Paradise Forgotten Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  "Silver, Paris is gone."

  What? "Oh God, no. No! He can't be dead."

  "Sorry. When I said gone, I meant missing."

  Stupid computer. "That's almost as bad. Where did you see him last?"

  "On the security footage from Hector's billiard room. Paris was still hanging there by his wrists and bleeding with the darts stuck into him."

  That's enough. "Just stop, Isidore. I don't need details like that. I can't hear that right now."

  "Sorry. At two this morning, the footage cuts out. It goes black and there's too much static to hear much. I was able to run the audio through the enhancer and it came back with someone's voice on it. It's still too distorted to get much from it. All I know is that someone was in the room and talking to Paris. Then when the footage comes back online, he's gone."

  "So did someone take him?" Silver asks.

  "Hector and his men don't know where he is either. He vanished."

  "Is there any way we can know if Paris is alive? That kind of abuse could have hurt him beyond repair. I have to know if he's still going to be my little boy when I get him back."

  "I can't make any promises."

  Silver crosses his arms and watches the blinking lights on Isidore's case. "Can you tell me anything?"

  "I can tell you this. I was able to find a personality test that Paris had taken last year. Cleopatra made him take it just to see what kind of jobs he would be good for in the future. It is very comprehensive and has been developed for the past three hundred years by the top psychologists and psychiatrists in their fields. I then compared his test results to the events he has lived through in the past couple of months as well as those from when he was younger. I hate to tell you this, but there is a very real possibility that Paris will never be the same after this. He is very impressionable and even though he pretends that he's not hurting, inside he is filled with more trauma and emotional damage than anyone I've ever analyzed before. In the wrong hands, Paris can be completely controlled and manipulated. He will transform to the will of his captor. He will forget who he is because his sense of identity is based on those in authority over him. He has the innate need to please people. He is a chameleon. That submissiveness is what will harm him in the long run."

  "So him being a sweet kid who cares about others is a bad thing?" Silver asks.

  "It is when it gets to the point that he's willing to sacrifice his safety and health just to do what others want of him. I have secretly been watching Paris during his captivity at Hector's palace over the past week. The first night he spent with Hector, he was on his knees begging for Hector to tell him what to do. He wanted to know what to do in order to make him happy. Paris wanted to give Hector whatever he wanted so the abuse would go away. That only made the abuse worse."

  "What else did you see? I need to know all of it. If I don't know everything, I can't help him recover."

  "If you wish. Though, I don't feel comfortable relaying this sensitive information to you as if it was a string of numbers. Why don't you ask me questions and I will answer them?"

  "Fine. Did Hector rape him?" Silver asks.

  "Yes."

  He honestly expected this. "More than once?"

  "Multiple times, every day he was there."

  "I see. Was he at least fed and taken care of?"

  "I'm afraid he wasn't." Isidore says. "He didn't get any food for the week he was there. One time Hector let him lick his plate that he put on the floor after he had eaten everything."

  "Did he have a panic attack? Did he have more nightmares?"

  "He did, especially the first couple of nights. However, Hector would tie him to the bed and beat him with a whip that had razor blades in the ends until he stopped screaming. Paris was just begging for Hector to hold him and comfort him. That's all he wanted."

  Silver grits his teeth and turns his back to the computer. No one can see him cry. He can't control his emotions anymore. The thought of Paris being hurt like that with no one to comfort him tears him apart. It eats him down to his soul and rips him into pieces. Every part of his soul is screaming in agony, begging, and pleading for Silver to take action. He has to do something. He has to go after him.

  Mistress enters the room and places a box of files on the far table against the wall. "This is the last box from the guildhall. I hope we got them all because the place will be destroyed in five minutes. We can't take any chances with that place. If Uriel gets his hands on any of that stuff down there, we will be in big trouble." She wipes the sweat from her forehead and smiles at Silver. "Hey, you're quiet."

  Silver doesn't answer her.

