Paradise Forgotten Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  Zodiac bites his lip as he chokes back tears. His father is proud of him?

  "Speaking of my sons, where is my biological son?" Silver asks. "Samuels, you said he was here with you."

  Samuels glances at Zodiac. "Well, your son is-"

  No. This isn't the way he wants to do this. "Zodiac Cunningham is dead."

  "What?" Silver turns to Zodiac.

  "He died during a riot in Pax."

  Samuels grabs Zodiac's arm and drags him over into the corner of the room. "What are you doing?"

  "If Silver doesn't want me in his life, then I won't be. No one cares about Zodiac Cunningham anymore. I'll just be Dax Nero."

  * * *

  Paris races through the halls and down the stairs to the silver doors of the harem. He is greeted by the flute music and sweet perfume hanging in the air. He spots Nyx across the room by the bathing pool. "Nyx! Nyx, come with me." Paris tugs on her arm. "We can leave. We can go with my friends and get out of here."

  "What are you talking about, Paris? Why are you covered in blood?"

  "Doesn't matter. Hector is dead. I killed him. We're free."

  "You killed me, boy?" Hector steps into the room, surrounded by guards in power armor. His wounds are bleeding through the bandages and he is limping with a crutch under one arm, but he's here. "You have been a very bad slave."

  Nyx steps in front of Paris with her arms outspread. "I won't let you touch him!"

  Hector snaps his fingers.

  The guards slam Nyx into the wall then force her to her knees on the slippery floor. "She's all yours, Sire."

  Hector limps over to the bathing pool. He tangles his hand in Nyx's red hair. "You dare to stand in the way of justice?"

  "Justice? How is raping and beating a child justice? You're a monster. You're all monsters!"

  "No. We are the future." Hector forces her head down into the water and holds her there as she thrashes.

  Paris watches in horror as the water splashes violently for a few minutes then calms down to a few lingering bubbles.

  When the bubbles stop and Nyx's body goes limp, Hector pulls her out of the water. She slumps down to the floor lifelessly.

  "Nyx! No!" Paris pulls against the metal-clad hands grasping his arms. "You killed her. You killed her!"

  Hector wipes his hands on his velvet robe then motions towards the door. "Take our little assassin to the billiard room. It's game time."

  * * *

  Paris shivers in the cold air of the billiard room where Hector and four other men are gathered around the pool tables and slot machines. Pool cues hang on the walls along with score cards and dart boards. What is this place? Why is he here?

  Hector kisses Paris's neck then opens a jeweled pocket knife. He slices through Paris's skirt and tosses it to the side. With his rough hands, he grabs at the boy's delicate and fully exposed body. "I will teach you to never cross me, boy. If you think you've been in pain before, you don't know pain yet. Then I'm going to pass you around to each of my guards and let them do whatever they want with you all night long. But for now, we're going to play a game. I hope you like playing darts, Paris. You have a very special role to play. You are the target."

  Paris whimpers as Hector shoves a cloth in his mouth and gags him. He's the target?

  Two men bind Paris's wrists with coarse rope then loop the rope through hooks on the ceiling. They pull the rope taught, leaving Paris balancing on his toes and hanging from the ceiling. One of them laughs as he slaps Paris's backside. "Nice ass on this one. So what are the rules?"

  Hector ties Paris's hair back behind his shoulders. "Five points for arms and legs, ten points for chest and back, and twenty points for groin."

  "Sounds good. When do we call a winner?"

  "When Paris passes out. Then we'll continue after we wake him back up."

  "We're not trying to kill him so avoid the throat. Other than that, everything is fair game." One of the men pours four glasses of whiskey and passes them around to the others.

  Hector hands out handfuls of darts to the men. "The winner gets to have the kid tomorrow."

  "Perfect."

  Paris's muscles tense as he braces himself for the first dart. A sharp pain shoots through his torso above his right hip. As the tears fill his eyes, he glances down to see the dart sticking into his skin. A trail of blood trickles from the wound.

  "Ten points! I'm next. Wanna see the boy squirm? Watch this."

