The Meat Market (Jonathan Harkon Adventures Book 1)

by James Chalk

  The flight was short and then I felt hands hoisting me up by my armpits and dragging me along. I spoke out, offering to walk if they would release my feet, but there was no response. I was dragged up and down stairs with many turns and straight stretches. Eventually we came to a stop, and I heard the sharp rap of knuckles on wood, followed by a crisp, “Enter.”

  I was dragged forward a few steps. The crisp voice spoke again, “Excellent Captain Kruger! Please convey my compliments to your security team. You are dismissed. You may release the prisoner on your way out.”

  I heard the snick of a utility knife locking open and felt him cutting the bonds at my ankle and then my wrist. I reached up and removed the bag, willing my pupils to contract so I would not suffer temporary light-blindness. My eyes cast about trying to count adversaries and learn their positions, but that didn’t last long. The first person I saw was Carla and I kind of got stuck. She looked breathtaking and my eyes refused to move on.

  She was dressed, or perhaps wrapped is a better word, in a black gown that was sheer and silken with plunging neckline and low cut back. The material fell across her flat stomach and on down revealing the prominent bones of her hips, it tightly clung to her legs restricting them on the way to drag on the floor despite six-inch heels. Wild, curly hair framed her face, but revealed her ears and neck, each adorned in jewels. The earrings were exquisite in their simple elegance, short dangling chains of faceted diamonds. The matching necklace was nothing less than spectacular, wrapping her neck and draping her collarbones and upper chest in a waterfall of sparkling diamond facets, before flowing over and down deep into the cleavage of her ample bosom. Her lips were set in a grim line, and her eyes… Well, her eyes were defeated. The confident mischievous sparkle was gone, replaced by a hopeless stare, full of fear and despair.

  My heart exploded and then coalesced around a hard knot of rage. My head whipped around, searching for the man who haunted Carla’s eyes. Murder, justice, retribution, whatever you want to call it - that was my plan. I would kill him with my bare hands. My eyes found him standing behind a large, wooden desk across the room. He was holding a flechette pistol pointed at my chest. Even so, I was beginning to lunge at him when he shook his head and said, “Now, now, you wouldn’t want to ruin the lady’s dress with your blood, would you Mr. Harkon? Or do you prefer Prince Jonathan?”

  That stopped me dead. Speechless, I stared at him as he began to chuckle.

  “You didn’t really believe you could remain anonymous after creating so much trouble for me here on Sanctity, did you?” Father Timothy laughed.

  He didn’t look like a priest anymore. He wore a Colonel’s dress uniform. His dark-blue jacket and pants richly contrasted against red, leg stripes and sash. All of his buttons and the jacket’s epaulettes were festooned in gold. Disdaining the practice of displaying service ribbons and medals, his chest remained unadorned. Instead a crisp, starched, field of blue covered the blackness of his heart. A heart I wanted to rip out and squeeze, only now, I really needed to know how he knew who I was!

  “I’m afraid you have interrupted at an inconvenient time. You are rather good at that, aren’t you, Your Highness? My darling Carla and I were just on our way to greet our guests for dinner. We are having a little going-away party. Just my closest officers and their consorts of course, nevertheless it wouldn’t due to keep them waiting. We all have quite a busy day tomorrow. Most of us are leaving, you see. Shipping out. Not you though, Jonny. I’m afraid you won’t be coming along,” he said and then laughed again.

  Coming around from behind his desk, flechette pistol never wavering off its target, the Colonel took Carla by the elbow and guided her toward the door. Before exiting, he said to me, “You have been a royal pain in my arse, Jonathan Harkon. And yes, the pun was intended,” he chuckled more.

  “However tonight, as befits your royal status, you will be my honored guest. You may enjoy the full use of all of the luxuries here in my private apartment. I just ask that you not attempt to open any doors that do not automatically respond to you. That would not be a healthy choice on your part,” he said, pausing to give me a hard stare.

  “Your room is the first on the left down this hallway. You may avail yourself of my private dining room, if you wish. Please use the auto-valet in your room, unless nudity is your preference.”

