Black. Cold. Silence. Nothingness. There was no sound, and nothing to hear. Not even the beat of his own heart. No breath to feel. But maybe there was no longer a need to breathe, the thought whispered past. The dead don’t breathe, do they? Nothing. No feeling. Just a total immersion in nothingness. No sense of being, or even of life. But a sense of loss. And an overwhelming sadness. To have lived such a short time in the grand scheme of things, it seemed so unfair to die now. No. Not to die now. But to have already died. To already be dead, and to now think back to what life had been like. To think of…
“Gabrielle.” Jericho whispered through his dry cracked lips. His eyelids fluttered. Maybe he wasn’t dead after all he thought, and at once realized, if he could still think, then he most likely was not dead. But as he began to awaken, he wished that he could still not feel anything, because as his mind began to sharpen, the pain began to come. Wave after wave began to run through him, over him, as it coursed through his very veins, like a rage of fire that would not stop. He gritted his teeth as it rose into a crescendo that threatened to take his consciousness away from him again. No, he thought. Not yet. Not again. Awake. Stay awake, he thought, as he fought the squall in his body.
Where was he? He thought, as he fought back the ebbing tide of pain, still unable to determine where it came from. It seemed to emanate from within, from everywhere, but now gradually he could feel it cross its peak, and slowly it began to subside. As it eased slowly, it became manageable, down to the level of excruciation as opposed to that of certain death. He slowly opened his eyes. Dark, he thought. Total darkness. Or was he now blind? Could that be it? Not dead, but blinded?
Once again the control stick touched Jericho on his side, and sent an instant wave of agony throughout his body and a wave of nausea through his stomach. He screamed as he had over and over again in the last two hours as he had been interrogated. He remembered it all too well now, as his body tightened every muscle in response to the electric pulse. His back arched to the point that he thought his spine would break, before the current finally stopped. He remembered now, how earlier he had wished that the control stick was set to a higher power, at least that way he would pass out and not have to endure the pain. Evidently his tormentor had done so, hence, why he had been unconscious.
“Admit your disobedience.” The voice of a Guardian said from somewhere in the dark. It was unemotional, unfeeling, unprovoked, and unrushed. It was patient. It waited. It came again. “Admit your disobedience.”
“I’ve already told you.” Jericho said weakly, as he breathed quite hard now. He could feel and hear his heart beat now, as it thrummed loudly throughout his head that ached as much as his muscles.
“You have not admitted your disobedience. To not obey is against the rule. The rule is law. Disobedience must be punished.” Silence. Darkness. No sense of movement.
As the pain began to subside from the latest touch from the control stick, his breathing began to return to normal, and the ache in his head seemed to relax a bit. He opened his eyes wider now, and realized there was the tiniest bit of ambient light in the room. Not much, but just a little, which as his eyes focused, allowed him to see the dark form of the Guardian as it stood directly in front of him. Its control stick was extended and was now just inches from his chest. He could not feel his arms but he knew they were there, shackled behind him in the chair where he now sat. He could not feel them, because the circulation was cut off from the way that he was positioned. Only occasional waves of a tingling sensation came from that area, as he carefully shifted his position to ease the pain in his back. How long had he been here, he thought?
“Look, I didn’t want to cause any-”
“Silence.” The Guardian said in its monotone mechanical voice. Jericho shut up. Seconds passed, and Jericho felt the Guardian move and braced himself for yet another touch from the control stick. He shut his eyes, clamped his jaws, and tightened his back. But nothing came. Nothing. Darkness. Silence. He relaxed a bit and opened his eyes again. The dark shadowy form of the Guardian appeared to be in the same position. It had not moved. He thought his eyes must have played tricks on him in the dim barely noticeable light. He looked around in the darkness this time, but could not make out the size of the room, or any features whatsoever. Just the shadow of the Guardian as it stood before him. Suddenly there was an explosion of brightness. He quickly shut his eyes, but was too late to stop the searing light that now burned his eyes, and blinded him. Even with his eyes tightly shut, he could tell the room was ablaze in light. As the seconds ticked by, he thought maybe he might be able to squint just a bit, and get a look at the room he was in, and just as he had decided to attempt it, he was submersed in total darkness again.
