by Korza, Jay
When T’Leh took his seat, he saw D’Bath walking into the chambers, ushered by two of the general’s aides. T’Leh immediately began to think that his infertility had somehow become known and now he and D’Bath were about to be executed for hiding the secret. He kept his face stone. “What are we doing here?”
General N’thoth’s smile fixed into a straight line across his scarred and misshapen face. “I have come to believe that there are traitors in the very mist of the royal family.”
T’Leh felt that any moment his very own warrior’s hand would reach out and crush his skull. “What are you talking about? There hasn’t been anyone charged with treason in more than six hundred years. You better have proof of this so-called traitor or you will find yourself in a tube.” His voice was more calm and even than he felt inside.
“As I said, Your Highness,” N’thoth continued, “there are traitors, more than one. My spies have found the beginnings of an underground network of Nortes who have been communicating with the slaves.” A collective gasp erupted from all those who did not already know what the general was going to say.
“We believe that they have been teaching slaves to speak Nortes as well as some of the more common slave languages. This can only point towards an uprising among our slaves.” The general made a point of making dramatic gestures as he walked in the chambers. “We raided a meeting of these dissidents this afternoon.”
“Without my knowledge!” T’Leh was furious that his citizens, possibly completely innocent civilians, had been attacked by his general’s men.
“Sire, I know that you love your empire and your people. I’m sure that any measure I make to ensure its safety is in the best interest of you and your people. However, if in the future, you want me to inform you of such actions before they take place, I will. And sire, I do believe that we will be performing many more of these actions in the near future.”
“Why this meeting? Surely you could have told me this in my office.” T’Leh knew that N’thoth was hiding something.
“I believe that your office has been soiled enough already by the traitors we caught today. I only wished to help distance you even further from what is about to happen. That is why I felt these chambers would be the most appropriate place for the interrogations.” He then tapped his com-badge. “Bring them in.”
A male and female Nortes were brought into the chamber with arms bound behind their backs and hoods over their heads. T’Leh assumed that they were also gagged because of the muffled sounds coming from under the hoods. The general walked to the two figures and removed the hoods.
T’Leh almost fell out of his chair. Standing bound and gagged before him were P’Tong and D’Nerth. “What is this nonsense?! Answer me at once!” T’Leh shouted. Fouter knew his master well and moved into position to kill the general if it was so ordered. Fouter didn’t know anything of politics but he knew he had never heard T’Leh so angry in his life and he knew that it was the general’s fault. If the general could not explain his actions, he would be dead very shortly. And unfortunately, if the general could explain his actions, then Fouter would probably have to kill his master’s best friends.
The general knew why Fouter had moved towards him so he hastened his speech along. “Emperor T’Leh, your friends have been conspiring against you and the empire. They have been leading an underground movement for some years now. We have information that leads us to believe that their capture will unravel the entire movement. Once we have interrogated them in the tubes, we will surely be able to quash this underground quickly and quietly.”
The general also believed that T’Leh was somehow involved or at least knew of the plots his friends were scheming. He couldn’t come out and say it without absolute proof; otherwise, he would be summarily executed. Once D’Nerth and P’Tong had been placed in the torture tubes, he was sure he would get the information against T’Leh he needed to have the brat-emperor killed. N’thoth knew he could run the empire from behind the throne if T’Leh’s cousin was made emperor.
T’Leh kept his composure even though he was dying inside. “Why is Dr. D’Bath here? Why does he need to witness this?”
N’thoth tried to put on his most sincere expression of regret, which was difficult as he had never felt regret in his life. “Dr. D’Bath, we found these two traitors getting ready to have a meeting with their other degenerate friends. When we raided the store they were using as a front for one of their safe houses, there were five civilian casualties. I’m afraid that one was your wife and the other your son. All of the other terrorists took poison capsules to avoid being caught. We still don’t know why these two didn’t follow suit. They’re probably just cowards. Again, I am truly sorry for your loss, Doctor.”
D’Bath crumpled to the floor and T’Leh couldn’t help but let a tear escape his eyes. He was crying not only for his friend and most trusted advisor but for his friends who he was about to kill. He knew that they didn’t take their poison capsules because of the child D’Nerth carried. Through all of his pain and grief, T’Leh knew what he had to do.
He couldn’t allow his friends to be tortured for the obvious reason that he couldn’t bear to see them go through that type of pain. He also couldn’t allow them to give up all of the information they had on the underground, especially his name. T’Leh looked directly into D’Nerth’s eyes and saw that she, too, was thinking the same thing.
She then made a quick look to her stomach and back to D’Bath. After T’Leh had told his friends that he could not father any children, D’Nerth had suggested allowing her husband to give D’Bath his sperm to be artificially inseminated into M’Tawny. T’Leh quickly dismissed the idea and told them of the touching ceremony that took place after birth to verify the DNA. T’Leh thought that he knew what D’Nerth was now suggesting with her quick glances.
