The sad look on Chel’s face was enough to force Lexx to turn away. “If I had a bigger ship, I wouldn’t keep them in stasis at all, Chel. Some players store their dice in dice form all the time, except the hour a day required for training.. The code degrades and they atrophy if not let out. They lose strength and will. I don’t like keeping any of them in stasis, but that’s how it has to be.”
“Doesn’t anyone ever protest how the dice are treated?” Chel questioned quietly. “How you’re treated? Doesn’t any-“
“It’s our job,…” Lexx interjected bitterly. “By contract. We chose it.”
“Why?”
“I’m being sarcastic.” Lexx grumbled. “The fact is, the contract was signed in exchange for our education in the game as an employee.” He chose his words carefully. There were things he could say, things he couldn’t by the contract. “Nobody cares because we weren’t their problem as orphans. They think it’s a wonderful program. We’re trained for a job and we can work instead of begging and stealing. That is all they care about.” Lexx sighed, glancing at the ceiling, then turning back to Chel.
“You see, Chel,… out of sight, out of mind. Any orphan who doesn’t have a relative or someone claim them will end up at the ADC Academy. That’s the accepted way things are and it all looks great from the outside,.. but inside,… I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s going to end soon and I never want to have to think about this game again. Ever.”
