New Rome

46. A Sensitive Soul

Sextus was sat at his desk, using a mirror to check his reflection. He ran a finger along the side of his face, fawning over the silky feel. Surgery wasn't cheap but it was certainly worth every penny. He admired his stretched skin, remembering the wrinkles that had creased it before. With enough treatments, perhaps he'd be able to turn back the clock. He dapped a light application of makeup to his cheeks, adding some youthful colour.

A buzz interrupted his tranquillity.

"Consul Lex requests words with you." His assistant's voice came over the intercom.

"Allow him through."

The doors to his office were swiftly swung open and Lex marched through – his expression indignant. "Ah, greetings my dear fellow." Sextus smiled genially at his colleague and indicated for him to take the seat opposite.

"You must break words with your assistant." Lex ranted – remaining standing. "She shamed herself by keeping me waiting, as if I were a common worker."

Sextus waved a hand complacently, knowing full well that the mild gesture irritated Lex.

"She guards me, perhaps over diligently. But I would never rebuke a staff member for being careful in their duties."

Lex's nostrils flared angrily.

"I am a consul."

"And so am I." A hint of ire leaked into Sextus' tone but he smiled quickly – covering it. "What brings you here?"

Lex hesitated, appearing torn. Sextus' lip twitched. Yes, squirm, he thought smugly. Squirm because you need my help. Squirm at the uncomfortable realisation that you are not above me.

"The Abolition of Freedom debates, you have so far been uncommunicative in them. What is your stance?"

"My stance?" Sextus feigned puzzlement. "I thought not to interfere. This project is a child of your vision."

"Do you support it?"

Sextus pursed his lips, putting on a show of considering the matter.

"I am a... sensitive soul," he replied slowly. "And the plight of my fellow man touches me deeply. Consigning them to no hope of freedom troubles me."

Lex huffed angrily. An argument about morals was not his forte.

"These are not your 'fellow man' – they are slaves." He replied brusquely. "Once freed they become only part of the poorer end of society. The scum that cause nothing but trouble. Poverty breeds unrest and rebellion. For our country's sake, for our own protection, for society's protection – they should never be freed."

Sextus studied his finger nails.

"What man doesn't have a slave amongst his ancestors? You speak as if the matter is between 'us' and 'them'. But we were all 'them' once."

Lex slammed his fist down on the desk.

"Don't throw that pretty shit at me. You were born with a silver spoon in hand and a fucking diamond rattle! You speak of sensitivity – you only have the luxury of being sensitive because you've never known struggle."

Sextus finally raised his head and looked Lex in the eye – his genial smile gone. Lex stiffened, surprised by the cold glint in Sextus' eyes.