  The pain collides with him like a bolt of lightning spreading over his entire body. For a second, he can't breathe. He grabs the ropes with all of his strength as the worst pain of his life floods through his body and his mind. All he can do is scream through the gag.

  "Twenty points!" Hector claps his hands as he examines the wound in Paris's groin. "Nice shot. He'll be feeling that one for a while."

  "He might not be a he for much longer. This may change him into a woman."

  They all laugh and clink their glasses together.

  * * *

  Silver gathers the last few remaining folders from the file cabinets in the guild hall and slips them into his messenger bag. That should be it. Now to return to Himmel with the agents on the space transport. It will be sad to leave this place behind after so long. It has become a home, a place where he felt included, at peace, and productive. He met friends here. He met those he considers family. Where are they now? Orion and Troy are in Delphi. Paris is . . . Paris is in his own hell.

  Atlas pushes his glasses back up his nose and shuts down the computer. "There. I finished copying over all the files to your flash drive. We're good to go when you are. I have to ask. Are you okay?"

  "Go to the ship with the others. I'll finish up here. I don't feel like talking."

  "Is it about Paris?"

  Silver glares at him. "Go."

  "Yes, sir." Atlas bows before leaving the room.

  "Silver?"

  He turns around to see Mistress in the doorway. "What do you want?"

  Mistress wipes the tears from her eyes on her shirt. "Isidore was able to hack into some of Hector's palace security cameras."

  "It's bad, isn't it? You never get this bothered by things."

  "I've never seen someone treat a person like this before. I've tortured and interrogated countless people, but this is beyond any torture I could ever devise. It makes me sick. I actually threw up when I saw it. I can't watch it anymore."

  A deep flowing sense of dread fills his chest. "Don't tell me it's Paris."

  "Yes. Hector and his men are hurting him."

  "I don't want to see it. If it's that bad, I don't want to see it."

  "They're using Paris as a living dart board."

  Silver slams his combat knife into the metal file cabinet so hard that the blade snaps in half. "I'm going to kill every one of those bastards. How does God allow that kind of evil to exist? A dart board? Hell, that's awful. I have to stop this. I don't care if I get killed. I can't let this abuse continue."

  "There's nothing we can do now. Kyro is completely locked down. Not even merchants are getting in. It seems that Hector isn't going to risk Paris trying to escape again."

  "I should have gone with Donnie and Dax. I should have been there."

  Mistress moves closer behind him and kisses his shoulders. "You had your own mission to complete. You did well."

  He pushes her away. "No. If I was in Kyro with them, I could have stopped Paris from going back to get that android girl. He would have listened to me. I'm strong enough to hold him down no matter what he tries to do. I could have saved him."

  "It's not your fault, Silver."

  Silver removes his flash drive from the computer and slips it into his pocket. "I've been a horrible father to all of my children. Nova is captured. Zodiac is dead. Now Paris is being tortured by those evil men. How can I help my children? I hate feeling helpless. They needed me, but I failed them. I've always been a failure. I couldn't save my husband. He died in my arms because I couldn't find a way to save him
. Now I'm forced to watch my children die around me as I sit here. How can I call myself a father if I don't do every single thing I can to try to save them? My life doesn't matter. Their lives are what matter. For years, I thought that by staying away and letting them live their lives without me being there adding risk to their lives, that they would grow up to know peace and harmony in their world. But now I see that me being gone only hurt them more. I guess that's why I tried to keep Paris around me all the time. I didn't want to lose him. I needed Paris more than he needed me. I had to know that someone depended on me. I was always the one who provided the food and money for Jayce when we were married. I enjoyed being the provider. It made me feel like I had a purpose. Jayce would come with me on missions, but I was the one who secured the jobs and was constantly looking for new ways to make money. I didn't want him to have to worry. I wanted him to take care of our shipping crate house and make those paper tulips he loved so much to decorate our dark alley. Without Jayce, my life would have been empty and filled with hatred. And what have I done to pass that gift on to my children? Nothing."