  "Silver? What's wrong? What have you two been talking about? Isidore, what did you say to him?"

  "I told him about Paris's personality test results then I let him know some of the abuse Paris has been going through."

  Mistress sighs and goes to Silver. She reaches out her arms to embrace him, but he pulls away. "Silver, please don't be like this. I understand you are upset, but we need you. You can't shut down again. You're worse than a robot about that. Don't disconnect from reality again like you did before. Stay with us."

  "He is attempting to cope with overwhelming emotional stress." Isidore says.

  "Yes, I know. That's the problem. We are having a meeting in the main room in two minutes. I need both of you to be there. You are under my orders to attend the meeting, Silver. We will discuss everything. Isidore, are you connected to the wireless internet?"

  "Yes. I'm good to go."

  Mistress disconnects the internet cable and picks up the palm-sized computer tower and the speakers. "Let's go. Silver, you are to follow me to the meeting. I'm not leaving until you join me."

  Silver follows silently and reluctantly into the hallway.

  "Don't do anything stupid." Mistress says. "What is it that you always used to tell Paris? Just because it sounds like a good idea to you, it doesn't mean it's a good idea to everyone else. We need you here. You are a fighter, Silver. You're strong. We will be relying on that strength so much more now that things are falling apart. Whether they want to admit it or not, you are our rock, our solid foundation. We were nothing before you came to the guild and turned everything around. I owe you more than I can ever repay. However, that doesn't mean your job is done. Your combat skills are incredible. If we come to blows with Evans's military or with Uriel and those archon robots he's creating in Paradise, you will be the keystone that holds all of us together. We will need you to teach the others about combat tactics and weapons. We will begin training soon. If you run off alone to recklessly search for Paris, we will be left with no defenses. Staying here and working with us is the best way to rescue Paris. We won't stop searching. We will follow every lead that comes to us. I know how you feel."

  "No, you don't." Silver glares at her. "You have no idea."

  "Fine. Maybe I don't, but that doesn't mean I can't feel empathy for you." Mistress pushes open the wooden doors to the conference room where everyone else is already gathered. She takes her place at the head of the long rectangular table where she places Isidore then she pours herself a cup of coffee.

  Silver takes a seat in the only open spot next to the door. Probably for security reasons. If someone tries to break in here, they'll have to go through him first. Typical. That's the only thing people want him for anymore. He's not simply a guard or some brute to throw at problems. Yes, he's the one with the combat training who has been killing people for thirty years. Yes, he's the one who can kill a man with his bare hands in a heartbeat. Does that mean that's all he's good for? Would they even want him around if he didn't have these skills?

  "Silver? Are you going to answer Dion's question?"

  Silver looks around at everyone who is staring at him, waiting for his response. "Sorry. I didn't hear the question."

  Mistress sighs. "Repeat your question, Dion."

  "I wanted to know if you will teach us how to shoot. You're the best, right?"

  "He's legendary."
Clara says. "I saw him in action down in Paradise a few times."

  "I thought he had an . . . issue." Atlas says plainly.

  Mistress looks between them. "What issue?"

  "Shaky hands."

  "What are you talking about? Silver, what is he talking about?"

  Silver looks down at his hands in his lap. "When I get upset or overly stressed, my hands shake too much to shoot."

  "Let's see your hands right now. Hold them up."

  Mistress waves her hand dismissively. "You don't have to do that, Silver. Don't listen to him. I know you're more than capable."

  Silver holds up his trembling hands. "There. Now you know, okay?"

  "If we can't use him as a guard or a fighter, then what do we need him for?" Atlas asks. "He's useless."

  "Don't say that. What is wrong with you today?"

  "I'm looking at this from a rational and educated point of view. I'm just saying that we have another person who is better suited for this. Dax Nero here is a perfect shot with a bow. Can't we hone those skills? With a bit of practice, shouldn't he be able to shoot like that with a gun? I don't want to risk my life or the lives of other people. Putting a sniper rifle or any other kind of firearm in those shaky hands is a friendly fire hazard. Silver is nothing but a liability."

