Ajax: Relinquished

by Gavin Magson

  The quivering Raúl only appeared more afraid; he stared past Ajax at a door that was out of sight of the shackled man. Ajax heard the footsteps pause; there was a split second before the loud thuds of a fist hammering on metal rang around the room.

  Raúl snapped alert and scrabbled for purchase as he tried to stand up and reach the door in his haste. Rusted hinges protested against their movement and Ajax heard a grunt come from Raúl as he pulled open the resisting door. When the two men stepped into view Ajax could not believe his eyes, he had to check twice before his brain could catch up with the sight.

  “Did you honestly think it would be that simple to kill me, Mr Frost?” asked Henry, not a single mark evident on his damp body.

  Henry had not bothered towelling off the gel that now soaked his clothes and dripped from his body, his flesh gleamed under the little light available in the basement. He picked up the bottle from the floor and drained its contents with a satisfied sigh.

  “How is this possible?” asked Ajax when speech eventually returned to him.

  The new Henry stepped over the corpse at his feet, seemingly ignorant of the gore beneath him. He bent down to prise open his own hands and remove the bloodied knife, which he wiped clean on the now ruined clothes and held casually at his side. Not for a second did Ajax think the man had dropped his guard again.

  “I am insulted if you did not think me wealthy enough to have backups. If you kill the body I currently inhabit a backup is activated, my memories download to the new body as the heart is started and I am reborn, as such; you did not kill me any more than you prevented your own death.”

  The cold dread of certain death sunk over Ajax, freezing his mind in the process; he now knew it had all been for nought, even his last ditch attempt at redemption had failed him. A corpse lay crumpled at his feet, yet the same man stood before him. Blood had already begun to congeal, and the stench of excrement filled the small room. Henry breathed in the same stench that Ajax did, defying his captive by showing just how alive he really was.

  “Raúl, prepare a heavy duty bag; I don't want this scum’s blood ruining my house. I will be ready when you return, myself and Mr Frost here have one last thing to discuss before his death.” said Henry, absently flicking the blade between hands as he eyed up his prisoner.

  Raúl did not hesitate in leaving the room, his rapid footsteps were gone in seconds. Henry moved in closer to Ajax and traced the knife along ribs, the blade tore through flesh with ease and bit down until it scraped bone. He twisted the point and savoured Ajax's contorted face, relishing the man's suffering.

  “Why don't you cry out, Ajax? Show your pain, I won't tell anyone how you broke down and begged me to spare your life. I won't tell anyone, save Ilya, of how you spent your last moments being dissected at my hands.” Henry plunged the blade straight into Ajax's thigh and twisted until it jammed against bone, yet still Ajax held his tongue. “Fucking scream!” yet it was Henry who screamed first, spittle splattered Ajax as the man's face reddened with rage.

  Ajax gritted his teeth against the pain, his face a dark purple from the effort as he tried to block out the knife still wedged deep into his flesh. “I won't give you the pleasure,” said Ajax, grinning at the angered Henry.

  Raúl reappeared, a black sack in his arms. It looked just large enough to fit a body inside, certainly thick enough to not tear under the dead weight. Upon seeing the man return it dawned on Ajax that there was nothing left that might save him, nor Ilya. His mind filled with thoughts of Ilya Frey, he could not save her from the suffering he had caused, and it was his own fault that she would be punished. This tyrant before him would show Ilya no mercy, the woman Ajax loved.

  “Fine, if you won't show your pain then you leave me with little choice.”

  Ajax saw it happen in slow motion, the slightest glint of light that caught the blade as it slashed across his throat. The last ounces of his blood sprayed across Henry's face before the knife slid between ribs, into his one good lung.

  It took him a second to realise where the noise was coming from, a wet rasp that bubbled and a long drawl of a breath, a death rattle. Ajax was drowning, blood filling ruined lungs and starving him of oxygen. His eyes bulged and his body convulsed, watched silently by the grinning Henry. His suffering was unlike any pain he had ever experience, all consuming and terrifying.

