Evan sat in the back seat of Arslan's limousine. The director, now his master, sat beside him. On his lap was a bag containing his chef's hat. He thought about everything that had happened to him since he arrived in Carnivory up to this moment.
"How do you feel?"
"I honestly don't know how to describe it…"
Arslan looked at him with a mix of support and masterly sternness. As if he were saying that whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
"Everyone has to go through this. Though you have it especially hard."
"And it won't get any easier?" Evan looked at Arslan with a question in his eyes.
"No, it won't."
They finally stopped and got out. They stood in front of a large, austere-looking building with a wide cobblestone courtyard. The sign at the entrance read "Department of Meat Law." Evan stared at the sign with wide eyes.
"I know it's strange, but this is where the patronage procedure is carried out."
They went inside. The floor was laid with light-colored stone. The walls were painted white. Along the walls were service windows for petitioners. It seemed as if there were no clerks behind them, yet they were there. As if they were almost invisible. A rather strange smell spread throughout the room. A mix of printer toner, paper, cheap coffee, teabag tea, and above all disinfectant that seemed to cover everything.
At the entrance stood a ticket machine. Arslan took a number. After a moment their turn came.
They approached the window.
"What is the matter regarding?" The clerk's voice betrayed no emotion. He seemed not to possess any. As if something had hollowed out his soul many years ago.
"I want to register a new person as a subject under patronage."
"Is the subject present?"
"He is." He pointed at Evan.
"ID, please."
Arslan handed him the card. The clerk checked it like a machine. His eyes seemed to move like those of a mannequin equipped with cameras.
"Please fill this out."
Arslan received a form. He filled it out for a while, then handed it back to the clerk.
"Here are your referrals. Zone 4."
Evan swallowed. Not a room, but a zone? He looked at Arslan, who seemed unfazed. After a moment he remembered that his master had once also been under patronage before becoming independent. Besides, he didn't know how many protégés he had had before.
Zone number four brought back memories he could now call… well, actually what… exciting, strange, dangerous, meaty… he didn't even know which word to use. He had the impression that this place was both a meat-processing facility and a security zone at the same time. It was as if two completely opposite things had been mixed together.
The first station in the zone contained a multitude of cameras. When he stood in front of them, he had the impression he was facing some Lovecraftian many-eyed monster.
"This is standard procedure. Please do not move." The clerk's voice was so dry that even a cheap synthesizer seemed more human than him.
The cameras activated. He heard the shutters.
"Scanning complete. Photos ready. Please proceed to the next station."
The next station consisted of a flat tablet and several robotic arms.
"Please place your hands on the tablet."
He did so. He felt a tingling sensation.
"Thank you. Fingerprint scan complete. Please proceed to the next station."
At the next station a clerk in medical attire was waiting. Evan immediately felt a certain… antipathy toward him. He looked a bit like a mad scientist or an employee of a criminal organization.
"Now we will take a swab and a scent sample. Please open your mouth."
He did so. The clerk inserted a medical swab into his mouth, then sensors surrounded him and something ran across his skin.
"Thank you, we have everything. Please sit down and wait."
Evan sat next to Arslan on a bench against the wall. Simply being in this place was uncomfortable for his psyche. He felt as if he were in a secret research facility he should never have entered. When he looked at the Director, he didn't seem happy to be there either. Evan noticed that he was clenching one fist.
"Patron and Protégé, please proceed to the final station."
This time they entered a room. Evan shuddered. It really did resemble a secret laboratory.
"Please sit on the chair and remove your shirt."
The clerk pointed to a chair with a low back. Evan complied reluctantly.
"Now the chips will be implanted and the identification tattoos prepared."
Evan was about to say something, but remembered that Shawn had those. He fell silent so as not to make a scene. He simply drifted off in his thoughts. After two pricks and a few moments of pain it was over. He had two chips: one at the back of his neck and one in his right wrist. Same with the tattoos. One on the wrist, one at the back of the neck, and a third on the collarbone. Barcodes… with every line he felt as if he were in some grim dystopia.
Finally the collar. Here everything was simple. Arslan simply put it on him. He said nothing. He decided it was better than if the clerk had to put it on.
Only after leaving the office and returning to the limousine did Evan speak.
"I hope the Director isn't going to play some SM games with me."
Arslan looked at him in surprise.
"I won't, but I'm afraid the girls will try to appropriate this collar somehow."
The limousine started moving and they both laughed lightly.
They arrived at the dormitory. Evan went inside feeling something strange. As if he had left one burden at the threshold and another immediately fell on him.
The girls were waiting for him in the living room; Dr. Florentine was with them.
Evan and Arslan sat down. The Director began speaking; from his tone it was clear the situation was serious.
"Girls, Evan has become my student and will still live with you. However, there are a few matters we need to discuss. Doctor, if I may…"
"Of course, Mr. Flambe." She cleared her throat and turned to the girls. "You must understand one thing. Passing the test did not cure Evan."
"No…" Aiko was surprised.
"Unfortunately… we gave him a point of support, but his psyche is still unstable."
Evan himself reluctantly nodded.
"The erosion is still strong. You must help him gradually weaken it until he regains stability."
"And that is?" Frida spoke combatively, as if she were about to start another fight in an alley.
"Do not speak to him in a way that associates with food. Avoid words such as: sweet, juicy, delicious, and appetizing."
Evan flinched slightly at those words. The girls' eyes widened.
"Is it that bad?" Callisa seemed to be in genuine shock.
"Unfortunately." The psychologist summed it up in one word.
"Alright, so we have to avoid words and behaviors associating Evan with food."
"Hard." Frida rested her head on her hand. Morona nodded.
"I understand, girls. Until now this… exoticism was one of the important elements of your relationship. You must know one thing. Your help is essential."
Frida raised her hand.
"Yes, Frida?"
"Watch the words and situations. Interrupt as soon as something starts going in the wrong direction." Arslan nodded. "And the collar? What about it when we play in the room?" She pointed to the floor and the SM room beneath it.
"The collar stays. If you really must, you can attach something to it during play. Anything else?"
Silence fell for a moment. Arslan and Dr. Florentine stood up.
"Good. I leave Evan in your care. Just remember that you answer to me for any damage to Evan. Good night."
They left, and everyone present sank deeper into the sofas and armchairs. A tired atmosphere settled over the room. No one had the strength or desire for a big celebration, but it was appropriate to toast the patronage and Evan's return.
Beer and snacks appeared on the table. They ate and drank in silence, barely talking to each other.