  Dax Nero leans back in his chair and places his combat boots on the table. "I'm just as accurate with a rifle. Do we need two combat specialists? Get rid of Silver. Use him as a part time contractor for riot control or as a security guard. That's all he's good for."

  Chancellor Samuels whispers to his wife next to him then sets his coffee cup down. "He has a point."

  Mistress looks angry. "You too?"

  "Yes, me too." Samuels stands and fixes his tie. "Listen. I've known Silver for close to twenty years. I've seen how he handles himself in combat. He's talented. I'll give him that. Some might even go so far as to call him an expert. The problem I have with him is how he deals with stress. I saw him forget important things, take unnecessary risks, and fail to evaluate the situation before taking action. If Silver isn't going to be able to perform under pressure, then we have no use for him. I say we put it to a vote. We can't have any dead weight around here."

  Mistress crosses her arms on her chest and shakes her head. "While I don't agree with you, we have rules and structure for a reason. We'll take a vote. Silver, please turn around while we vote."

  Silver spins around in his chair to face the wall. Are they actually doing this? He was a part of this operation before most of them even knew the guild existed. There's no doubt he's still the best shot on Himmel. Hell, he's probably the best in the galaxy. There has only been one man he's ever met who could outshoot him. That was Jayce. And what was that about being a friendly fire hazard? Samuels was joking, right? Silver has never shot an ally.

  "Silver, we have the results of our vote."

  He spins back around to face them all. None of them look him in the eyes. They all sit with their heads down and staring at the table.

  Mistress is obviously tearing up. "Silver Cunningham, the council has decided with a vote of six to two that you are no longer a member of the Eremos Excavation Guild. We have no need for your services. Please gather your belongings and leave the premises. Dax Nero will escort you out."

  They're actually doing this. "Can I say something?"

  "Go ahead."

  Silver slams his fists into the table. "I don't know what I've done to piss you people off. This is bullshit! Samuels is feeding you lies. I have never been so shaken up I couldn't complete a mission. I hate all of you. Go to hell. Oh, and one more thing. If I were you, I would sleep with my door locked. Don't fuck with Silver Cunningham."

  "You're completely out of line." Samuels says. "Calm down or we will be forced to apprehend you."

  Silver throws his combat knife at Samuels and it sticks in the whiteboard behind him, cracking it in half. "Come at me. I'll show you just how deadly my shaky hands can be."

  "That's enough." Dax lunges at him and secures his wrists in handcuffs. "Let's go, Silver."

  Ridiculous. This entire sham is ridiculous. He'll let them parade around like the saviors of the Milky Way. Go ahead. In the end, they'll come crawling back to him begging for his help. Idiots.

  Dax leads him down the hall to his room. "Your temper isn't helping your cause, you know?"

  "And what could you possibly know about tempers, boy?"

  "Don't call me boy." He opens the door and unlocks Silver's handcuffs. "Get your things. You have two minutes. And don't try anything. I'm deadly."

  Deadly? Of course. He is his son. "Zodiac."

  Dax freezes in the middle of the room.

  "I thought so."

  "How did you know it was me?" Dax asks.

  "My combat abilities aren't only about shooting and stabbing. I have to be able to quickly identify targets and observe every tiny thing about a battlefield to better exploit the natural environment. I knew it was you from the moment you entered Samuel's office the other day. I decided to play along just to see what you would say. Did you expect me to not be able to sense my own flesh and blood? You look just like Jayce. Zodiac-"

  "It's Dax. I'm still undercover from my Kyro mission."

  "Oh?"

  "Using my real name is too risky. Until Evans and Hector are dead, I have to go by Dax Nero and only Dax Nero. Get your things. You have one minute left."

  Silver shoves his clothes into a backpack. "What's the real reason you voted against me? Was it actually because you think I prove too much of a liability to the cause? Or was it because you simply hate me?"