T’Leh saw that his warrior was just as close to N’thoth as he was to his two friends. He quickly dismissed the idea of having the general killed instead. There were too many witnesses and he couldn’t kill them all. He would be quickly put down as a traitor to his own empire and killed along with his friends and their unborn child. T’Leh looked away. “Warrior, kill the traitors.”
Without even thinking about it or hesitating for a second, Fouter used one of his mighty hands for each of the prisoner’s skulls and crushed them while twisting and breaking their necks. T’Leh knew that neither of his friends felt any pain; Fouter was too quick and skilled for that.
The general looked dumbfounded at the two corpses on the ground, rage building within him. “Why have you killed our only sources of information?! Why did you willingly endanger the empire?!”
T’Leh stepped down from the dais. “You DARE question me! I am the ruler of the empire and your master!” Fouter moved ever so closer to the general, ready to dispatch him if it were so ordered. “Are you questioning my loyalty? Are you saying that I act for anything other than the good of my people?”
The general began shaking, as much from fear as from anger. “No, Your Highness. I apologize for my transgressions.”
He knelt to the floor and offered T’Leh a view of the base of his skull, submitting his life to the emperor. “I await your punishment.”
T’Leh wanted him killed but knew that he could not justify it without making himself suspect to further inquiry. “Although I need not justify my actions…” He let the words hang in the air for a moment while he returned to his seat on the dais. “I could not allow those two traitors to live any longer. They had lied to me for years and betrayed not only the empire but my trust and love. And because of their actions, one of the empire’s most loyal and important citizens has lost his family. For my friend D’Bath and the empire, justice for their actions could not wait a second longer.
“Besides, you said yourself that they led the underground. With them gone, the rest should be easy to find. That is, if they even stay together. With their leaders dead, I’m sure that they will not last long on their own.”
Fouter looked to the still kneeling general and then to T’Leh. T’Leh realized that although he could not kill the general, he could still use his public show of anger as an excuse for some form of punishment. “Warrior, take the general and place him in a torture tube. One full day should be enough time for him to think about how he will address his master in the future. And maybe he will have a little more regard for the citizens of this empire he is sworn to protect.”
Fouter lifted the general from the ground by his head and then grabbed his lower legs in another of his massive hands. Reflexively, the general began to resist against the pain he felt from the warrior. Fouter punched him once in the face and the audible breaking of the general’s nose, cheek, and possibly jaw reverberated throughout the entire chamber. The general went slack in the warrior’s grip. Fouter then looked at T’Leh again. “He lives, master; only his bones are injured. I will take him to the tube at once.” Fouter then signaled to his remaining warriors so that they would stay with T’Leh.
T’Leh took a hold of D’Bath and began to walk him towards the palace shuttle. “Warrior, I want these terrorist bodies to be taken to D’Bath’s laboratory so that they can be autopsied. We may still be able to get some information from them yet, so do not harm their bodies any further.” T’Leh led his friend out the chamber doors and as an afterthought, he said over his shoulder, “Make sure the general is conscious before his time in the tube starts. I want to make sure that he remembers every moment of it.”
T’Leh had the warrior bodyguards sit in a separate compartment in the shuttle for the ride to D’Bath’s laboratory. “I cannot even imagine the pain you are suffering, my friend, but I need your help.”
D’Bath only continued to sob into his hands. After a moment, still not looking at T’Leh, he said, “I told her not to take our son to one of the meetings. I told her that it could be dangerous. She insisted that bringing him only made the shop look even more innocent and that the military wouldn’t take action against children. She just wouldn’t listen to me.”
T’Leh could barely breathe. All this time D’Bath and his wife were a part of the movement? “Are you saying that your wife wasn’t there by accident? You knew what she was doing?”
“Yes. And you can torture me all you like but nothing will compare to the pain I am already feeling. I don’t even know anything that would be useful to you.”
“My friend, I would never torture you. I had D’Nerth and P’Tong executed so that they would not have to go through the pain of being tortured. And also so they could not give my name to General N’thoth as one of their conspirators.” T’Leh looked into his friend’s eyes as the realization of what he had just said hit D’Bath. He continued, “I also wanted a chance to save their unborn child. D’Nerth was three months pregnant. Do you think that you can save her child?”
D’Bath tried to pull himself together. He wasn’t sure whether he was relieved that he wasn’t going to be executed or distraught that he would have to live with this pain he felt for years to come. “If we can remove the embryo within the next twenty minutes, it should be all right. But where are we going to put it? We will need a viable host for it.”
“Maybe we can kill two Yanghus with one spear.” T’Leh opened a comm channel to M’Tawny’s private quarters. “I need you to come to D’Bath’s laboratory now. There is no time for questions. Tell the house mistress that I am very distressed and need comforting and that I told you to meet me in the laboratory. Be there in five minutes.”
M’Tawny closed the channel and did what her lover told her to do.
D’Bath, still thinking of his family, was trying to clear his mind so he could be prepared for what he was about to do. “T’Leh, I don’t think that I’ll have any problems transferring the embryo to M’Tawny, but we still have a bigger problem.”