  As his life came to an end a calm washed over Ajax, no longer did the pain cloud his mind. He stared back into the eyes of Henry Steel, seeing the tyrannical maniac study his demise. It wasn't long before his body stilled. The light in his eyes faded as Ajax Frost died, chained to a wall like a slab of meat.

  “Take his body to Sector Seven, make sure to reinsert the implant before you leave. I've already taken care of the cover-up, someone will inform his friends shortly afterwards. Do not disappoint me again, Raúl.” Henry said as he wiped his knife on the dead man's jacket. Ajax's killer sat down on the stone floor and laughed, the noise loud and harsh; he was oblivious to the blood that soaked into his clothes.

  With a grunt Raúl dropped the body onto a plastic sheet, causing the hover to rock slowly on the spot. In death Ajax and Henry looked almost peaceful together, something neither could ever manage whilst alive. Raúl turned away, his feet sliding on the slushed snow underfoot. The horrific mutilation and stench left the taste of bile in his mouth and the promise of worse if he lingered.

  A flash of lightning illuminated the dark rain clouds above, followed by an earth-shattering boom of thunder that caused Raúl to jump and snap back into focus. He closed the hovers rear doors and rushed to the pilot’s cabin, finally aware of the sleeting rain that had soaked through his clothing and was turning the ground to ice. Twin engines ignited with a muted roar, the howling wind drowning out all sounds, and the vessel lifted from the paving stones. The mansions gates opened as the hover gained speed and Raúl both heard and felt the vehicle clip the gates in his haste, followed by a second boom of thunder.

  The hover ate up the miles, its sleek shape and powerful engines more than suited to the task. The streets of Four were near deserted this late at night, any vehicles he passed were easily overtaken by a twist of the throttle. Raúl pulled out his tablet, took a deep breath to try and still his pounding heart, and called his boss. On the first ring it connected.

  “Sir, Ajax is dead; I could do nothing to stop it. What do you want me to do?”

  “Where is he now?” the voice was stone cold, not even the slightest hint of emotion. Raúl hated the man for being so cool when all was going to shit. He could feel his heart beating against his ribcage, threatening to escape so great was his terror.

  “I've got his body in the back of a hover, along with one of the mayor's backups. I'm supposed to be disposing of them in Sector Seven.”

  There was a pause, but not for his employer to think, Raúl could hear the clattering of fingers on a console. “Good. I've dispatched Penelope, she'll touch down wherever you stop the hover. Load his corpse into her ship and dispose of that Henry, then report back to him; I still need you in Henry's trust. Ajax might be useful to us yet, even in death.”

  “Understood, sir.” said Raúl, barely keeping the panic out of his voice.

  The call disconnected and he pocketed his tablet once more. Raúl focused on his decent into the slums, the route more treacherous than ever before. Any civilian hover would have to stop for the sector borders, not just to pay a toll but also for population monitoring; not so for government officials. Raúl's hover sent out a signal on his approach to the barriers and it raised automatically, at least there was a perk to this job.

  Raúl could hardly believe his eyes as the scenery whipped past him. He was thankful for the clear highway, allowing him to gun the engines and use the hover to its full potential, but he had not expected all the reports to be true. To a backdrop of gunfire and explosions he was entering a war torn Sector Seven, barely a moment after seeing the demolished skyscraper his charge was responsible for. Up ahead the skyli
ne was ablaze, despite the winter rain and snow, half a sector burning as the conflict escalated.

  His presence had not gone unnoticed, a hail of bullets ricocheted off the armoured hover as the vehicle slid onto an open street, blocked in the middle by a sturdily build makeshift ramparts with several men scurrying around to reach for weapons. It was too late, he was already committed and to turn back would only expose the weaker armour of the hovers rear. He had but one option.

