by J. L. Lyon
Scanning the thinning crowd, 301 caught a glimpse of the boy as his small form passed underneath the table closest to where the woman stood. His heart beat faster. What could he do? There was no way he could stop the boy if he was determined to save her.
His decision to do nothing held for only a moment. If it was within his power to prevent the impending disaster, he had to act. He sighed in resignation, and headed straight for her. As he drew closer and the words of the Specters became clearer, his anger boiled into a raging fury. And then that rage took the form of a single word, “Attention!”
Silence fell over the Specters and their backs went rigid, hands shooting upward in instinctive salutes. Even the Ruling Council and the MWR paused to watch the scene unfold. 301 spoke again, “I think the four of you have spent enough time here for now. Obviously this woman is not a part of the MWR’s offer, so you would do better to expend your energies on another. Dismissed!”
The rigid backs slumped with disappointment. “Understood, sir,” Dodson said, giving the woman one last look. “But you can hardly blame us for trying.” They left 301 alone with the woman, but she would no more acknowledge him than she had the others. The ropes binding her hands had been tied to a post in the center of the platform, tethering her in place, and she pulled it taut as though she might splinter it and take her chance at freedom. He admired her beauty, there was no question, but he pitied her fate.
“Like what you see, Specter Captain?” 301 jumped as the MWR came alongside him.
Realizing that he had perhaps overstepped his bounds, 301 explained, “Forgive me, sir. I merely thought—”
Alexander held up a hand to silence him, “No apology is necessary. You are imbued with the authority of my office, Specter Captain. I will give you power beyond your wildest dreams, the breadth of which even the Ruling Council does not enjoy. Mark my words: you will be known far and wide in my World System, feared by foe and revered by all who serve beneath you. All who oppose you shall be destroyed. This I promise you. And as a seal to that promise, I offer you this.” The MWR turned and shouted. “Grand Admiral! It is time!”
Grand Admiral Donalson and the Chief Advisors stepped forward from their table and stood before the MWR and 301, who for the life of him could not so much as guess what Alexander had up his sleeve. Then the grand admiral announced for all within earshot, “Yesterday, Chief Advisors, we all witnessed a spectacle that I don’t think any of us expected. We watched a man, for all we knew expendable, walk into the jaws of death with a fate that seemed certain. But then we saw that fate defied, and along with it, the MWR and I lost our little wager. But to show both you and the System’s new champion that we hold no hard feelings on the matter, we present to Specter Captain 301-14-A a gift of highest honor.” Donalson turned to 301 with a forced smile. “We give to you, Specter Captain, the slave Two-Five-Seven Thirty-Z. She is yours to take and enjoy as you will.” Donalson motioned to the guards, “Mark her.”
One of the men ascended the platform and pulled out a cylindrical device. The slave woman showed her first sign of emotion as she beheld the object, watching fearfully as he pressed several buttons on the side. 301 wanted to help her, to reach up and stop the guard, but he was too stunned to do anything.
The guard stepped forward and grabbed the woman’s right arm. She struggled and tried to pull away, but he held her tight. Then he raised the silver cylinder parallel to her forearm and pressed the large button on its end. A red wave of heat shot into her arm, and she cried out in pain. Then the guard displayed his work for them all to see. He had branded her with the designation of her master, which she would wear for the remainder of her life.
301-14-A.
The guard released her arm and she fell to her knees, cradling her injured arm with the other. The disgusting display made 301 want to vomit, especially now that he had been forced into the middle of it. She lost her freedom today, but not to some old man. To me. I took it from her. 301’s displeasure did not pass the MWR’s notice.
“Are you unhappy with this gift, Specter Captain?”
“Of course not, sir,” 301 replied. “You honor me beyond what I deserve. I only wish there was something I could do to repay you.”
“A lifetime of service to the World System is all the payment I shall expect,” Alexander smiled. “Come, gentlemen. Let’s allow the Specter Captain and his new servant time to get…acquainted. I, for one, did not throw this party to entirely miss out. Enjoy yourself tonight, my boy.” He nodded once more at 301, and led the others away toward the bright light of the games.
For a few moments 301 stood frozen by his uncertainty. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t refuse the gift, but could he really steal this woman’s life away? Realizing that because of the ropes binding her she would not be able to come down to him, 301 made for the stairs and ascended the platform. He cast a quick look over the courtyard to make sure no one else was watching; for all he could tell, interest in the slave girl had passed.
Tense with both pain and fear, she did not look up as 301 approached. He supposed now was the moment any normal master would have forced her to rise and obey his every word. He searched for her face, but her long dark hair hid it from sight. If only she would look up at him, she would understand: he was just as terrified as she was.
Not knowing what else could be done, 301 knelt before her and reached out softly for her chin. Gently, he tilted her head up to face him. She resisted at first, but eventually her strength wavered. Then, after he managed to get her face even with his own, she continued to resist by averting her gaze.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, 301 thought. Deep sorrow shone from her blue-green eyes, twin oceans set over high cheekbones still wet with fresh tears of pain. A terrible bruise shaped like the handle of a sidearm decorated her left cheek. She had obviously had a difficult day.
