My vision filled with dancing light fuzzies, then everything went black. My last thoughts, possibly my last thoughts ever, were for the kids. I’d failed them.
ELEVEN
Mirraya and Slapgren were in two separate cells situated a few meters apart. The sterile jail had harsh, uniform lighting that prevented shadows. Cameras were positioned everywhere and whirred around the clock. Guards patrolled inside the massive metal doors like swarms of ants. When the doors opened, which was rare, even more guards were evident on the outside. The Adamant soldiers never slowed, chatted, or showed signs of fatigue. As they stomped their feet, they were either looking directly at one of the teens or searching every nook and cranny for signs of anything out of place. The field that prevented them from transforming themselves was active. They tried to shapeshift as soon as they were locked in but couldn’t.
If either teen spoke, the guards angrily slammed the butts of their guns against the bars. Occasionally they would pound them with water from a fire hose. The prisoners could only speak if spoken to by a guard. If they initiated a conversation, they received the same harsh treatment. Meals were served once a day, were tasteless, and didn’t provide half the nutrition they needed. Though they had been held for several days, no one had as much as interrogated them. They were both about as miserable as they could have been.
Finally, an officer of high rank, based on the nervous tension that accompanied her arrival, entered the jail. She was the same size and color as the rest of the Adamant, but she carried herself imperially. She walked up to the bars and ran her sharp claws against them as she passed. She made one full circuit around the cells, studying the teens, then stopped in front of Mirraya.
“You have caused much more trouble than you are worth, child,” said the officer. “You were on Triumph of Might before she exploded, weren’t you child?”
Mirraya didn’t answer. She was trying to be strong. She was also frightened out of her gourd.
“Yes, you were. Do you recall the treatment your degenerate species received there? The price you are going to pay for troubling the Empire will be significantly higher.” She ran her claw back and forth on the bars. “I can see in your eyes you don’t believe that’s possible.” She leaned in. “You will find out the truth of it very soon. You will come to believe every word I say. You will worship me, in fact, before you die.” The female officer closed her eyes and sniffed deeply. “Lords how I love my job.
“But, first things first,” she went on. “I am High Seer Malraff. It is tasked to me to extract any useful information from you. Personally, I doubt you have one shred of useful information inside your useless heads. But I do enjoy being thorough when serving my emperor. Past that directive, my orders end. I am perfectly free to do with you as my fantasies compel me to.” Malraff maliciously snarled. “If that doesn't scare you, child, please know nothing ever will.”
Mirraya couldn’t remain silent. “If you harm us, you will answer to Jon Ryan.”
Malraff smiled malevolently. “Child, I already am addressing Jon Ryan. He nips at our heel and delays our conquest of this meaningless planet.”
“No, I mean you will answer to the real Jon Ryan. He’s the one who rescued me from your extermination ship. He’s the one who destroyed it. You’ll answer to that Jon Ryan one way or another. If our blood is on your hands, you will be less comfortable with his disposition of your bony ass.”
Reflexively Malraff snapped at Mirri but quickly regained her composure. A nearby guard slammed his rifle butt through the bars, narrowly missing Mirraya’s face.
“How dare you,” she spat at the guard. “Do you think I require your help, you worthless flea?”
“S … sory, High Seer. I just couldn’t hear her blasphemy.” He lowered his chin to his chest. “Forgive me.”
“I shall forgive you,” Malraff said in a treacle voice. “But I fear you will never forgive yourself.”
His head remained down, but his eyes snapped up in panic.
“To upset one as pure as me must surely be too great a burden for you to bear, dear one. I fear you will leave my sight at once and blow most of your head off in the hallway outside, far from my ears and eyes.” She stroked his ear. Then she nodded to guard next to them. Both soldiers turned and left silently.
“Now, back to your empty threats. Do you mean to tell me there are two of those idiot Ryans in this universe, when but one alone is intolerable?”
“There are. Are you familiar with the saying about the devil you know and the one you do not know? It applies here.”