  Raúl pushed down on the controls and relished in the sudden build-up of speed, only spoilt by alarm sirens that pierced his ears and did nothing but point out what he already knew. The hover impacted on the barrier with such force that it did not stop at tearing a hole clean through, Raúl could see the destruction he had caused as the entire barricade crumbled to pieces in the hovers side mirror. He laughed and drove on, passing a group of stunned mercenaries that seized the opportunity to launch an assault, and gone before another shot could be fired.

  It did not take him long to find a suitable resting place for Henry's clone. Raúl stamped on the air brakes and instantly regretted it as the hover went from full throttle to stationary in a tenth of the distant his own hover would pull up in. Next time he would strap himself in with seat restraints, his scalp bled from where he had clashed with the windscreen.

  Raúl was out of the hover and limping as soon as he could suck air into his crushed chest, cursing loud enough to be heard miles away. He pulled at the sheet Henry's backup laid on and narrowly avoided smearing congealed blood on his already soiled clothing. With a wet thump the body crashed to the ground, the skull bouncing once and leaving the cold, dead eyes staring accusingly at Raúl; he shivered.

  Out of his jacket Raúl removed a metallic device similar to that used to inject Ajax with his black market implant several months ago. He scooped out Ajax's implant from inside the steaming cup, ignoring the thick substance that scolded his fingers, and loaded it into the device. Raúl jammed it into the cool flesh of the corpses arm and squeezed the trigger; the deception was almost complete. Raúl pulled the plastic sheet from under the body and stowed it away, then began removing Ajax.

  He could not believe the difference in these two men, whom looked almost equal in height and build. Henry was a struggle to lift into the hover, but Raúl was glad he had started with Ajax. He was convinced the man had bones of iron and had to resort to dragging the mutilated mess backwards up the cellar steps; even then the weight had almost been too much for him. He would be most intrigued to study the man once they had successfully removed his body to the base.

  The rumbling of engines nearing him meant only one thing to Raúl; Ajax's transport had arrived. A ship, not much bigger than his hover, crested over a low building and began to descend. It landed in the street mere feet from his vehicle, the rotors blades pushing enough air downwards to rock the vehicle and leave Raúl cursing his luck. Its ramp was already lowering as the craft touched down and Raúl knew time was of the essence. He started dragging Ajax with what little strength he had left, leaving behind a trail of gore.

  Grunting and swearing Raúl was only slightly embarrassed when the weight eased. He opened his eyes to see Penelope, her cocksure smile worn like an affront to his shrinking masculinity, carrying Ajax's lifeless legs. This time the corpse was lowered gently onto the floor of her craft, laid to rest with the dignity it had been denied for so long.

  “Did he give you any instruction to relay to me?” asked Raúl, one hand clutching his bruised ribs.

  “You already know to return to Henry, your job isn't quite done yet. When you are needed at base He will be in contact. Don't let this maniac get to you, Henry is little more than a dictator who will, no doubt, soon find out he is not invincible. Now get out of here, I've got some ordinance to drop to cover up the switch.”

  Raúl's eyes flared as he realised what was about to happen and he didn’t hesitate to dash back to the hover. He gunned the engine once more and headed for safety, eating up the congested streets as fast as the engine would allow.

  He did not slow down when he heard the sound, as terrible as it was horrifying. A flash of light so strong it blinded him to everything was gone almost as fast as it appeared, leaving a crater where several streets used to be. Ajax Frost was dead and soon his implant would, hopefully intact, be recovered; just not his body.

  Epilogue

  Snow fell sparingly, whipped by the ferocious wind to blind the small troupe, leaving their eyes stinging and forcing out tears that froze to the owners face. Duke forged ahead and ignored the harsh curses he could just make out over the howling storm, the bickering leaving him in a foul mood that was not helped by the nature of their visit. Lev and Greg followed in his wake, both struggled to see further than the hand could reach and continued shouting at one another as snow melted then froze on their faces and in their beards.

