling me close. “Of you and of me. If you will be mine.”

I held on to her so tight I thought she might burst. “I will always be yours, Nuri. Always.”

She kissed me, and we walked back toward the camp.

And that’s when we heard the commotion.

It was a klipkaer. Have you seen them since you got here, Eyrn? They’re carnivores, have a hard shell – I’m not sure what a “turtle-dog” is, but…yeah, that sounds right. Well, I understand that when they’re with Titans, they’re very friendly and sweet. We were told growing up that Titans usually wouldn’t buy shaars and humans, because shaars have a tendency to kill anything our size. But kilpkaers can be trained to love just about anything.

Unfortunately, this klipkaer wasn’t with a Titan. It was on its own – I don’t know if it was lost, or if it was wild, but it was hungry, and it had come across a campsite full of bite-sized snacks.

It growled.

I saw it in slow motion. “Run. Get them away,” Aenur said, and she kissed me.

And then she ran for the creature.

She drew its attention. She veered off, then began to limp. It was on purpose, I think – to make the klipkaer see her as an easy target.

We had all backed away; she was close to it.

It turned to chase her.

I didn’t see it get her, but I heard – heard it howl, heard her scream. I did as she’d told me – she told me to get them away, we had to get away. Aenur told me to get the rest of the humans to safety, and somehow, despite not wanting to think or feel or take another step, I did.

We hid under a street cart, the kind that sells treats to children. We hid under there, and I lay on my back, and I wished to die, and I didn’t die.

She had died free. And I know – I know – that she was glad of that. Glad that if she had to die, she died saving us, died on her own terms, not those of a Titan master.

But she still died. And I can’t help but think that the universe would be better if she had lived.

It was several hours later. We had stayed where we were – we were all too numb to go on. That’s when we heard a slow stomping. The sound of a Titan.

We were making no noise, but still, I saw her feet moving toward us, step by step. She was using the TETH homing program, looking for us. She stopped right in front of the cart, and she lay down on her stomach, facing us.

“I won’t hurt you,” she said, softly. “I want to help you. I…this wasn’t what I thought it would be.”

She was crying; I could hear it in her voice. A familiar voice.

“I don’t expect you to trust me,” she said. “Not after what we did. But…I wanted to try to help if I could.”

“One of us is dead, you slag!” one of my fellow humans shouted. “And you say you want to help?”

I was about to yell something similar, but I was watching her face – well, it was hard not to – and I saw her reaction to that. It was as if she’d been kicked in the stomach.

“Oh, Emperor, what have we done?” she said, and covered her face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know they were going to dump you here. They said…they said there was a place….”

She kept her hand over her face for a long time, as if she couldn’t bear to look at us. When she spoke, her words surprised me.

“What was their name?” she asked.

“Aenur,” I said. “She and I….”

I couldn’t finish. The tears came out, and washed away the world; there was only my grief. I would never see Aenur again, and I couldn’t bear it.

When finally I was aware of the world again, I looked up, and saw that the woman was crying too. She looked at me, and said, “She was the one I talked to. The one who thanked me for freeing you all.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, one laced with bitterness and anger.

“I know you won’t believe me,” she said to me. “But if I could have died in her place, I would have.”

And the funny thing was, I did believe her. She has told me many times that she feels as if she killed Aenur. I wanted to blame her, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even blame the klipkaer. We had been given freedom, but we hadn’t been prepared for it. It had cost Aenur her life, and it would kill the rest of us, one by one. Maybe a few would hold on, but for what?

Don’t misunderstand me, Eyrn – Aenur was right. Complete freedom is what we deserve, not a shred less. But you can’t just turn humans loose on Archavia and expect us to thrive. We need to know what to do, need to practice, need to learn. Even then, some of us might die, but we’d have a chance. What TETH did to us was to take some youngsters, drop them in the woods and wish them well. Not because we were stupid or foolish, but because we were naïve. We did not know the first thing about living on our own.

Gae looked at us, her eyes filled with tears, and she said, “If any of you want to come with me…I promise, I’m not trying to take away your freedom. I want you to be free. But not like this – this….”

She swallowed hard. “If you come with me, I will help you live free. I promise. If you don’t want to…well, I understand.”