“Remind me to be afraid,” she responded. “Ah, but wait, you won’t be able to, from so far away in the afterlife.”
“Suit yourself, bitch. Whether I’m dead before you or not, we will both know I’m right in the end. I will, unlike you, have a smile on my face.” Mirraya stood. “I am willing to accept your surrender, however. I know what Uncle Jon will do to you, and unlike you, I have a conscience. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try and protect you.”
“That gloating will cost your friend here severely.” Malraff pointed at Slapgren without looking at him.
“What,” he protested with a whine, “I haven’t said a thing.”
Malraff studied him coolly. “Pity. This child won’t grow to the fullness of adulthood and the basic understanding that life just isn’t fair.” She lightly touched her chest. “I blame myself and no one else. I’m actually not a very nice person, you know?”
“Your physical torture may be terrible, but listening to you run on is complete agony,” said Mirraya.
“There will come a time very shortly when I will ask you if you still feel this was the worst of my cruelty. I know from experience your smart mouth will beg forgiveness.”
“Look,” Mirraya said, reclining on her cot, “I’m tired of you already. You keep flapping your gums. I’m taking a nap. It’ll seem like I’m ignoring you, because I am.” With that she closed her eyes.
“Sergeant of the Pack,” screamed Malraff. “Extract the girl and bring her to my lab. Bring the boy too, for that matter. Let him see what he’s in store for.”
Mirraya laid still as two burly guards—burly by Adamant standards—lifted her from either side and carried her away. Slapgren was escorted more conventionally by two other guards. Malraff followed next, ahead of a truly impressive column of soldiers. The teens were not going to escape.
The facilities of High Seer Malraff were, not unexpectedly, close the detention center. As they approached the metal door, some troops peeled off and returned to their prior posts while others remained with the prisoners. Without needing to be told, the guards carrying the still limp Mirraya lifted her onto a metal table and strapped her down. They placed six-point restraints on her. She was held in place by straps over all four appendages, her chest, and her forehead. Breathing was difficult, she was bound so tightly.
Malraff held a gag in one hand as she stepped up to the table. She looked underneath to ensure all the drains and suction tubes were correctly placed and in working order. She might have been a sociopath, but she was a detail-oriented sociopath.
“It seems we are about to begin,” said the High Seer with obvious glee in her voice. She held the gag in front of Mirraya’s face. “I typically prefer not to use this. I feel the sounds of your agony enhance everyone’s appreciation of the interrogation. But, I am practical. Some of my guards have empathy, however diminished, and have been known to pass out when hearing a certain level of torment in a scream. So, if it’s all the same with you, child, we’ll begin without it and play it by ear, shall we?” A putrid smile crossed Malraff’s muzzle.
An attendant, dressed much differently than the soldiers, pushed over a sleek metal tray table that was covered by a drape. He then stood silently awaiting her directions.
“Ah, Cumberton, you do think of everything, don’t you? As she’s a child, you’ve included the medium-sized set of probes and pliers.” She smiled at him with affection. �
��I am such a lucky officer to have an aide as competent as you.”
Cumberton, for his part, nodded his head slightly.
“As this is our first of many sessions, child, I feel it’s best to focus on pain and not burden you with questions. Oh, I may slip in the odd easy query just for the sake of perception, but I’ll hold off on the information quest until later.” She spoke to Cumberton without turning. “If you would be so kind as to remove all her clothing, we can then begin.”
With practiced efficiency, Mirraya’s garments were removed without damaging a thread. He folded them neatly on a nearby empty metal stand.
“Now let me see,” said Malraff as she picked up and inspected a few tools. “I think this will do nicely.” She held a rough-edged short blade in her hand. It looked so natural there, it seemed to be part of her paw. She set the serrated edge on Mirraya’s cheek and pressed just hard enough to draw a trickle of blood.
“This is your last warning, bitch,” said Mirraya with conviction. “If you proceed, you seal your fate.”
