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“That’s right, Alexander. All my ISs have been beaten for some infraction or other.

When they first arrive, Mr Drummond comes down hard on them for the smallest thing – it helps them learn much faster.

Once they understand that they’re very small, very unimportant cogs in a very big wheel, they’re happier here.

It’s like dogs understanding their role in the pack – a few bites, and they realise who’s in charge.

My ISs quickly learn not to question my authority; it’s easier that way. ”

“You rule by fear, pain, and intimidation,” Alex accused. “You go on and on about how much you hate what my family did to your father, but we treated him well – none of our indies are ever beaten.”

“I know – noblesse oblige and all that.” Tyler rolled his eyes.

“Your family loved playing at being the lords of the manor, smiling down benignly on your sweet little indies, kindly helping them out and asking only for their total adoration in return. I cut through all that crap – this is the true system, precisely as men like your grandfather designed it. I know, because I grew up in it. I’m just stripping away the pretence. ”

“You’re using it, that’s all. You’re using the system to accumulate more wealth and power for yourself, not to help anyone else.”

“Of course. That’s what the system is for.

I should know – it created me.” Tyler grinned.

“You exploit, or you are exploited, Alexander – and I know which I’d rather be.

Nobody will ever – ever – treat me as my father was treated.

I’ve made sure of that.” His eyes burned fiercely, and Alex realised that that was the crux of who George Tyler was.

“I’m not just a product of the system – I’m its end game.

Your grandfather built an empire on my father’s back.

That empire kept him and his family in luxury for years.

I learned from that, Alexander, and I learned well. ”

“My grandfather would never have envisaged the IS system ending up like this,” Alex said.

“Then it’s a failure of imagination on his part, but I suspect that if the wily old bastard were still alive now, he’d be doing exactly what I’m doing.

” Tyler smiled bitterly. “My father worked his fingers to the bone for your grandfather’s company – you didn’t see him, coming back late, night after night – and for what? ”

“So you got a shot at a better life than him,” Alex retorted. “And you did. His hard work earned you an education that he couldn’t have afforded otherwise.”

“And I’m putting it to good use. Now, before we go any further, we have urgent business to take care of. We must make sure you’re chipped again.” Tyler held out his hand, and the major-domo gave him a syringe.

Mick held Alex down while Tyler pushed the needle into his wrist. Then he stepped back, and they both watched as the red light pulsed into life under his skin. Alex slumped back onto the floor.

“So, what do I do with you now?” Tyler mused. “I gave you special treatment, Alexander, because you are special. You’re my pet project.” He put his hand on Alex’s hair and stroked it. Alex tried hard not to recoil in revulsion.

“I thought I could break you – mentally and emotionally – but Mr Drummond informs me that doesn’t work without some physical element, too. I was too soft on you, Alexander, and you repaid me by running away and causing me all this trouble.”

“You gave me to Jake Harper, and he beat me and raped me,” Alex reminded him. “That was pretty damn physical.”

“But he wasn’t me ,” Tyler snapped. “It has to be me. Mr Drummond is right – I gave you too much special treatment. I didn’t crush you hard enough, fast enough; that’s why you ran away.”

“It’s really not.”

Tyler waved his hand dismissively. “You forgot what you are, and I didn’t make it clear enough. My mistake – and yours – so…” He turned to a little bag lying on the sofa beside him. “We need to remind you. This should help.”

He took out a thick iron collar and held it up.

Then he waved his hand again. Mick held Alex in place while the major-domo took hold of his coat and pulled it off his shoulders, then ripped open his shirt and pulled that back, too, so that both his coat and shirt were tangled around his cuffed wrists.

Tyler leaned forward and stroked Alex’s bare neck. “You took off my ID tag; that makes me sad. I liked seeing it on you, but I’ll like seeing this on you better. You’re a convict – you should look like one.”

He clamped the thick metal around Alex’s neck and locked it into place. The collar was heavy and instantly felt restrictive and claustrophobic.

“That’s better. I like how that looks on you.

” Tyler nodded. “That should help to remind you, every day, that you belong to me. You’re not free – you can’t walk out of the door and go on some little escapade in the big wide world.