Her bottom lip quivered as she lifted her gaze to the insignia patch on his chest that read 301-14-A, the royalty badge, and the captain’s pin on his collar. Then her eyes shifted again, and at last looked into his.
His breath caught in his chest as a fire seemed to leap from his stomach and spread to the rest of his body, increasing his heart rate to a frantic throb and opening a void in his core that he never knew existed. He suddenly felt very dark and evil, as though the strange light that lay within those blue-green eyes had exposed the inner workings of his soul. For the first time in his life his accomplishments and accolades were as nothing, and all he felt was shame. His hands were stained with the blood of countless victims, his heart tainted by evils that could not be undone.
What is happening to me? He was no stranger to beautiful women, not by a long shot. But there was something different about this one, something extraordinary—though at the same time, terrifying. Her beauty seemed to extend beyond her outward form into something…deeper. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
The woman stared back at him, also in stunned silence, and he saw in her eyes an emotion he certainly didn’t expect: hope.
“What is your name?” he asked.
She hesitated, obviously not sure whether to trust him. The mark on her arm bound her to him by law, but laws have no power over the heart. After a moment of silence she seemed to resign herself to the reality of the situation and replied, “My name is Grace. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For caring enough to ask.”
16
LIZ PAUSED HALFWAY down the palace’s entrance hall, suddenly certain that her words to 301 had been a bit rash. She understood his reasoning, after all, and the pressure of being Specter Captain surely demanded that she cut him a bit of slack. She sighed in frustration and turned to go apologize.
But before she took a single step, she came face to face with the last person she wanted to see: Derek Blaine.
“Liz,” he said with a shrewd smile.
“My friends call me Liz,” she bit back. “So you can call
me Specter Aurora. What do you want, Blaine?”
“The admiral said we should get to know each other,” he replied. “So here I am…getting to know you.”
She smirked, “Nice try, but I’m not interested. If you’ll excuse me.” She tried to go around him, but Blaine moved to block her path.
“Going back out to the courtyard to see the Specter Captain?” he asked. “What’s going on between you two anyway? Trying to add a little office romance to your resume? Can’t say I blame you…at least then it would reflect something interesting.”
“Are you trying to provoke me?” Liz retorted, crossing her arms beneath her chest, “Or do you just enjoy being an insufferable menace?”
“Careful, Aurora,” Blaine warned. “You don’t want to make an enemy of me.”
Liz opened her mouth to reply again, but at that moment the palace doors opened and she saw 301 enter, accompanied by a woman. She grabbed Blaine by the shoulders and pulled him into the adjacent hallway, slamming him through an open door and walking in after him so that both were out of sight.
“What the—”
“Shh!” she gave Blaine a severe look of warning, then watched from their place of concealment as 301 and his companion walked by. Her eyes narrowed in their direction, taking in the white dress of the woman at his side and realizing that she was none other than the slave that was to be given as a gift from the MWR. Just before they passed out of her vision, she caught sight of the woman’s forearm and the fresh red brand burned into it.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered.
Blaine, whom she still held against the wall, grinned, “Is this how you let a guy know you’re not interested?”
Her lips were thin as she turned her attention back to him, “I hope you enjoyed it, Blaine, because this is as much action as you’re going to get from me.” She let him go and stalked away angrily.
Blaine laughed, “Should I warn the captain to watch his back for a woman scorned?”
She made an obscene gesture over her shoulder and disappeared around the corner.
-X-
Once they were in the elevator, 301 drew his knife to cut the ropes from Grace’s wrists, noticing with a pang of regret that they had rubbed her skin raw to the point of drawing blood. He shook his head as he sheathed the knife, then stowed the ropes on his weapons belt. As the doors closed and they were at last alone, he whispered, “Because I know it is on your mind I will set you at ease. You have nothing to fear from me. I have no intention of taking anything from you by force.”
Grace nodded but remained silent, hugging her own body in an attempt to keep warm. 301 ventured a lighthearted laugh, “They didn’t exactly dress you for the weather, did they?”
The corners of her mouth turned upward in a barely noticeable smile that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. The magnitude of the change in her life overwhelmed her anew every few minutes, reminding her she was totally vulnerable and unprepared for what lay ahead. As this man’s slave, how was she supposed to act? Was she to play to his every whim? Or was she to be honest, remaining true to her soul though by law he owned her body?
He said he would not take anything from her by force, and the meaning of that was clear. But could she trust that? Weren’t all System soldiers taught to take what they wanted however they could get it?
Then again, the way he had looked at her in the courtyard—with eyes that bore no trace of greed or lust, but radiated wonder, compassion, and protectiveness—he didn’t seem like a System soldier at all. In fact, there was something very familiar about those eyes, though she couldn’t quite place it.
The elevator doors opened and the two of them stepped out. 301 touched the small of her back and gently led her down the red-carpeted hallway to his suite. The door slid open at his bidding, and the lights came on automatically as they entered.