“Thank you for the updated empty threat. Your concern for my well-being is unexpected.”
“I could give a quat’s ass about your well-being. You, however, should.”
“This is going to be especially gratifying, child. Thank you in advance while you can still understand language.” With that, Malraff began to open a jagged wound on Mirraya’s face.
The doors to the torture chamber burst open with a deafening crash. Malraff froze. She had standing orders that, under penalty of being next, she was never to be interrupted while working.
A deep, commanding voice called out loudly. “High Seer Malraff, I bear a message you must hear immediately.”
It was the officer of the watch, Pack Overlord Folpitor, who spoke.
That cur should know to fear me, thought Malraff. “I don’t care if the message is from the emperor himself. I am not to be interrupted. Leave now, and I will deal with of your insubordination later.
“Beg pardon, High Seer Malraff, but the message is from the emperor himself. He commanded me to deliver it without delay.”
That would, she reflected, trump her order to not be disturbed. Still, she’d probably arrange a terrible accident to befall Folpitor in the very near future.
“Very well, lackey, what is his message that has you peeing the corridors?”
A couple guards snickered quietly.
“Emperor Bestiormax commands that the Deft prisoners not be harmed. He bids them brought before him with all possible haste.”
Malraff cursed quietly under her breath.
Standing erect, she asked, “Why does he request such a thing?”
“He did not say. I did not ask him. He simply ordains it, and it will be.”
A threat? That simpering tool was threatening her? Oh, his accident would be ugly, indeed.
Malraff threw the scalpel across the room and it clanked to the floor noisily. “Cumberton, have these two returned to their cells. Once she is secured there, turn off the cellular stasis field just long enough for the child to repair her mark.”
She turned to Folpitor. “It wouldn’t do to make his lord, the emperor gaze upon an ugly gash, now would it?”
Folpitor turned and left without reacting. He made a mental note to triple his personal guard.
TWELVE
When I awoke with a giant bug plowing through my chest, I was pissed to be alive. When I opened my eyes this time, I was excited to not be dead. Then, unfortunately, I raised my head off the rocky ground and looked around. I immediately reconsidered whether death might not be better. It sure as hell would have been easier.
I rose. Crap, what a muddle. I was standing on the surface of a giant asteroid. The surface was nearly all fused rock with scattered collections of debris. Impact craters pot-marked the ground. There was a bright-yellow star burning in the night sky. That meant I was on a body with no significant atmosphere. Good thing I no longer needed to breathe and didn't explode in low-pressure environments. I jumped up cautiously. There was a good deal of gravity, more than an asteroid would have. So, I was on a rocky planet that was exposed to extreme heat at some point in the—
Wait. Oh no he didn’t. I ran a quick spectral analysis of the star. It was the Sun, the Sun of Earth. I was standing on the surface of what was left of Earth after Jupiter smashed into it two billion years ago. Man, the place hadn’t changed much since I last saw it. Only the scoring of meteorite impacts was new. EJ, for whatever perverse reason, decided to send me to what was left of Earth. He could have killed me or confined me, but no. The SOB marooned me here as some form of sick joke. Even I didn’t think it was funny. Not surprisingly, in two billion years, no life had reemerged. The place was as bleak as bleak could be. I knew for damn sure no spacecraft had self-assembled themselves here. Talk about being stranded. Just tattoo Robinson Crusoe across my forehead and leave me be for a few thousand years.
Then a rage grew inside me the likes of which I’d never felt. How dare he. There was every chance I’d never get off the planet. I had teens to protect and Adamant to kill. Now those were impossibilities. My recent updates and resupplies meant I could last several million years. He knew that and decided I would be punished by sending me here to suffer forever. There wasn’t even a good way to kill myself here. If there was one good lava flow, I could jump in and end it all. But there wasn’t even that.
Maybe he intended to leave me here until he had some free time. Then he could come and kill me properly for recreational purposes. Damn him to hell. He just vaulted over the Adamant as number one on my kill list. The problem was that it didn’t seem likely I’d be killing anyone for a very long time.