  Without any warning Duke almost walked into the tall building, he stopped dead in his tracks when the ominous door finally came into view, inches from his nose. Duke searched around until he found a buzzer set into the wall and pressed it in, all three men huddled up under an archway as they awaited an answer. Greg stamped his feet, trying to stave off the aching pain and sub-zero temperatures; his effort were for naught.

  Duke's grey-black beard was nearly all white when the door finally opened a fraction, behind it a wizened old woman eyed the three men with a sceptical look. In her hands she held a battered clipboard, a single sheet of paper barely visible to Duke clung onto the board as if its life depended upon it.

  “What is the name of your deceased?” her voice sounded just as aged as her, hoarse and dry.

  “Ajax Frost.” came Duke's reply, his voice strained as his body began to shiver.

  The woman checked her paper before she turned back to the freezing trio. “Right this way, gentlemen, hurry up before you join the Vault yourselves.”

  They did not need any encouragement, as she opened the door further and stepped aside the three men almost burst through the doorway. Lev held back to help the caretaker close the large door as Duke and Greg walked deeper into the domed building, relishing the relative warmth their shelter offered with renewed enthusiasm.

  The Vault, final resting place for countless lives, stretched all around them in every direction. Stacks towered above the men, so tall that none could see the peaks from ground level. Duke shook his thick fur jacket, a small snow drift fell to the flagstones underfoot and Greg let out a half laugh devoid of any joy at the sight. Lev ambled into view, the caretaker holding onto his arm for support.

  “Which one of you has his implant?” asked the woman.

  Duke stepped forward and pulled a small box out of his pocket. He offered it to the woman, who took the box without question.

  “What should we call you?” asked Lev as she released his arm.

  “Call me Linda, not that we are likely to start a lifelong friendship. Not many people make a habit of visiting the Vault on a regular basis.” answered Linda, caretaker of the Sector Four Vault. “Follow me, I'm sure we can find a resting place for this man.”

  Linda did not wait for the men, nor did she turn around to check that they followed her. The woman walked along row after row, following the familiar path she had walked for fifty years. Dust obscured the thin nameplates that littered each stack. As they trudged on behind the men struggled to read the grave plate lettering. They followed her in silence; the only noise came from their footsteps quietly echoing out around the cavernous room.

  When the senior woman came to a stop it was in front of an identical tower, seemingly no different to Duke than any around it. From her battered shawl came a small device with several buttons on its face, most worn down from use. Linda stared at the tower for some time before keying in a combination on her remote. When she was finally done lights illuminated all around the four figures.

  “Always best to see what you are doing,” she muttered to herself and turned around to acknowledge the three men. “Would any of
you like to say some words before we bury him?”

  “I'm sure we all would.” said Duke.

  All he got was a short smile that did not extend to the eyes. Duke could tell that Linda had seen a lot in her time, no doubt she would be buried among these towers soon enough. The one they crowded around began to hum, a gentle, pulsing vibration felt underfoot. Greg jumped in shock as the tower began to descend, it sunk into the floor at an alarming rate and was fast disappearing. The stack juddered to a halt almost instantly and a thin tray ejected itself at chest height.

  Linda moved to open the box in her hands and was caught off guard when Duke spoke out.

  “Is it possible for us to choose the tray?” he asked, a slight hint of a plea in Duke's voice.

  “That's entirely against protocol,” she stated. Linda stared at him with yellowed eyes and studied the angst on Duke's face. “Why would you ask that of me?”

  “Ajax meant a lot to all of us, it would only be right that I at least ask that he could have the top tray. Is that possible?”

  Linda stood next to the tower and gripped Duke's hand in her own. She stared into his eyes and blocked out the stunned look on Greg's face. Greg had been briefed on what he would experience in the Vault, yet Duke had not mentioned this at all. There was no preferential burial in a vault, not even for the rich or famous; no doubt there was a fittingly audacious punishment for breaking the establishment’s rules, of which Greg had no inclination to either find out or suffer.