He shook his head a few times, trying to clear it and the ringing resolved into a warbling cry. Leah.
“God, I love it when they fight,” Frost sighed somewhere behind him.
The satisfaction in Frost’s voice turned Eric’s stomach and lit something dark deep in his soul. As Eric struggled to sit up, Frost slapped Leah to shut her up. Insensate, she put up little resistance as a naked Frost wrestled her face down. The world spun as Eric staggered to his feet.
“I knew you missed me,” Frost sighed, either unaware or ignoring Eric’s movement.
Moments later the man grunted when Eric’s elbow crashed into the side of his head. Grabbing the rapist by the shoulders, Eric heaved, pulling Frost off Leah. The sight of her, bloody handprints across her hips, hair splayed out as she looked wide-eyed over her shoulder at him, pupils pinpricks from fear, etched itself into his memory.
White hot agony shot up Eric’s leg. Air rushed from his lungs in a howl of pain as he toppled over from Frost’s kick to his knee. Grabbing at the side of the bunk, he managed to get half way standing when Frost kicked him in the ribs. Something popped. Frost bounced his head off the bunk’s frame with a fist.
“Fucking white knights,” Frost spat, kicking him again. “Couldn’t leave it alone, could you? Couldn’t just walk away?” Hands grabbed him and the cell heaved and rolled as Frost tossed him against Svoboda’s rack. Hands tugged at his legs and he dimly heard fabric ripping. “You wanted it, you’re going to get it.” Eric struggled to rise, but a hand grabbed the back of his head and pressed his face into the mattress. Stars swarmed as he fought to get air. Eric felt Frost press up against him as darkness enveloped him.
Noise boomed in his ears, resolving into a song he vaguely associated with his parents. Eric felt more than heard noise of a sizable starship drive. It was dark. He heard a click, and light spilled into the cramped room he was in. His father knelt, dropping several bottles of water and protein bars at his feet.
“Love, sixty seconds,” Eric heard his mother say from outside the closet.
“I know,” Father said, his features hardening. “Eric, you remember what we talked about, right? No matter what you hear, stay quiet and do not come out of the closet. Do not open the stateroom door. If we don’t come back, the fox will save you when he gets here.”
“Thirty seconds.”
“I heard you,” Father growled in annoyance as he stood and pulled a magazine from the vest he wore. “Son, grow up strong. Live with honor, protect the weak, punish the wicked.” The door closed and darkness hid Eric’s confused face. He heard metallic clacking outside the closet the adult in him knew were the sounds of slides being racked and bolts riding home on full chambers.
“Eric, we love you,” he heard Mother say right before the deck under him bucked and the sound of the drive stopped.
“God, forgive us,” Father muttered.
The stateroom door opened, and as it cycled shut, he heard his parents yell, “Liberty or death!”
The sound of automatic gunfire jolted him awake. Live with honor. Blood coated the mattress before him. He was slumped against Svoboda’s bunk. Protect the weak. He hurt. Every breath brought pinching agony. Pressed against the floor, his battered knee screamed. He couldn’t feel his face and could taste only blood. Everything that wasn’t numb echoed cries of pain. Frost had violated him in a way Doctor Isaacs couldn’t. The world wavered, threatening to fade back to darkness again. Punish the wicked.
“Don’t worry,” Eric heard Frost say behind him. “I washed it off.” Punish the wicked. Leah’s mewling carried over Frost’s grunts. Punish. Eric weakly rolled to a sitting position on the floor. The. The sight of Frost on top of Leah sent a shiver through him. With every thrust the anger flooding his vision beat a deeper crimson. Wicked. Eric’s hands closed on the discarded set of orange coveralls on the floor next to him. Shifting to get his good leg under him, he wound the fabric around his hands.
Launching forward, Eric looped the fabric around Frost’s neck before the man could react. Eric heaved back. Chaos followed, with grunts and limbs flailing as the pair rolled off onto the floor. The lancing agony from his injured knee only enraged him further. Despite Frost’s flailing, Eric managed to stay on top. Frost tried to rise, but Eric inched his good knee up between the man’s shoulder blades and leaned back, pulling with everything he had.
