by Drew Avera
A dull ache crept into my head and seemed to attempt to stab my eyeballs out of their sockets from the inside out. Gong... I could feel the ripples of air fluttering away from the bar as it vibrated from each strike. With my eyes closed and fingers shoved into my ears I tried to find relief where there was none. So many thoughts flooded into my mind during that time. How easy would it be to puncture my eardrums with my fingers? How many times would I have to slam my head into the cell or the ground before I passed out or killed myself? Would the sounds ever just go away? So many questions and no answers.
I pulled my legs in and wrapped my arms around them as I buried my face between my knees. Shoulders hunched, I screamed for someone, anyone, to turn it off. I was willing to do anything for peace at this point, and that was when I realized something was different.
I looked up at the man who had been striking the cage with the steel bar and he was merely standing there with the pipe, leaning against the cage. It was impossible though, because I still heard the rattle and thrum of each strike. It was a cacophony of piercing wails every few seconds echoing against my body and ravaging me. Distress and lament caressed me into the oblivion of something I couldn't deny. I had truly lost my mind.
Harris moved in a jerking manner, which drove my eyes towards him as the ringing in my ears kept me almost entirely distracted. He was bracing himself inside of the cell and was visibly afraid in a much more severe way. I moved my head from side to side, trying to find what it was he was looking at, but my view was disrupted by the shadowy figure that had been making the ruckus. All I could see now was shadows being cast from something moving down the stairs. The flickering lights did nothing to settle my nerves. If anything, the frayed ends of sanity were finally coming undone as the shadow grew larger with each passing step.
"Who is it?" I asked, unsure of whether or not I was whispering or screaming. Sounds other than the ringing were finally surfacing, but each one sounded as if I were underwater or in a strange tunnel. I could only imagine what kind of damage had been done to my hearing, but I had more to worry about than hearing loss. "Who's there?"
The shadow stopped moving for a moment, which allowed me to make out that it was a man, based on the build of the figure. Other than that I was only able to guess who it would be. Three steps later, the shadow identified themselves and I was right in my assumptions. It was Ghon Abert and he wore a wicked smile on his face as he held some kind of chord in his hands. It was long, and one end of it dangled menacingly with barbs attached to it.
He spoke, and it was muffled due to the ringing in my ears, but I was able to make out his words. "Who's first, gentlemen? I'll take a volunteer, or you can let me choose. Either way is fine with me." I wasn't sure what was going on, but by the look on Harris' face, this was anything other than promising.
Harris looked at me with wide eyes and labored breath. How I missed the strong man I knew before leaving. His confidence was lost and I couldn't help but feel responsible for him getting into this predicament. Unfortunately, things were about to get worse.
"I should pick you, Serus, but you know what? I think I will enjoy seeing the look on your face as I have fun with Harris here too much to pass up. Guard, put him to the column," Ghon ordered the man who previously wielded the pipe to fetch Harris from the cage. My heart leapt into my throat at the prospect of what was about to happen. The guard reached in and grabbed Harris by the throat. I watched helplessly as Harris was pulled from his confinement without so much as a struggle in any way and then was tossed against a support column in the middle of the chamber.
The column was made out of some light colored stone, but it was pitted and stained. The guard yanked the shirt from Harris' body and revealed raw flesh and it was not difficult to surmise where those stains had come from as I looked on in horror at the deep lacerations and scars on Harris' back. I felt nauseous as I beheld such a horrific thing. Who could do this to another human being?
The answer to that question was revealed as the loose end of the cable was dropped to the ground and Ghon whirled it in the air. I then realized what it was; a whip. The first crack of it against Harris' back elicited a wail from him and a scream of terror out of me. My God, what I had I done in coming here and dragging him into this charade with The Syndicate? I never meant for any of this to happen. Another crack and another cry rang out and at that moment my body craved the insanity of the pipe striking the cage over what I was witnessing now. This was too much to bear.
I looked to see opened flesh and flowing blood. I counted only three strikes with the whip, but Harris was already unconscious and sprawled out onto the floor. Blood pooled beneath him. A convulsion took hold of me in that moment, as Harris—and everything I thought was good in this life—was brought so close to death, but was forced to endure another day followed by another. It was too much and my body reacted with no input from any kind of thought. The taste of bile entered my mouth and that was all it took for me to vomit; not just from what I was seeing, but the truth about how wicked humanity could be to another. This man was just one in The Syndicate and there were others just as vile as he was. I couldn't reconcile this with everything I once knew. I thought humanity was evolved and better than such savagery. I was wrong.
Chapter 19
Each lashing from Ghon's whip had torn at Harris' flesh and I thought I had seen the worst of what would happen. I couldn't believe how much blood a person could lose yet still be alive. And the malice of such a deed, carried out so heartlessly, showed me that some people didn't need the programming to strip away their conscience in order to carry out such dastardly things. Some people must be born with that evil inside of them, I thought. I didn't know for sure, but I hoped under other circumstances I would not so needlessly kill or maim another human being. I had my regrets and that was bad enough. The kind of person who could do this must carry something much darker inside of them.