  Dax's fists tighten. "I told you ten years ago. I said if you left, I would hate you forever."

  "A man of your word, huh? Or are you a man blinded by selfishness?"

  "No. I'm merely a man blinded by the insatiable hunger for revenge."

  18

  Orion wraps his turban back around his braided hair and spits out sand. "Three days. Gods, I hate everything about life."

  "Shut up. Your constant complaining isn't helping."

  "At least I'm not the one who's red."

  Troy holds out his arms and frowns. "What?"

  "That turban isn't saving the rest of your pale skin from this desert sun."

  "What about you? Why are you so tan and not burning?"

  "Silver and I would lie on the sand outside naked three times a week while we got drunk. That way, we became used to the sun and the heat."

  That's an amusing mental picture. "Naked?"

  "Yep. It was awkward at first, back when Silver had a crush on me. But after that, it was cool."

  "He had a crush on you?"

  "The poor guy hasn't been with anyone since his husband died. That was almost twenty years ago. Can you imagine going twenty years without sex? I start going crazy after a few days."

  Troy takes a few steps away from him. "I'm not into men so take care of whatever you need to take care of far away from me."

  "Already did." Orion grins.

  "Gross."

  "I'm joking. Calm down. You're so uptight. We're both men here."

  "I don't know what kind of men you've been around, but I've never talked to another man about those things. I don't plan on starting now."

  "Relax." Orion says as he wipes the beads of sweat from his forehead. "If I've learned anything from Silver, it's to not take things so seriously. Lighten up."

  "Says the man who has been moping around this entire time."

  "You'd better stop talking to me like that, slave. That ring in your nose still marks you as my property."

  "Are you serious?" Troy asks.

  "Dead serious. You're still mine so start acting like it. I don't know much about the culture of these nomadic Nymphs out here, but I want them to know who the master is."

  "So much for being friends."

  "We can still be friends. You just have to know your place as a submissive slave."

  Does Orion not understand? "Being a s
lave like me for a week in Kyro didn't teach you a thing, did it?"

  "I was just fine being equals from now on until you started mocking me and acting all uppity again. I figured I could use my authority as your owner to knock you down a few notches."

  "Look over there."

  Orion holds up his hand to block out the setting sun as he squints. "What do you suppose that is?"

  Troy checks the compass again. "I think we're here. This is Delphi."

  They walk past wooden spears sticking out of the ground that have multicolored quartz crystals hanging from them. Rows of simple white tents line the reed-filled banks of the sparkling pale blue river. Black cranes wade in the shallow, slow-flowing water, eating tiny silver fish that jump out of the current. Naked young nomadic Nymph children run in the fields as they kick around a ball of rope in the flat area of sand near the green field of crops.

  Orion groans and rubs his eyes. "If I have to see your naked ass for the next five years, I might just go drown myself in that river and get it over with."

  "It's just the children, it seems. See there? That woman is wearing some kind of light leather. You're so paranoid." Troy bows to her as she approaches. "Hello. We are Nymphs who were sent here to live with your people. We need to hide for a while from some evil men who are trying to kill us."

  "Ave, strangers. Te are de Athens?"

  Troy looks at Orion. "What did she just ask?"

  "It sounds like a weird mix-up of languages. See if you can get her to say something else."

  "Who is your leader?" Troy asks.

  The Nymph woman holds her spear dangerously close to Troy's throat. "Te are diabolos o friends?"

  He puts his hands in the air. "Oh. Friends. We are friends. We just need to speak with your leader, please."

  "Non. Es not okay. Te cannot meet con Chief Seri before noctis. He es busy con the otras. Do te ehete weapons?"

  Weapons? "We don't have any weapons, no. We come in peace."

  "Pax?"

  "Yes! Peace. Pax. We are peaceful."

  Orion leans close and whispers to him. "This is weird. I can't understand anything she's saying."