  "It's not too late. While you can't do much directly right now, you can dedicate your time and energy to the greater plan that will result in you getting Nova and Paris back. If you want to help your children, help us get Troy on the throne. Everything will work itself out in the end. We need you, Silver. Everyone needs you. Don't let us down. Save your children."

  "Okay. I'll do whatever I need to do in order to get this plan going. I'm not doing this for Troy or for Olympus. I'm doing this for Paris and Nova."

  * * *

  Paris's screams fade to groans and whimpers as the night drags on. Dart after dart pierce his skin, penetrating him painfully without stopping. The blood has streamed down his body and pooled under his feet in a sticky mess. It has become difficult to breathe. Forty darts are now sticking out of his body and the men continue with their brutal torturous game. The time between darts is the worst. He doesn't know where the next one will land, only that there will inevitably be another one. The only saving grace is the alcohol. The more they drink, the worse their aim gets.

  When the darts begin missing and hitting the wall behind Paris, the drunken men stumble out of the room, leaving him bleeding and hanging from the ceiling. Paris's arms ache and his hands have gone numb from the ropes cutting off circulation. Even the light from the lamps on the tables makes the throbbing headache behind his eyes worse. The wounds from the darts continue to bleed, draining him of energy and making him unbearably dizzy. If he had eaten anything recently, he would have vomited. He hasn't been fed in a week. Weakness takes over his body and his mind as he grows tired. Paris can feel his heartbeat growing slow. Is he dying? The darts are still embedded in his body, each one delivering excruciating pain. Are they coming back or will they leave him here to die?

  "Paris."

  Paris opens his eyes to see the angel with the white wings standing in front of him. Uriel.

  "How are you feeling?" Uriel asks as he removes the gag from Paris's mouth. "Damn. They got you pretty good, didn't they?"

  Paris's voice is airy and hoarse as he whispers. "Help . . . me."

  "Help you? Why should I help you? You fought back the last time I tried to help you."

  "Please."

  "Poor kid." Uriel circles around him, studying the wounds in his body. "How does it feel to be a pin cushion? I wonder if you've learned your lesson yet or if I should leave you here for the next round of the game. Those men will be coming back soon after they wake up from their drunken stupor. You deserved this punishment for being such a stubborn child."

  "Please . . . I'm sorry." Paris begs. "Help me . . . Uriel. I'm dying."

  "It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it? To feel the life slowly fading, draining from your body? Savor that."

  "No. Don't . . . leave . . . me."

  "Tell you what." Uriel takes Paris's chin in his hand and lifts his face to look at him. "I will save your life from these heathens on one condition."

  "I'll do . . . anything."

  "Anything? That's just what I want to hear. If I save you and take you away from this place, you have to devote your entire life to serving me. You will do what I want and never question me. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Uriel begins pulling the razor sharp darts from Paris's quivering body. "You will sign a contract in blood, giving yourself to me completely. Will you sign it and make me your eternal master?"

  Paris closes his eyes as he gives in to the overwhelming desperation. "Yes, Master."

  17

  "Hello there." Clara Lifestone waves at Silver. Her grey hair is pinned to the top of her head and her pale green eyes glitter in the streetlights around the Himmel council building. "Fratrum, Historiam, Opes. We are here to join with you and Cleopatra. The Eremos Excavation Guild will be born anew for the purpose of uniting the galaxy. Humans, Nymphs, and androids will be one in leading our galaxy into a brighter future where dictators and despots no longer dominate the weak and oppressed. Long live Troy, our rightful king. Long live the Phoenix King."

  The pudgy Nymph with the bright blue mohawk places his hand over his heart. "I am Dion Lifestone. My father and Hector must be stopped. They have harmed far too many people. I will dedicate my life to this cause."

  The blonde woman in the tight black pencil skirt adjusts her glasses. "And I am Chancellor Hildegarde Annette Morgenstern-Samuels. Chancellor Samuels of Himmel is my husband. Call me Annette, sweetheart. This madness has gone on for long enough. It's time to take our galaxy back."