Only one of us stepped forward.

I don’t know that I would have if Aenur was there with me. But she was not. And I could not face it alone.

She left food for them, water, even some cloth – I don’t know that any could have survived, but…she gave them a chance.

As for me, she took me home, and she apologized, and has never stopped apologizing. And it wasn’t her fault, Eyrn! She was just there holding an electronic vidscreen. That’s all she did. That, and come back to find us that night. The only one of the TETH volunteers to care enough about us to do so.

She told me that night that she would take me anywhere I wanted to go; she even said she’d take me to this rumored human sanctuary that a rich woman runs – though she admitted that would take more money than she had at the time. But she promised that she would take me to the HOS, or set me free, or take me back to the pet store, or even allow me to stay with her for a few days while I made up my mind. A few days became a few months, became a whole year. I know if I asked her to set me free tomorrow, she’d be sad – but she would do it. I trust her, Eyrn. I always will.

* * *

“How can you?” Eyrn said, as Yamma leaned back. She looked on him in numb shock. He was grim, stone-faced – he reminded her a bit of Darren, when he didn’t want to let on that he was feeling something. But she could see it, under the surface – she knew it still cut him to the core, even after all this time.

“I have to believe in someone,” Yamma said. “In the time I’ve known Gae, she has never given me reason not to trust her. I’m not saying everything’s been smooth, or that she’s never treated me like a pet – but if I tell her that’s what she’s doing, she listens. She tries to do better. She wants to see me as an equal, and she tries with all she’s got, and I think she succeeds as much as anyone possibly could. And because of that…because of that I’m able to believe, just for a while, that I am.”

Eyrn looked at him for a hard moment. “You are equal, Yamanu.”

Yamma smiled at Eyrn. “You believe that. So do I. And so does Gae, Eyrn. She does.”

Eyrn stared sullenly away.

“Eyrn…they aren’t all bad. Most of them are just clueless. They don’t know. They don’t get it. They’ve grown up hearing that humans are lazy and stupid and no better than pets, and they believe that, because why wouldn’t they?”

Eyrn looked back at Yamma, a thought forming in the back of her head. “I remember,” she said, “being told as a kid that people with dark skin weren’t as smart as light-skinned people. Not by my parents – my dad lost most of his unit fighting for equality on Cemetery Ridge, he never bought into it – but from otherwise decent people, friends I met on post. And for a time…I wondered,” she said, shaking her head. “Can’t believe how stupid that was. I was a giant, and I’m thinking that the color of skin of a human made a lick of difference.”

“And how’d that change?”

“Army integrated during World War II, and I started meeting people with all different shades of skin. Oh, sure, they panicked a bit when they first met me, but that was pretty common no matter what skin color they had. No, once I got to know Black soldiers, Latino soldiers, Native Americans, Asian Americans — I discovered they were just like the white soldiers, and just like each other. Some were smart, some weren’t so smart, some brave, some cowardly, but no group more or less than folks with any other skin color. Heck, Sgt. Lou Washington – he was my minder back in the seventies – well, he showed more understanding of how I felt than anyone I ever met. He was Black, but then, I was a giant; neither one mattered. We were both people. That was all.”

Yamma nodded. “The Titans aren’t any worse than you were, Eyrn. And not any better, either. But most of them – I really believe that most of them would be willing to hear us if we could just get them to listen for a while. To really look at us. Not as their pets, but as people.”

Eyrn looked thoughtful. “Yamma…is this how you talk to Gae?”

“This is how I talk to everyone,” Yamma said with a chuckle.

Eyrn smiled wistfully. “She really thinks you’re a person?”

“She does,” he said. “Really.”

Eyrn sighed, and rubbed her eyes. “Yamma, you’re right – I’ve been lousy to her. To everyone, really.”

“You’re allowed,” Yamma said, gently touching Eyrn’s hand. “Really, Eyrn – you’re handling this better than most people would.”

Eyrn gave him a weak smile. “Thanks,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For yelling at your girlfriend. For Aenur. Mostly, for forgetting,” she said.

“Forgetting what?”

“That I’m not one of you,” Eyrn said. “I’m one of them. And if I’m gonna help all of you, I can’t forget it.”