I own you, and the state endorses that. You’re an IS – and the sooner you embrace that fact, the easier it’ll be on you. Understand?”

Alex gazed at him mulishly. “Yes, sir,” he said in a dull tone. He had tried playing along with Tyler, and he’d tried escaping, but there was no getting away from the basic, obvious fact that Tyler owned him, and nothing was going to change that.

“The problem is, as always, that I don’t want you just to pay lip service to it – I want it to be real for you,” Tyler told him fiercely.

“I want you to believe it to the point where I could leave the door open, remove your tracking device, and give you a duck, and you still wouldn’t try to run away.

That’s what I want from you. I know I own you, and you know I own you, but I want you to really feel it and believe it.

I want you to know that being an IS isn’t just who you are – it’s all that you are. ”

“I know that’s what you want, but I don’t know how to give it to you,” Alex pleaded despairingly. “I tried – I honestly tried.”

Tyler laughed. “I know you did, but you were born to own indies, not be one. We have to get into your head, flick a switch, and make you see that that’s not who you are now – and we will do that, I promise.”

Alex felt a shiver run down his spine. He gazed helplessly at Tyler, wondering how he was going to achieve that and dreading finding out.

“You’re scared – that’s good.” Tyler nodded. “Now, obviously, you have to be punished – and I think we need an audience for that, don’t you?”

He stood up and clicked his fingers, and Solange was escorted into the room by one of the guards.

She was wearing a black woollen dress that reached to her knees, and a pair of red boots, and she looked as immaculate as ever.

Alex scanned her for signs of abuse or harm, but she looked well, so he thought it unlikely that Tyler knew the role she’d played in his escape.

“Solange, here, was devastated when you ran away.” Tyler smirked. “Look, Solange, my dear – our darling Alexander has returned to us. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, managing a wan smile.

“Well, go and say hello. You must be so pleased to have him back – you’ve been so lonely without him to keep you company in Vertex Tower, haven’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.” Solange walked obediently over and crouched down on the floor in front of him.

He wondered how he must look, kneeling here with this thick metal collar around his neck and bruises over his jaw, his coat and shirt stripped from his back and hanging from the cuffs around his wrists.

He gazed at the floor in shame, unable to meet her gaze, but she lifted up his chin and made him look at her.

Her eyes were dark pools of sorrow. “Hello, Alex,” she said. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” Then she kissed his forehead, and he wished he could tell her what had happened and explain why he hadn’t used the precious gifts she’d given him to win his freedom.

“Solange has been fretting about you. She’s upset that you ran out on us,” Tyler said.

“Yes. It’s good to have you back, Alex,” she told him, holding his face gently between her hands and gazing at him sadly.

“Of course, Alexander has to be punished, Solange,” Tyler said.

She swallowed hard and then nodded. “Yes, of course. He shouldn’t have run away like that and caused us all this worry,” she replied mechanically.

“That’s right. Go and stand over there, by the fireplace, where you can get a good view,” Tyler ordered, pointing .

She gave Alex one last pitying look, then stood up and walked over to the fireplace opposite the sofa, as instructed.

Tyler held out his hand, and Drummond stepped forward and handed him a long leather whip. This wasn’t the strap that he always carried on his belt – this was an altogether more sinister item.

Alex sat back on his heels, trying to brace himself for what was to come.

Tyler undid his shirt cuffs and slowly folded them back to the elbows.

Alex watched, his mouth dry.

Tyler pointed at the sofa with the whip.

Removing Alex’s belt, Drummond unfastened his jeans and yanked them down to his knees along with his boxer shorts.

Then, he and Mick picked Alex up and placed him on the sofa, with his knees on the centre seat and his chest facing the back.

Drummond unlocked his handcuffs and stripped his coat and shirt away, then Mick took hold of his right wrist, and Drummond the left.

They stood at opposite ends of the sofa and stretched him out, holding him down so that his chest rested on one of the upright cushions.

Now, his shoulders, back, buttocks, and upper thighs were exposed.

He shook as the cool air caressed his bare skin, aware of how many people were witnessing his punishment.

Tyler paced around behind him. “Why am I going to punish you, Alexander?”

“Honestly? Because you hate me,” Alex replied quietly.