Eric closed his eyes, trying to muster whatever strength he could find to keep pulling. Seconds passed as Frost’s struggles weakened. Live with honor. Eric heard a woman sob. Protect the weak. Frost had gone limp some time ago. Punish the wicked. Sometime after Frost had gone limp, the surge of adrenaline broke like a fever, leaving him weak and shaky.
“Eric,” Leah said, “He’s dead.”
Eric opened his eyes. Frost’s face, craned to the side, looked bloated, purple. The man’s eyes were open, stained red from broken blood vessels, and unmoving. Eric slumped forward and unwound the bloody cloth from his fists. Panting, he dragged himself onto Svoboda’s rack.
Fuck you, you piece of shit. Fuck you, and fuck this place. Eric blinked as realization dawned on him. And screw the Protectorate shitheads who made this possible. No, the Fortune was more my home than the Protectorate ever could be.
“What are you doing?” Leah asked as Eric took Frost’s bloody coveralls.
I’m a pirate. We keep what we kill.
He opened his mouth to say just that when the door cycled open. Eric raised his hands weakly as a half dozen guards piled into the room.
“Nice of you to show up late to the party, assholes,” he growled.
An energy rifle pulsed in response and the world dropped away beneath him.
Interrogation
He was dimly aware of a rhythmic hum, one so deep it was felt more than heard. His entire body ached, but he was warm, almost hot, and weightless. Thought moved languidly, like he the border between sleep and waking. Something was in his mouth and he couldn’t move or open his eyes. Even though logic told him he should be panicking, Eric found himself oddly at peace.
Sometime later the hum changed, the low end dissipated leaving a higher pitched faint whine he couldn’t hear before. A chill began to spread from the crown of his head. He still couldn’t move. The line of cold inched downward followed by a progressive feeling of weight. A quick riot of sound surprised him before he realized it was liquid draining from his ears. When he could hear again, the whine had quieted to a nearly imperceptible level that echoed slightly.
Hollow? I’m in some sort of tube? Something rubbery pulled up against his armpits as the chill dragged past his chest. Where the hell am I?
Panic crept about at the edges as the line dropped further and paused even with the top of his toes. With a loud metallic whump, the last of the warm liquid vanished leaving him hanging limply from whatever the two rubbery supports were under his arms.
An unfamiliar voice echoed up from below, “I must protest, this is a grievous violation of medical ethics.”
“Duly noted, Doctor. Stand aside.”
That voice. Hettinger.
“My oath prevents me from allowing you to harm my patient, Major.”
“Also noted and easily resolved. Once your people have finished, this man is no longer your patient.”
“That’s preposterous, do you even have anyone rated to provide care for someone in his state?”
“Doctor Barnes, perhaps you should speak with our Director, Doctor Isaacs. I believe her qualifications supersede your own.”
Sharp pain from his side distracted Eric from the conversation and buzzing filled his ears. Gloved hands guided his body as they lowered him onto an unseen surface. Numerous sharp but fleeting stings kissed his arms and wrists. A familiar female voice pierced the receding buzz.
“Doctor Barnes, I assure you I am more than qualified to care for your patient. I ran a nano-med level facility before joining the Provost.”
Doctor Barnes made a non-committal grunt. “This whole sit
uation is still highly unusual.”
“I apologize, Doctor. We had little choice, both then and now. The medical facility in the detention zone did not present the best option to treat his injuries.”
“I never did find an adequate reason for his injuries in the file provided, Doctor.”
“And you won’t. State security takes precedence.”
“Be that as it may, the injuries he presented with on admission leave little room for the imagination. Multiple blunt trauma to various points on the cranium and thorax, micro-fissures on both orbital bones, malnutrition, mild hypothermia, multiple broken ribs, two fractured pre-molars, a missing molar, massive trauma to the knee, nasal fracturing, concussion, epidural hematoma, defensive wounds on the hands and arms, rectal tearing indicative of forced penetration. His records were remarkably bare. What sort of mad house are you running?”
