Dependent Days

by Chris Sapp

  “Hell naw,” Rikon said, placing the prod in Blair’s waiting hand.

  “Thank you.” Blair thumbed the weapon to life and used it to carve a path. The arcs of electricity made quick work of the white silk. Since the Centaur carved a hole big enough for himself Augusto had no trouble following him. Rikon brought up the rear. The webbing only got thicker the further they went. Only about fifty percent of the light on the ceiling penetrated the mock rainforest canopy. Add in Clive’s handiwork and they were down to less than ten percent. He silently cursed himself for not remembering to grab flashlights, while simultaneously wondering if the Crucible contestants should be provided with flashlights. It wasn’t long before it was so dark that the only thing Augusto could see was the blue glow of the electric prod. Rikon said the prod was at half charge when they started. What happened when the charge ran out? Augusto hoped they never had to find out. The rescue team continued deeper into the spider web choked forest. No one said a word. Blair didn’t offer any encouraging thoughts that Rikon could disparage and vice versa. What at the start had been exciting and tense, had quickly degraded into tedious and very dull work. It wasn’t that Augusto wanted anything bad to happen, but he thought rescuing someone from a giant spider would’ve been more thrilling. He chided himself as soon as the thought occurred to him. Maybe he was just jaded from spending too much time working on the Crucible, where life and death was always hanging delicately in the balance. He was sure that this experience was plenty thrilling for Frye.

  They found the poor wrangler about five minutes and four hundred prod ignition firings later. He had been cocooned in silk and suspended from a large tree. There was no sign of Clive. Without a ladder, Blair was the only one that could reach him.

  “How do we get him down?” Augusto asked.

  “Same way we found him,” Blair said, thumbing the prod to life. “I’ll cut him loose. You two keep an eye out for Clive.”

  “Be quick about it doc,” Rikon said.

  Blair stepped forward and began cutting through the elf’s cocoon. Augusto could tell just by looking at it, that the cocoon was ten times as thick as the webbing that was draped in the trees. Which meant that it would take ten times as long for Blair to burn through it. Augusto turned his back on the Centaur and looked out at the darkness. He glanced at Rikon to make sure he was following suite. He was. Despite his smart mouth and lousy attitude, he could be trusted to do what was necessary when it really mattered. Augusto returned his gaze to the darkness and it wasn’t long before his imagination had him jumping at shadows. His palms were slick with sweat. His pulse throbbed in his head. Had he really called this rescue dull?

  “How ya coming doc?” Rikon asked. Damnit Rikon, Augusto thought. He was sure that Blair was moving as fast as he could.

  “Almost there,” Blair responded. The strain in his voice caused Augusto to turn around and look. Blair was cradling the top half of Frye’s body, which was now free of the cocoon, with one hand while simultaneously cutting with other.

  “Do you need a han—

  Augusto’s offer of assistance was interrupted by the ringing of a datapad.

  RING! RING! RING!

  “Damnit Rikon, didn’t I tell you to put your datapad on silent?” Augusto asked.

  RING! RING! RING!

  “That ain’t me, that’s you,” Rikon said.

  “What?” Augusto asked.

  RING! RING! RING!

  Damnit! Rikon was right. It was his datapad. But that was impossible. He knew he had put the damn thing in silent mode. He fumbled into his pocket wondering who in the hell was calling him.

  RING! RING! RING!

  He retrieved his datapad from the deep recesses of his pocket. Fahrenheit General Hospital was calling him. It was the emergency ring, that’s why he hadn’t recognized it. It was the only ring programed to override the silent mode. If the hospital was calling, then something must be happening with Silvio.

  “Hello?” he said, answering it in mid ring.

  “Mr. Valdez? Augusto Valdez?” A young sweet voice asked.

  “Yes, that’s me,” he said.

  “This is Nurse Adams at Fahrenheit General Hospital. Kym told me to call you.”

  His mind was racing. He didn’t have a clue who Nurse Adams was.

  “What’s happened? Is Silvio awake?” he asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

  “No, it’s your father. He wants to take Silvio off life support,” Nurse Adams said. Augusto’s stomach cramped instantly as if a Giant had plunged a massive hand into his abdomen and grabbed a handful of his intestines. The world went gray. His eyes saw Blair lower Frye’s body gently to the ground. His ears heard Rikon comment on how bad he looked. But his mind registered none of it. He had fallen to one knee by the time he regained control.

  “What? What the fuck are you talking about?” He said, much harsher than he anticipated.

  “Your father is here and he’s threatening to take Silvio off life support. You need to get here as fast as you can,” she said.

  “I’m on my way,” he said, terminating the call. He stood up. The pain in his stomach was still there. But the numbness he had felt moments earlier had been replaced with raw rage.

  “I’m sorry but I have to leave,” he said.

  “No problem. We can handle it from here,” Blair said, giving Augusto the briefest of glances.

  “Rikon, stay with Doctor Hawkins until this is handled,” Augusto ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” Rikon said.