Once the beating was over, the guard had thrown Harris’s limp body back into the cell and slammed the door shut. Harris made no sound when his body hit the cold stone floor and I thought it possible he was dead, but why would they lock up a corpse? That was only partially a relief, but it didn't mean Harris would be all right. The guard eyed me as he walked away, and before stepping out of the chamber he struck one of the cells with the pipe again, which permeated the room with a perpetual ringing that I could still hear long after the physical sound had stopped. I sat in the dim room all but alone as Harris lay in a heap and watched his chest slowly rise and fall with each shallow breath. It was a torture in itself. I thought about praying, but I felt foolish doing something I didn't know was true or not. Still, the compulsion was hard to ignore.
Together, we waited for something to change from our vantage point in the dank, moldy prison. It was impossible to know exactly how much time passed before our visitors returned, but Harris was still unconscious when they stood over his cell and peered in at him. "It's so sad how strength is so easily sapped from someone, isn't it, Serus?" Ghon said without looking in my direction. His glossy black hair was slicked back, and he looked more like a greedy businessman than he did executioner. Looks were deceiving though. I had just watched him flay my friend with a whip and bring him so close to death that I didn't know if he would ever wake up. As if that act wasn't enough of a reason to hate him, Ghon tried to make small talk.
"He is only weak because of the torture you have put him through," I replied. I didn't even try to mask the contempt in my voice. I wore it like a badge of honor. Honor was something this man never had. How many others in The Syndicate were just like him; evil, manipulative, and murderous?
"That was merely a means to an end," he said. "I needed him alive for your sake. Otherwise, he would have been long dead by now." The soulless bastard spoke as if he were doing me some kind of sick favor.
"And why is that?" I asked. My heart raced and I thought it might jump out of my chest.
Ghon rested his arm against the iron bars of Harris' cell
and looked over at me. He had the look of a conniving businessman trying to negotiate terms of a contract, to sell his point in making arrangements for a business deal. That was his life on Mars, but here he was something else entirely, and he seemed to love every minute of it. "We had everything planned out. We would leave Mars before anyone knew what was going on and of course chaos would ensue. We figured the people would be so focused on the lack of leadership that they wouldn't pay attention to the power plant supporting the artificial atmosphere. Sooner or later it would fail completely and whoever had survived up to that point would die. It was a simple and effective way to cut and move into a better life for all of us. That was until your sister got nosy and started poking her head around at the university. We tried to contain it, but we didn't consider that you would all of a sudden grow a damned conscience."
I watched him talk as if he was some kind of great mastermind, but The Syndicate didn't allow absolute power in their organization. I wondered why he came across with such an air of superiority, given the fact he answered to other members. "What does that have to do with Harris? How did keeping him alive and torturing him benefit me in any way?" I spit the words at him as I glared in his direction. He cold dark eyes hardly blinked. He seemed to be enjoying our exchange. He was a master and I a slave in a cage, awaiting disposition. I hated feeling powerless and trapped. Perhaps that was why he came across with such arrogance. I would bet he would not be so bold if I were standing two feet in front of him and not restrained.
"Do you know how business works, Serus? There is give-and-take if any organization is to thrive. We were powerless against such an army as they have here in Faracon. We could not just come and take it over or buy it out. We had to negotiate terms, amass a certain amount of clout with the government here, until we were trusted members of it. Then, from the inside, we would take hold of it and choke out the competition. Treston may be their ruler, but so was Pontiff White. He ruled Mars to some degree; albeit he ruled it in any direction we tugged his puppet strings to take it. Still, the people accepted him, and that is what this is all about. People are so easily manipulated if you give enough to satisfy their greed. Once they are hooked to what you provide, they belong to you."
I hated what I was hearing. "The Syndicate forced Pontiff White's hand by having his pregnant wife killed. How was that satisfying his greed?" I asked.
Ghon chuckled under his breath. "You think we had her killed to force him to serve? That's ridiculous. She was killed to ensure that Prospect Gentry would be trusted to serve The Agency. Any ties between them were solely coincidental."
"It's truth to him. He hates you for it." Ghon was obviously skating around the truth. There was more of a connection than he was letting on. Maybe he was too young to know exactly how it all went down thirty years ago.
"As he should. We have manipulated him for so long he came to expect it. If not for our plans to leave, he would soon have been replaced in any case. Why are you concerned with him anyway?" Ghon asked me.
"Because he's the reason I was able to make another trip to Earth in the first place. He wanted revenge and sent me to do it," I answered.
More laughter erupted as Ghon rolled his eyes. "Well, that went according to plan didn't it? That old fool trusted someone just as selfish as he was. You were too focused on what you wanted and not what the right thing to do was, Serus. That's why keeping Harris alive was for your sake. Before you die, you need a little education on taking responsibility. That's what I'm here for now—to educate you." Ghon pulled my gauntlet from his pocket and put it around his wrist. A moment later he winced as the electrodes penetrated his flesh in order to attach themselves to nerve endings in his arm. It took only a second or two before the sensation passed and he could command the gauntlet. The look of relief after such a disorienting sensation was the telltale sign he had control of it.