“The type you are not cleared for, Doctor. What is his status?”
“The nasal fracturing, fissures, damage to the ribs, blunt trauma, and tearing have been repaired. The concussion and the dental issues, corrected. He needs at least another two days in the tank for me to sign off on the hematoma and the rebuild of his knee. Treatment of the hematoma was unexpectedly problematic due to spontaneous spot bleeds.”
“Expected.”
“Expected how?”
“Minor side effect of exposure to certain substances.”
“What substances would that be?”
“Again, you’re not cleared to know, but I’m sure you could figure it out. Your file says you should be bright enough to, anyway.”
“How is interfering with nano-reconstruction minor?”
“Cost-benefit analysis, Doctor Barnes. Nothing more. Do you have anything else we should be aware of?”
“Aside from a complaint to the Ethics board, no.”
Light and melodic, Doctor Isaacs’ laugh sent chills down Eric’s spine. “Do what you feel you must, Doctor Barnes. Do what you must, as do we.” Doctor Barnes grumbled and stomped off. “Major, you have your orders. Once he’s been turned over, you’ll have less than forty-eight hours to get what you can from our friend here before we are forced to present to the judicars. Do I need to stress the importance of what he needs to clarify?”
“No, Ma’am.”
“Good. I have little enough time to waste it playing at niceties with the naïve. Do not needlessly interrupt me again. Get me that information, Drew. You have your orders.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Footsteps led away and a door cycled. Someone wheeled Eric’s gurney into another room.
“Good, thank you, Rob. We’ll finish up here.”
“Anything else, Doctor Barnes?”
“Just the clean-up of the tank room.”
“Roger that, Doctor.”
“Doctor?”
New voice, female.
“Yes, nurse?”
“According to these readings, the paralytics are still active, but he’s conscious. Likely has been for some time.”
“Interesting. Anything else?”
“Everything else is inside parameters.”
“Good, administer the counter-agent, slow dose.”
“Are you sure, Doctor Barnes? Don’t you want security here?”
“Nurse, we have enough chemical restraints in this room that if I can’t deal with him, I doubt adding security personnel to the mix will help.”
A hot sting on Eric’s arm accompanied the chuffing whine of a pneumatic injector. Several seconds passed before the warmth in his arm spread. Eric’s hand jerked as a sense of calm descended over him.
“Relax, you’ve been asleep for quite some time, several weeks. You may experience some nausea, and disorientation as the medications work out of your system. Lack of muscle coordination is very common. I’ve administered some anti-anxiety medication along with the counter-agent to help your transition. When you can, sit up and we can finish the exam.” Something electronic chimed and Doctor Barnes sighed. “Nurse, Doctor Chekta is requesting additional assistance in ward two, low priority. Do you mind seeing what she needs, I can handle this.”
“Not a problem, Doctor.”
Eric struggled to sit up as the nurse left. He was naked, save a white sheet covering him from the waist down.
“Shit,” he groaned, “Feels like I have a hundred kilos sitting on my chest.”
“Paralytics, son. That’s expected,” Doctor Barnes replied. “Now, tell me your name.”
Eric blinked and stared at the older man in the white coat as he fought back sudden nausea. “Eric Friedrich.”
“Good. Citizenship status?”
“Protectorate, I think? I’m pretty sure.”
“Date of birth?”
Eric gave the man a puzzled frown.
“Possibly nothing. Most people are fuzzy about some types of memory recall after the procedures you’ve been through. Will need a few more tests to make sure, but it should only last a few days, tops. Last thing you remember?”
“Before waking up in the tube?”
“Yes, before that.”
“Energy rifle leveled at my face.”
“That explains some of the damage, I suppose. Why the rifle?”