“I know. But we have eleven months to figure out how we’re going to get through the touching ceremony. For now, I have a chance to save the life of my best friends’ child and a piece of them as well. I can give my lover the child that she wants and maybe hold onto the throne at the same time.” T’Leh looked at D’Bath. “I only wish I could give you something, my friend, but all I have is gratitude for what you are about to do.”
Once at the laboratory, all personnel were cleared from the operating room. The procedure went as according to plan and two hours later, M’Tawny was pregnant. Even though the life inside her was not created by her and T’Leh, she felt an instant bond with the child she was now responsible for. She knew that she would love it just as much as if she had created it herself. M’Tawny knew that she would have wanted the same thing done if she had been in D’Nerth’s place.
D’Bath spent the next several hours performing autopsies on T’Leh’s friends. He made sure that there was no sign that D’Nerth had been pregnant and that there was no forensic material that could harm the resistance in any way. When it was done, he hugged T’Leh and M’Tawny and went home. No one saw or heard from D’Bath until the funeral for his family one week later.
~
A little less than eleven months later, M’Tawny gave birth to the first and only child she and T’Leh would ever have. It was the most beautiful thing T’Leh had ever seen in his life.
Two weeks later, D’Bath became the child’s godfather and T’Leh’s savior. D’Bath had figured out a way to fool the touching ceremony.
Snake
Mouse had just finished his last run of the day; at least, he hoped it was his last. He had been pulling extra duty since Johnny got himself arrested three days ago.
Johnny, like all of the other runners, was under fourteen, so he would be spending a bit of time at juvenile corrections before they let him go home with a parent or as a ward of the colony. Any kid over fourteen was considered an adult for legal purposes if they were caught in the employ of or even slightly connected to any form of a criminal syndicate.
For that reason, Zinner kept all of his runners younger than fourteen. If a kid was going to be treated as an adult and thrown in an adult jail or prison for their crimes, the kid was sure to crack and turn Zinner over in order to make a deal for themselves.
Zinner used his kids to run everything he needed: drugs, money, instructions, notes, questions—everything. Zinner didn’t use phones, the Net or terminals for any part of his business. Technology was too easy to get around, trace, undelete, or get a warrant for. A note written by a ten-year-old kid who took a dictation from a thirteen-year-old kid who was told what to say by another kid who was told by Zinner what to say, well, that was way too much hearsay for any court and none of that could be used as evidence. And Zinner made sure his kids got every last word right. Sometimes he spot-checked the notes to make sure nothing was lost in translation; if something was wrong, there was hell to pay. It’s amazing how the game of telephone doesn’t run into any problems down the wire when your fingers will get cut off if you pass the incorrect message along.
Mouse walked in to the hub, handed the coordinator a small wad of cash, and then sat down heavily into a fairly abused beanbag. The hub was where all of the runners got their orders and returned to after their assignment was complete or with return items from their assignment. The coordinator was the kid in charge of passing out assignments and keeping track of who was at the hub waiting for their next run or to be let off shift.
Today, an eight-year-old named Jenny was the coordinator. She was a bossy little thing, well suited for her current task. “Hey, booger head.” She addressed Mouse as he handed her the cash. “I have another run for you.”
“Jennnnnnnnyyyyyyy! I’ve been running all day!” Mouse pouted.
Jenny looked at him in a way that no eight-year-old child should ever be able to. Her face was a barely contained mask of rage and malice. “No one, NO ONE, argues with the coordinator.” Her words were punctuated with a stomp to the ground and her little hands balled into fists.
Mouse put his hands up in a supplicating gesture. “I wasn’t arguing,
Jenny. I’m sorry. I was just, uh, whining a little bit. I’m tired and hungry, that’s all. What have you got for me?”
Jenny transformed back into an eight-year-old little girl and reached back into her pocket and pulled out a sticky roll of leathery pressed fruit. “Want my roll-o? It’s grape!”
“No, thanks. I’m just gonna sit here until you have my run ready.”
Mouse curled up into a little ball and tried to take a power nap before his next run. He had just turned thirteen. He only had one year of work left in him before Zinner gave him a wad of cash and threatened to kill him if he ever showed his face in or near the hub again. Zinner was much harder on the veterans with only a year left of service; he wasn’t losing much if he happened to disable or kill an almost retired runner.
Short of the never-ending threat of possible abuse, police raids, and all other sorts of potential violence, the hub was a pretty nice place to hang out, even on a runner’s day off. It had video games, TV, pool tables, a skateboard ramp, gymnastic equipment, and tons of toys. The hub was always stocked with food and drinks—never any candy, though. Zinner didn’t let his kids have candy; it wasn’t good for them. Not that he cared about their overall health or dental issues, but he found that feeding the kids healthy food and keeping them hydrated kept them from getting sick or tired too quickly. Keeping his runners healthy kept his business healthy and that’s all he cared about.
Mouse closed his eyes and let his mind drift away for a little bit. He was half tempted to go check in on his little brother before he made his next run but decided his current position was much more comfortable. Besides, Zach could take care of himself; he was almost nine, for God’s sake. Today was Zach’s day off but Mouse knew he would be skateboarding until late into the evening.