  Silver stares at the three of them. Are they all working together? While this is certainly unexpected, they need all the help they can get. They are powerful allies. Clara Lifestone is the wife of Blice McSage, Evans's son. She has intimate connections to Evans himself. Dion has been posing as an oracle guard and worked with Uriel. Annette is more dangerous than she looks. She has been around this for a long time and she's seen everything.

  "So, can we come in?" Clara asks. She holds up a microchip. "We brought a friend as well."

  "A friend?"

  "One of my spies managed to steal this from Daedalus's lab when he was away. Can I use a computer?"

  More of these microchips, huh? When will people be just people? "Uh . . . I guess. What is that thing?"

  "Isidore Williams."

  "Oh." He steps out of the way. "Come on inside. We're still optimizing the space for our purposes, but this building is big enough for bedrooms, a conference room, a kitchen, and a computer room to house our data."

  Annette looks around. "Amazing. It's perfect. A little renovation never hurt anything anyway, right? Sometimes old things need to be destroyed so new ones have a chance to shine." She pats Silver's arm. "You know what that's like, don't you?"

  "Um, no."

  "You will. Just be sure to attend the meeting."

  What was that about? Did Silver just get threatened by a woman? Whatever. He will deal with her later. He leads them to the computer and watches as all three of them whisper to each other as they attach cables and wires to a small pale green computer tower. Silver has never understood this kind of technology. What was it called? Artificial intelligence? Crazy. The only intelligence he wants to be involved with is actual natural intelligence. Never mind that Jayce was an android. That was different. How? He's not exactly sure, but it was. Jayce was a person, a living, breathing, thinking person. Sure, he was developed in a tube in some laboratory with modified DNA, but he was a person. This is just a computer with some stored memories. They're different. For his own sanity, he has to keep them separated in his mind.

  Clara steps away from the desk. "Isidore is awake. He wants to talk to you, Silver. Apparently he has some news you will want to hear. It's about Paris."

  "Thank you." He waits until they leave the room before he approaches the computer. This is so weird. "Hello, Isidore."

  "Hello, Jarred." Isidore says.

  "It's . . . it's just Silver no
w."

  "Ah, yes. I forgot. It is good to be back on the side of the good guys."

  "I'm glad to have you with us." Silver says. "You will be a valuable asset, I'm sure."

  "We haven't had a chance to talk one on one since my death. No one told me what happened to Jayce."

  "Oh."

  "If it's too painful, I understand. You don't have to tell me."

  There's no point in keeping it a secret from him. That part of Silver's memories is numb to him now. Whether it's out of necessity or that it's simply easier to forget after so long, he's not sure. "Jayce died when Katarina activated the failsafe. Your daughter was a hero. She saved everyone from a robot army invasion. Jayce was just an innocent man who got caught up in all of Clark's bullshit. Because of that microchip in his brain, he died as well. He didn't remember who I was until the very end when he took his dying breath in my arms."

  Isidore sounds as though he is feeling actual emotions. "I'm so sorry, Silver."

  "I was pretty bad off after that. I was dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder and depression. It was awful. I was a complete mess. I couldn't even work. Nova and Zodiac were suffering and starving because I couldn't provide for them. I tried. I honestly did try, but my mind was so screwed up that I couldn't think clearly. I know I let them down. I let Jayce down."

  "Well, it's good to see you doing better now."

  Silver's hand absentmindedly reaches into his pocket where the tiny white pills are. "With medication, I've been able to keep it under control for the most part."

  "We will be needing you to fight on the front lines in what will be some of the most intense fighting you've seen. How will you be able to hold up through that?"

  "I'm scared. I don't want to lose control again. I don't want to feel helpless. I don't want to feel damaged."

  "PTSD doesn't make you any less of a man." Isidore says. "You are unbelievably strong to go through what you've been through and to still have your mental stability. You are not damaged, Silver."

  "Then why do I feel that way?" Silver rubs his eyes as he tries to clear his mind. "Clara said you wanted to talk to me about Paris?"