Tyler gave a wry chuckle. “True enough,” he said. There was a brief pause, and then the whip whistled through the air and tore into Alex’s back.

He screamed – Harper’s belt was nothing in comparison to the pain of this whip, designed precisely for the purpose of inflicting pain.

He was still in shock from how much the first stroke had hurt when the second fell.

He screamed again. He tried pulling his arms away, to at least give pause to the raw, agonising pain as each new burning stroke was painted on his flesh, but Mick and Drummond held him tight, keeping him in place against the back of the sofa.

He was desperate for respite, if only for a second, but Tyler’s whip was unrelenting.

The room was silent save for his screams and the sound of the whip beating on his skin as Tyler struck him over and over again.

Sweat dripped into his eyes. He threw his head back to clear it. He no longer cried out at each stroke – he was screaming out one long, continuous howl of pain instead, his chest aching.

“I will break you, Alexander,” Tyler promised behind him. “Nobody escapes from me. Nobody.”

Alex could hear the note of angry pride in his voice, making it clear just how personal this was.

Tyler redoubled his efforts, hitting even harder.

Alex stopped screaming. He could barely breathe. He could hear a wild, ragged, rasping sound in his throat as he struggled to take in air. The thick iron collar was strangling him, and he began to choke.

“Sir…” he heard Drummond murmur. “That’s enough, sir.”

“It’s never enough,” Tyler snapped, hitting out again.

Alex was dimly aware that Tyler had lost control. The whipping had stoked his rage into a frenzy, and he was lost to reason. He suddenly understood that Tyler would whip him to death, and none of these people would try to stop him, because they were all too scared.

The whip rose and fell on his shoulders, his buttocks, and the backs of his legs. He couldn’t take the pain anymore. The world began to spin, going dark as he fought to breathe, and then from some great distance he heard a woman’s voice, screaming.

“STOP! You’re killing him! Please… stop!”

There was silence. Mick and Drummond released his arms, and Alex fell sideways, taking deep, gasping gulps of air.

There was blood splattered on the sofa, staining the white leather with bright red droplets; he stared at it stupidly before realising it was his own.

He also realised, through a haze, that the whipping had only stopped because Solange had thrown herself onto Tyler’s arm.

She was still hanging from it, trying to stop him from raising the whip again.

Tyler gave an irritated growl and threw her backwards, and she landed on the floor with a thud.

Throwing the whip to one side, he walked angrily towards her.

“Do you think I don’t know?” he snarled, taking hold of her beautiful hair and pulling her to her feet.

“Do you think I don’t know that you helped him?

What kind of an idiot do you think I am?

” Still holding her in place by the hair, he hit her across the face – once, twice, three times, making her squeal.

Then he grabbed her arm and raised it up.

“You cut the tracker out of his wrist and put it in yours. Did you seriously think we didn’t figure that out?

Did you imagine, for just one second, that we didn’t go over every inch of that security footage, so we could establish precisely what happened?

You helped him, Solange, and you betrayed me, and by God you’re going to pay for that. ”

Out of the corner of his eye Alex saw Ted running forward to protect her, but he was too late.

Tyler drew back his hand and delivered a swinging blow to Solange’s jaw.

She went flying across the room, headfirst into the ornate stone fireplace.

There was a sickening crack, her head jerked backwards…

and she fell to the floor, with blood trickling down her face. She lay in a crumpled heap, unmoving.

Tyler nudged her with his foot. “Get up,” he ordered. “I’m not done with you yet.”

“She’s not faking it – she’s hurt,” Ted cried, crouching down beside her. “Christ… she’s…” He put his ear to her chest and his fingers to the side of her neck. “She’s not breathing.” He looked up, the blood draining from his face. “You stupid fucking bastard, you went too far! You’ve killed her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s fine,” Tyler snapped. “Drummond?”

Drummond moved to examine Solange while Tyler stood there, his chest heaving as he struggled to recover from his all-consuming rage.

Alex was trembling violently from head to toe from the shock of the beating, and his vision was blurred by sweat, but he saw Drummond look up at Tyler and shake his head.

“Her neck is broken, sir,” he said. “She’s dead.”