What would Mirraya and Slapgren do? Clearly, I was never going to post notice so we could regroup. Would they eventually give up on me and do something on their own? But what? They were on a completely hostile planet with minimal assets. They were just kids. Eventually they’d be killed or, worse yet, captured. As quickly as my rage had hit, a black sadness consumed me. I placed them in harm’s way. For what? A chance to stroll down memory lane? To honor a two-billion-year-old promise? I was stuck trying to justify the unjustifiable. I knew there, dropping to my knees on wasteland Earth, how a pile of crap felt. It was slightly north of how I was feeling at this moment.
I stayed there on the scorched earth for a couple hours. I’ve felt good in my long life and I’ve felt bad. Depression was completely foreign to me. It suited me like bright colors suited the Grim Reaper. I slowly came to my senses. What I had to do was move on. Solve the problem. That’s what fighter pilots did. That’s what good guardians did. Those kids needed me, and though I might fail them, it would not be for lack of trying.
Step one: reconnoiter the locale. Step two: compile a list of assets. Step three: make a proactive move based on steps one and two. I could do that.
I started running in a straight line. I suspected the landscape was uniformly desolate, but I wouldn’t find out sitting on my past laurels. I’d observed Earth just after it passed through and out of Jupiter’s gaseous atmosphere. I’d also visited it a couple times long ago. The consensus among scientists was that the crust and oceans were stripped away. That left the hard-rock upper mantle exposed. There had been a lot of volcanism too, as the lava below the upper mantle was free to escape. Back in the day, the display was breathtaking, but all that was over. A few rare signs of recent lava extrusions were scattered randomly. The rest was pounded glazed rock.
I ran for a day and a half before I felt confident that there was absolutely nothing to see. I had the pipe dream that some scientific survey might have left something behind. Nope. No indication that anyone had bothered to visit was evident. That would have been too easy, right?
On to step two. Assets. Hmm. I had at my disposal one used android. Said robot possessed communication systems, probe fibers, a laser, and a personal membrane generator. Hey, I could get off the planet real easy. Just send a wide broadcast and wait for the Adamant to
give me a ride to the death ship of my choice. I crossed that notion off the list.
What could I do to get off the planet? Actually, I possessed the power to throw myself off. That was something. I could use my fibers and maybe reconfigurations of my membrane to propel myself upward. Great. Then I could drift in a straight line for all eternity. Sooner or later I had to slam into a Walmart. They were everywhere. Yeah, not too great a plan. It was better than Dial-A-Ride from the Adamant, but only because I was responsible for my death, not the puppy dogs.
As I pondered escape, for some reason I flashed back to freshman physics and Newton’s third law of motion. I did have the capability for limited maneuverability in space. For every action, there was an equal and opposite reaction. As dumb as it sounded—which was very dumb indeed—I could launch myself holding a bunch of rocks. To move slightly left, I just had to throw one to the right. How many rocks could I carry? A lot, if I combined my fibers and a configured my membrane to be a big old sack o’rocks.
Despite all proper reason and logic to the contrary, I started to get excited. What mass of rock could I bring and still achieve escape velocity? When the Earth was whole, the escape velocity was eleven point two kilometers per second. Given the approximate material losses of planet Earth, I estimated it was maybe eight to eight and a half kilometers per second presently. I did a back of the envelope calculation as to how much thrust I could generate. Based on that, I guessed I could carry maybe five hundred kilograms of rock.
How much would the casting away of a stone alter my trajectory. Well, the more rock I carried, the less it would affect my movement. Crap. I hated Sir Isaac Newton right about then. He was way too rigid. Of course, it depended on how hard I threw the rock away. I couldn’t make a rail gun and launch them near the speed of light. If I could, then I could zip around pretty well, until I ran out of rocks.
Flames: Galaxy On Fire, Book 2 Page 5