Eric grinned. “I killed a man.” The doctor’s hand slipped into his pocket. “It’s alright, Doc. Frost had it coming.”
“How exactly do you justify killing another human being?” Doctor Barnes asked. Eric could hear the quotes around justify.
“He tried to rape my cellmate. I think I stopped him? Doc, my head hurts. It’s all disjointed.” Dr. Barnes frowned and glanced at the tablet in his hand.
“Sip what’s in the cup in front of you. It’s mostly water, but the paracetamol should help.”
Wobbly, Eric reached for the cup. The doctor waited a few minutes before continuing.
“Now, you think you stopped this Frost from raping your cellmate?”
The question broke open the floodgates and Eric shuddered as the memories fit into place. “No. I didn’t. I mean, I remember what happened now. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t. He knocked me out.” The doctor’s eyebrows rose.
“Do you remember this man forcing himself on you?” Unsure, Eric nodded weakly and rubbed his head. “It sounds like you tried to do the right thing, Eric. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“No, I don’t remember that, Doc. I mean, I guess he could have--” Eric shuddered and gawped. He couldn’t breathe. It was dark, someone was pressing his face against something lined with cloth, a mattress. He tugged with all his strength at the hand at the back of his head, but it wouldn’t move.
Snapping of fingers shattered the illusion. “Eric? Back here, Eric. You tried to do the right thing, Eric. Do you hear me? The right thing. You’ll need counseling, but time will help you come to terms.”
“He did it anyway.”
Doctor Barnes rubbed his forehead and looked at him gravely. “Son, you did more than what most would. You stood up. Fail or not, you tried to stop it.”
“When I woke up the first time, he was raping her.”
“Try not to think about--Wait, the first time? Her? You were kept in co-ed cells?” Shock, confusion, and horror warred across the older man’s expression.
“Co-ed, yeah. He’d knock me out, I’d get back up. Knocked me out twice.”
“I’m not judging, Eric, but why? What motivated you to keep getting back up?”
“I,” Eric sighed as frustration and echoes of anger filtered through him, “I don’t know.” Live with honor, protect the weak, and punish the wicked. Eric shivered at the echo of his father’s voice. “I wasn’t raised to just stand by and let that kind of shit just happen, Doc. I just, I-I got so angry when I couldn’t stop him.”
The doctor nodded, tapping away at his tablet.
“So, murdering this man was an act of hate or vengeance?”
“No, not hate. Not even vengeance. Justice. What kind of person rapes another person? When I woke
up the last time I figured either he died or I did.”
“He died or you. Why you?”
“Because then I,” Eric paused. “Then I would have died with honor.”
The doctor visibly froze.
“Where did you say you were born?”
Eric puzzled over the doctor’s reaction. “I didn’t.”
“Where were you born, then?”
“Protectorate space somewhere. I don’t remember, honestly. Something happened to my parents and I was rescued by pirates. That’s all I know.”
“Pirates?”
Eric sighed, “Yes, pirates. I grew up on the ship you guys just destroyed. Or, I guess, destroyed a few weeks ago.”
“I guess that explains it, then. Sorry, that turn of phrase reminded me of someone I knew when I was younger, that’s all. Look, I have to turn you over to detention now that you’ve checked out. Drink this,” the doctor said. Eric knocked back the offered cup’s flavorless contents and watched the doctor jot more notes into his tablet.
“Doc, I don’t feel too good,” Eric said as his sight blurred a few minutes later and his stomach leaped into his throat.
Doctor Barnes nodded as he laid Eric back on the gurney, “Common side effect of the medication in that last cup. Your body might be healed, but your mind is not. I’ve given you something to help with that. As in all things, Eric, this too shall pass.” The older man shook his head and tapped the tablet’s screen. A door opened moments later.
“He’s ready?”
“Yes, Mr. Hettinger, he’s about as ready as he’s going to get.”
“Good. Thank you for your efforts, Doctor. We’ll take it from here.”
“One thing though, Mr. Hettinger.”
By Dawn's Early Light Page 9