A bundle of clothes and a small chest that had not been there before sat on the same dresser where his Specter uniform had been earlier that morning. The clothes were undoubtedly meant for a woman, and looked very expensive. A short note lay on top of the bundle: Because even a slave of royalty must look a queen to the common man. –N.A., MWR.
301 removed the note and hid it in the drawer before turning to Grace with the top bundle of clothes, “These are for you. The bathroom is over there if you’d like to change. Or, if you’d like to take a shower, even—”
Grace shot him a look of incredulity, immediately suspicious.
But 301 didn’t take offense. He stepped away from her and motioned to the bathroom, “There should be a towel inside, along with any shampoo or soap you need. The door locks from the inside.”
She stared at him in bewilderment for a moment, then finally stepped past him and walked into the bathroom. Her eyes lingered on him as she turned to shut the door, leaving her face visible long enough for him to see the beginnings of a smile. The door clicked as she locked it, and a few seconds later he heard the sound of the water running.
He gave a long sigh, trying to let the cares of the day roll off him so he could relax. So much had changed in a short period of time, and it was a struggle to keep up.
The small chest on the dresser suddenly caught his eye, and he realized it must contain Grace’s possessions—which technically, he supposed, were now his. Curiosity got the best of him, and he picked up the key that lay in front of the chest, inserted it into the lock, and turned it. The lid popped slightly open as the latches were released, and he reached forward to lift it the rest of the way.
“You shouldn’t do that.”
301 whirled around to face the voice only to see—of all people—the boy from the courtyard.
“You!” he yelled with a spike of incredulity. Caught up in the moment of being given Grace, 301 had completely forgotten the reason why he approached her in the first place: to save this boy from discovery. Now he wondered if he shouldn’t have just allowed him to be caught.
“What are you doing here, boy?” he went on. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’d be in if someone had caught you out there tonight? And how dare you follow me here! Just who do you think you are?”
“My name is Eli, I told you that,” he replied obstinately. “And I did what I had to do to save her. I told you…she’s my friend.”
301 shook his head, “You’re insane. Forget about her for a moment. What about you? What about your mother? Do you have any idea how much trouble she would be in if you were discovered?”
Eli paused for a moment, and then looked away sadly, “My mother’s dead.”
“What about your father, then?”
“He’s dead too.”
With surmounting guilt, 301 softened his tone, “Then who takes care of you?”
“I take care of myself!” he insisted. “I don’t need anyone to look after me, least of all a bad man like you!”
“Listen, Eli,” 301 began. “I don’t know where you came from, or where you live, but you need to go back there right now. You can’t be here…it’s not allowed.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he crossed his little arms and looked up at 301 with an expression that almost dared him to try something.
“You are leaving,” 301 countered. “You can go on your own now, or I can force you out. Your choice.”
“I’m not afraid of you!” Eli yelled. “I’m not afraid of anything!” He dropped his hands and charged at 301, who braced himself with the intention of grabbing Eli without hurting him. But at the precise moment the boy’s body collided with his own, the world around him seemed to shake. Nausea rose in his stomach, his vision blurred, and then—he wasn’t in the palace suite at all.
A little girl stood before him smiling, no older than five or six. She stared at him with loving blue-green eyes—eyes that beckoned to him, comforted him, and made him feel strong. But then a great fire filled his vision, shutting out all those positive emotions with the fear of loss and destruction, as tho
ugh everything that he knew in the world was being reduced to ashes. Within the fire he saw another set of eyes—deep green like his own. Though the flames did not touch him, they burned in the depths of 301’s soul. And he could feel, as vividly as though he were there, hot tears of anguish streaming down the sides of his face.
Then the fire was gone. The palace suite came back into focus, though he did not return as he had left it. He lay on his side on the soft carpet, having evidently passed out from the ordeal. He sat up and wiped beads of sweat from his brow. Eli was nowhere to be seen, and 301 doubted he had left by way of the door. In fact, thinking back over his many encounters with the boy 301 was inclined to believe he wasn’t a part of the material world at all. But then what was he? A hallucination? A ghost?
He rose to his feet, still a bit nauseous, just as the water in the bathroom stopped running. He quickly composed himself, deciding he would worry about what had just happened—or possibly, didn’t happen—in the morning. For now, he had a more pressing issue to deal with. He stepped back up to the small chest, his curiosity even stronger now than it had been before Eli’s warning.
301 lifted the lid on the chest and beheld its contents. One object immediately caught his attention and sent a bolt of fear straight through his heart. He reached for it, as breathless as he had been in the courtyard—though for an entirely different reason.
In his hand he held the hilt of a Spectral Gladius.
The stone casing was blue, probably of sapphire or tourmaline, and slightly smaller than the one he had used in the Hall of Mirrors. Likely the difference in size was to match a woman’s smaller hands. As he turned the hilt over to examine it, he saw the name of the weapon engraved along the side in silver: Novus Vita.