“Admit your disobedience.” The Guardian said once more. Flat. To the point. And then, silence. Stillness. Darkness. He opened his eyes again, still blinded by the brightness from before, but the pain had stopped. He sat there in the dark, surrounded by total silence, though he knew the Guardian was just inches away, with its control stick extended, and yet nothing happened. It seemed to last forever. The nothingness. The silence. The waiting. As his vision slowly became acclimated to the darkness again as the minutes passed, he strained to hear even tiniest sound within the room. To see if he might be able to hear any motion from the Guardian that would at least warn him of movement. There was nothing but silence. Total and complete silence. He thought of Gabrielle, and hoped with all his might that he would see her again. That he would live through this agonizing torment. That the Guardians would realize that it was Donovan that had caused the problem. That it had been Donovan’s fault. That they would let him go, and he could go back to Gabrielle. That he could see her again. See her smile. Hear her laugh. Touch her once again. He turned inside himself in the darkness and remembered the sight of the dawning sun, and her face, and her reaction to that amazing beauty. The way she had moved, and had smiled. The way she had smelled. Her laugh, and the breeze in her hair. The way the sun had begun to light up her face. It had been paradise. Paradise shared. Paradise loved. And he knew how he loved her. Her every move. Her every word. So moved was he, that a single tear leaked beyond his eye, and trailed slowly down the side of his cheek.
Though he could not see it, it glistened ever so slightly in the muted dim light of the darkened room. And though he could not tell, the Guardian still stood motionless in front of him, and silently observed this. No reaction. No movement. Just observation. The optical lenses behind those unmoving eyes registered the movement of the tear, and traced its path with pinpoint accuracy to a level of definition so finite as to be incomprehensible to the people the Guardian looked after. Though the Guardian could see quite well in the darkened room, and it could detect changes from the bit of ambient light in the room as they shimmered off of the tear’s surface, it only registered the tear’s current and changing shape. As the electrons processed the image, and relayed it to the processing unit of the Guardian, there was no change in the observation. It did not feel good, nor bad, as it followed the trajectory of the tear. It did not attempt to anticipate what its future path would be as it continued to move, nor did it have concern over its meaning. It simply and truly observed. Internally the components that made up the processing unit began to push more atomic bits of electrons as they carried information, all loaded with the data that referenced the tear. The data went through the processing unit, and then to the transceiver circuit, where the data was sent someplace. Someplace that the Guardian had never been, and would never go, and would never be able to acknowledge. Someplace that the Guardian did not even know existed, and even if it was somehow able to follow this data trail, it was incapable of feeling concern over this unknown transmission. This transmission of information to an unknown place. This some place. Someplace else.
Silence. Darkness. The pain was now down to a slow quieting roll. The minutes continued to pass wit
h an agonizing slowness. Finally the darkness began to dissolve as his eyes once again began to adjust. He shifted his gaze, and once again tried to look around. He could just make out the shape of the Guardian in the gloom again, as it still stood motionless, right in front of him. Silent and unmoving, it was just a dark shadow in his view. He took a deep breath, and sighed. Maybe the worst part was finally over. Maybe it would all be over soon and he could get out of here, wherever here was, and just get home. To see Gabrielle. Or to get something to eat. He hadn’t even realized that he was famished. Now that things had calmed down, he could feel his belly rumble. Or even back to his station. A few focused hours as he targeted particles would make him feel much better. That would be a great way to just forget about this.
A loud alarm blasted suddenly and assaulted his senses. He jumped in his seat, as the chains that bound him went taught, and though he was bound from behind, he involuntarily lifted just enough for his chest to make contact with Guardian’s control stick. His back arched in agony as the muscles throughout his body tightened, and then his world exploded into brightness as the light flashed on again. His body shook uncontrollably. Convulsed. Then pain. Ears ringing. Eyes burning. And then, thankfully, unconsciousness.
Chapter 5
Immortal Page 4