  Relieved that the current situation was being left in confident hands, Augusto turned and ran back the way they had come. He knew full well that his rapid movement could easily detect Clive’s attention. But caution was a luxury he could not afford. Besides, if he was delayed by a spider attack and his impatient father decided to pull the plug on his brother’s life support, then the old bastard would lose his title and both of his sons in the same day. Part of Augusto’s mind wished for this to happen. There would be a certain amount of poetic justice in it. But he had never known the Gods to be so just.

  TO GET FROM Centropolis Stadium to Fahrenheit General Hospital took two hours and forty-eight minutes. Augusto knew that, because he made the trip once a week to see his comatose brother. One hour and fifteen minutes after hanging up the phone, Augusto was running down the hallway towards room 523. When he arrived he found Kym standing in front of the closed door.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here,” she said, grabbing his arms. The skin below her bulbous eyes was puffy as if she’d been crying.

  “What happened? Why are you out here?” he asked.

  “Your father won’t let anyone in the room. He said that if anyone besides you tries to come in, he’ll pull the plug,” she told him.

  Augusto noticed that her left eye was swollen as if he’s been punched. He reached up and cupped her chin, so he could take a closer look at it.

  “That bastard hit you?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. Of course Paco had hit the nurse that had refused three promotions so that she could keep vigil over his favorite son. The rage Augusto felt earlier had settled into a simmer during his flight over, but now it was climbing towards a boil.

  “I hit him first,” she said.

  “I’m sorry. I should’ve been here.”

  “All that matters is that you’re here now,” she said, taking his hand in hers. She placed a kiss on his largest knuckle.

  “Silvio will wake up. I know it in my heart,” Kym said and then she moved out of the way. Steeling himself, he grabbed the knob and entered. The room was dark and ripe with the stench of alcohol. The lights on the machines that were keeping his brother alive blinked at him in the darkness. Silvio was lying flat on his back, just as he had been for the last 1,106 days. Paco was passed out in the guest chair. An empty liquor bottle lay at his feet. His left hand lay limply against his inner thigh. Augusto raised his hoof, intending to kick his father into consciousness. But he stopped when he saw where h
is father’s right hand was. His fury imploded and his whole body shook with unreleased emotion. The sick bastard had duct taped his hand to the power cord on his brother’s life support. He lowered his hoof and took three deliberately slow breaths.

  “Wake up,” he growled into the darkness.

  Paco stirred but he didn’t rouse. It took everything he had to keep from yelling at his father. But he couldn’t dare risk it. The Gods and their version of justice would see to it that his father unplugged Silvio’s life support upon waking.

  “Wake up Paco,” Augusto said.

  When that didn’t work, another alternative occurred to him. Augusto slowly crossed the room and found the panel that worked the lights. There were three switches. He flipped all of them. He didn’t see his father rouse because he had been forced to squint against the blinding light, but he heard it. By the time his eyes adjusted, he saw that his father was fully awake and glaring at him with bloodshot eyes.

  “God damn boy, a minotaur’s likely to die waiting on you,” Paco snarled and sat upright. The movement was much too quick for Augusto’s liking.

  “Careful,” he warned, his eyes never leaving the plug.

  “Oh, you like that?” Paco said, following his son’s gaze. “Beats a live grenade everyday of the week and twice on Sundays.”

  “What are you doing?” Augusto asked.

  “I’m keeping my promise. I’m forcing your decision. I take it Nurse Big Eyes has filled you in on the current situation?”

  Like all zero-g addicts, Kym possessed very large eyes that protruded off their sides of her head.

  “Yes, she has,” Augusto said. It pained him not to address his father’s verbal and physical abuse of Kym but he knew it would only delay them in resolving the issue at hand.

  “So what’s it going to be boy? Am I pulling this plug or are you going to finally find a pair and challenge me?” Paco asked as he slowly stood up. First on the flesh and blood hoof and then the peg. Augusto could see the muscles in forearm twitching. As if they couldn’t wait for his demented brain to give the order to pull the plug.

  “Are you really so desperate for an heir that you are willing to murder your own?” Augusto asked.

  “It’s not murder if he’s already dead and without the benefit of the machines you see in this room, that’s exactly what he’d be. Now, stop stalling and answer the question,” Paco snarled.

  Paco said and did a lot things but one thing he never did was bluff. If he said he was going to do something then he was going to do it or die trying. Augusto knew that if he refused to challenge him, then the old bastard would pull the plug. The power to save his brother’s life was in his hands. But at what cost? He could save his brother’s life but for what? So, he could continue to lie in a coma day after day? So, Kym could turn down another well deserved promotion in favor of giving Silvio a sponge bath? Or clip his nails and polish what was left of his horns? Not to mention his own self sacrifice. He felt better about the upcoming Crucible then he had ever felt and if the event went over as well as he believed it would then he would become the most successful Crucible Administrator in history. A great accomplishment that wouldn’t meant jack shit if he took the reins of Valdez Industries. Augusto loved his brother but Silvio’s condition had become a weight that was pulling all of them down. Perhaps his father was right. Maybe Silvio was already dead and it was just Kym and himself that refused to believe it. Yanking Silvio’s life support was by far the most drastic and twisted thing his father had ever done in attempt to provoke him into challenging. If Augusto could withstand this, then there wasn’t anything worse his father could do. So, maybe he should refuse and let his father pull the cord. He was about to say it, when he heard Kym’s voice in his head.