I look at him as defiantly as I could, but fear and dread were rooting so deeply into me I had trouble drawing the strength to be resilient. "What are you doing?" I asked. My voice was shakier than I thought it would be.
A smile spread across his face as he looked down at Harris. "Lesson one; never trust your enemies." Ghon aimed the gauntlet at Harris and I watched in horror as a blue light illuminated in the diffuser and glowed against Harris' pale skin.
"No!" I screamed as I scrambled towards the bars closest to Ghon and reached my arm out, hoping to grab the man and stop him before he could hurt my friend. Our eyes met briefly before a bright blue beam lit up the chamber like a lightning strike. And then it was over.
Chapter 20
The light from the gauntlet blast was blinding. I shielded my eyes as best I could, but even after the blast was over I was seeing spots that weren't there. When I looked over to where Harris was I could see he was unmoved and seemingly all right. Ghon, on the other hand, was on his knees and crying out in pain. The guard standing next to him had a panicked expression on his face as he beheld the damage done to Ghon's arm.
It wasn't a spoken about procedure within The Agency, but most of the senior policemen rigged their gauntlets to be used only by them, and would trigger what was referred to as a backfire mechanism if anyone else tried using it. Gentry had told me about it on the way here from Mars and even took it upon himself to rig it for me just in case. I was rather impressed by the spectacle, and seeing Ghon holding his shredded arm and shrieking in pain was a fine payoff for our ruse. There were scorch marks running up his arm, and blood poured from the open wounds.
An added benefit of Ghon using my gauntlet was that it initiated a homing beacon which would alert the others to my exact position. It seemed like a fool’s errand, but Gentry's plan was seemingly working well so far. It seemed reckless to allow myself to fall into custody, but from a strategic standpoint, it fed information to the policemen, which would help them find us and surround the target area. When it came to attacking The Syndicate, we needed the element of surprise. It would seem we had that in spades. The Syndicate and Harris' uncle seemed to be confident that they had the upper hand. That was relative, and I knew something they didn't. My only regret was that Harris was at risk the entire time, and I didn't know if he or Kara would ever forgive me for going through with this plan. I could only hope things would turn around now that the beacon was active.
"Help me, fool!" Ghon cried out. He was looking at the guard, who only seemed to be staring at the wounds inflicted upon Ghon. "Go get help!" Ghon's voice was cracking with panic.
The guard finally pulled his eyes away from the mangled mess that was Ghon's arm and ran away. Ghon was hyperventilating, and I assumed going into shock. If things went my way he would just go ahead and die before the guard was able to bring anyone back to help. There was always a ray of hope if you gave it enough thought.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harris move slightly. I could only imagine how painful it would be for him to move once help arrived, but we needed to do everything we could to save him. I knew Kara would want that and I wasn't too keen on losing another friend. I wanted more than anything to be able to put those days of losing loved ones behind me.
"Someone please help me," Ghon said under his breath. He was rocking back and forth still holding onto his arm as blood continued to pour from his wounds. It was amazing how much blood the human body contained. The gauntlet had released itself after detonation and was lying close to Harris' cage. If he could come to and retrieve my gauntlet, I could possibly get us out of here, but we couldn't afford to let Ghon know what was going on. Even injured he posed a threat, since he was on the outside and we were trapped behind iron bars.
Across the way Harris was moving more. I could see him struggling to roll over on his side and I imagined every inch he shifted sent torrents of pain through his body. If he was groaning, he was doing a good job of hiding it, because I couldn't hear him over the sound of Ghon's panic attack. It was amusing how someone so vindictive could react when the same treatment was done to him. The simple truth was the
bastard deserved that and so much more.
Harris was on his hands and knees now when he turned to look at me. I needed to communicate with him without letting Ghon know it so I tried nodding my head and looking towards my gauntlet. Given the grogginess after waking up from such a torturous experience, it took him several moments to understand what I was trying to do. He nodded his head and slowly crept over to the side of the cage on his hands and knees. He was no more than five feet away from Ghon, who mostly had his back to us when Harris was within arm’s reach of the gauntlet. He slowly reached his hand out to grab it; careful not to stir any attention.
Harris grabbed the gauntlet and went to attach it to his arm. I knew what he was thinking, but I couldn't allow him to be harmed trying to do the right thing. Even though it was unwise to potentially bring attention to ourselves I had no choice but to say something. "Harris," I whispered but he didn't hear me. He was about to clasp it to his arm. "Harris," I said again, this time it was loud enough to draw his attention.
I was surprised Ghon didn't turn around. Instead, he just sat there on his knees and rocked himself as he babbled on about his injury. Harris looked over at me as my silver gauntlet sat in his hand, and I shook my head no and motioned for him to toss the weapon to me. Harris seemed to understand and began crawling closer to me. Each step of his crawl caused him to wince and moan. Once in front of me, he held the gauntlet out and threw it in my direction. The gauntlet landed with a loud clatter on the stone floor directly in front of my cell. The noise did cause Ghon to stir and he slowly turned around to see what the commotion was about. I didn't have time for stealth, so I moved quickly towards that side of my cell and reached out for my gauntlet. It was half an inch too far from reach and at that moment Ghon Abert realized what was happening.