  Silvio will wake up. I know it in my heart.

  Augusto had no doubt that she truly believed that. But at the end of the day they were just the beliefs of a nurse that had committed the cardinal sin of falling in love with one of her patients. She would hate him for letting his father pull the plug, but hopefully one day she would understand that he was freeing her as much as himself.

  “Fine,” Augusto said.

  “God damn, I’m glad you finally came to your senses,” Paco said.

  “Fine,” Augusto repeated, “pull the plug and that will be the end of it. Silvio will be dead and I will still refuse to challenge you. The Czar will replace you within a week.”

  Paco stared at Augusto in disbelief.

  “I can see the hate you harbor for me. If I pull this plug, that hate will blossom into full blown rage.”

  Augusto said nothing. His father glared and he matched it. This was the first time he had truly stood up to his father and it felt wonderful. As if an invisible weight had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. He was still basking in the glory of standing up to his father when the bastard pulled the plug.

  Augusto gasped. He knew his father would do it, but the demented act still took his breath away. He shifted his gaze from his father, who was standing there with the limp cord in his hand, over to his brother’s body. At least he had died peacefully. Wait…his chest was still rising and…falling. Augusto stared at the machines in confusion. The lights were still on. His father had pulled the plug. Why were the lights still blinking? Why were they continuing to keep Silvio alive?

  “What the hell?” Paco raged.

  Then the door burst open and the room was flooded with people. The first to enter were two ten foot tall Ogres in hospital security uniforms who seized Paco by the arms. A six inch tall faery with glittery wings was next, followed by Kym.

  “Get the fuck off of me!” Paco bellowed. “Don’t you know who the hell I am?”

  “We are escorting you off the premises, sir,” said one of the Ogres.

  “On who’s authority? I’m a god damn Druglord!”

  “On my authority,” said the faery,” I’m the Chief Administrator and this is my hospital. You are being escorted off the premises and you are never to return.”

  Paco continued to struggle as the two security guards escorted him out of the room. The Chief Administrator followed. Apparently, she intended to see Paco escorted all the way to the curb. Augusto watched in stunned silence at the abrupt change of events. Kym floated over to Silvio’s bedside and checked his vitals.

  “How is this possible?” he asked.

  She responded by darting across the room and slapping him in the face. His head twisted violently to the side. His ear throbbed where her lanky fingers had connected with it.

  “Damn you! How could you let your father pull the plug?” She said. Angry tears gleamed in her eyes.

  “I…I thought it was the right thing to do,” he mumbled, “How is he—

  “I switched the cords while your father slept. I was afraid he would grow impatient waiting on you. But I never thought you would allow him to pull it.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” he asked.

  “Challenge him. Silvio would be ashamed of you. He would’ve challenged if the situation was reversed,” she said.

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand plenty. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to tend to my patient.” She turned her back on him and crossed to Silvio’s bed.

  “Kym?”

  “Leave,” she said without turning around.

  KARIAH

  KARIAH wasn’t sleeping. Her nights were no longer plagued by nightmares of infant devouring flytraps. Now, when she closed her eyes all she could think about was death.

  Magnus’ death.

  Blair and her worked tirelessly to come up with an undetectable and untraceable death potion. A nearly impossible task, even for award winning chemists. Creating the potion wasn’t the problem. The amount of toxic chemicals available to them was endless. But hiding such chemicals was another matter entirely. They briefly entertained the idea of poisoning Magnus’ morphagens. They were confident that they could make it look like an overdose. But the centaur morphagen
was mixed in the very labs they supervised and they knew the only way they could get away with poisoning Magnus’ morphagens was to poison an entire batch. But that meant, putting innocent people at risk and Kariah wanted no part of that. Enough innocents had been harmed already.

  So, they had moved on to contact poisons. This was one of Blair’s specialities. But what surface could they apply it to that would ensure no one but Magnus would touch it? They had pondered it for a day. Then one night when Blair and her had been alone in the labs, he had asked her “Do you and Magnus still make love?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Kariah tried to walk away but Blair gently caught her arm.

  “Kariah, I wasn’t trying to intrude and the last thing I want to do is upset you more than you already are. But we are conspiring to murder your husband. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “I didn’t think so. Now, if you’re as serious as you say you are, then I believe you should hear me out.”

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms.

  “Okay. All I’m suggesting, is that we place a contact poison somewhere on your body, somewhere that your husband might kiss, for example. Now it would be completely harmless to you-

  “That’s not going to work.”

  “Of course, it will. Now-”

  “No, it won’t,” she turned away and he cantered after her. He was faster than her and in no time at all he was standing in front of her, blocking her path.

  “Move Blair. I’m done for the night”

  “Kariah, please listen to me. It will only harm him. I promise. You will be completely safe.”

  “That’s…not the problem.” Her eyes began to fill up with tears.

  “Then what is?”

  She didn’t want to tell him. It was too embarrassing, too painful. But when she looked into his eyes, she saw genuine concern there. When was the last time someone had looked at her with that much concern? She honestly couldn’t remember.