  He laughed loudly and then abruptly his demeanor changed from jovial to harsh. His brows furrowed and his jaw tightened. His cold, almost colorless eyes stared into mine. After a long, silent pause, he hissed, “Did you know that, because of you, my business is being forced to relocate off Sanctity?”

  When I did not respond, he continued in a lighter tone, “I’m afraid that Father Timothy will have to die in a terrible fire here on his estate!” His face cleared into a satisfied smile.

  After another short pause, he cocked his head to the side and in a harsh whisper said, “Don’t worry Prince Jonny. While I’m touched by your concern, it is misplaced. I won’t really die. That will be you playing the good father!” Barking another laugh, Colonel Leakey left the room with Carla in tow. The door sealed behind him with a hiss and a thunk.

  I stepped up to the door but it didn’t respond to me. There was no obvious, manual method to open it. I headed for my ‘room.’ On the way, I noticed the beautiful, intricate carvings and inlays on the apartment’s authentic wooden walls. A close look revealed that the carvings were of naked people, and some animals, performing all kinds of acts of sexuality and violence. Some of the scenes were quite disturbing, many involving sadistic brutality toward women and boys.

  After a couple of minutes looking at the perverse carvings, I stopped myself and banished them from my thoughts. I needed to look around the apartment and decide whether to attempt an escape, or remain a prisoner. Each option had pros and cons. I had found Carla and I had access to Father Timothy’s (oops I mean Colonel Leakey’s) rooms. It would not take very long to generate new nanobots and disappear. But what would happen when the Colonel got back? Would I get an opportunity to rescue Carla, or would he guard her more fiercely?

  I decided to keep my options open. I would reactivate my mimetic-camouflage, but leave myself visible. I would use the auto-valet and get some clothes on. I could always ditch the clothes and disappear later. So, first some clothes, then search the apartment, then save Carla, and then get the fuck out of Dodge! No problem, other than not having a fucking plan.

  The apartment was exquisite, filled with lustrous dark woods and leather furnishings. It managed to be both luxurious and spartan. My bedroom was tastefully decorated in a masculine style. It was dominated by a large bed, but also had a desk with chair, and a seating area with a low plush couch and coffee table. The bathroom was large and modern with lots of mirrors and glass. The walls and floor were lined with what looked shockingly like real marble, an extremely expensive and decadent luxury.

  The large main room was decorated primarily as an office, but included a couch and pair of wing-chairs in front of a lit fireplace. Real wood burned within the hearth. I was horrified! But why should that have surprised me after witnessing the rape and abuse of babies?

  To the left of the desk was a doorway that led into a large circular dining room. The walls were lined with more of the intricate sado-sexual carvings. The room was filled with an enormous, circular dining table that looked like it was fashioned from more real marble. An intricate, round carpet lay beneath, covering the floor in a thick cushion of colors. Like the walls, the carpet was decorated with scenes of depravity and lust. Only these were in vivid, natural colors.

  I stepped into the dining room and a service-robot stepped forward from a recess in the wall. Its humanoid figure and face was blank, lacking the distinguishing features of a real human. It lent an eerie surreality to the moment as it snapped to attention and said, “Good evening, Your Highness. My name is James. How may I be of assistance? We have a wonderful brochette of beef, or might I suggest the Enceladusian sea bass. A new shipment f
rom Saturn arrived this morning.”

  I replied, “Uh, no thanks.” Not one of my finer moments of eloquence.

  The robot rolled right on, “Perhaps a filet mignon made from fresh kangaroo, straight from the Martian Outback…”

  I really did need food, especially at the rate I was burning through nanobots. Making new ones takes fuel; matter and energy must be replenished. You can’t argue with the rules of physics! I ultimately ordered a large, vat-grown steak and a baked potato. James was appalled and offered to substitute ‘real’ steaks from a local farm, but I refused. I certainly wasn’t going to eat some poor, domestic animal. Vat-grown tastes just as good (better, if you ask me) and there’s no ethical conflict when you eat it.

  After dinner I attempted to enter the other rooms in the apartment, but the doors would not open. I resolved to wait for Carla and the Colonel to return before I tried anything that could set off his security. I occupied my time searching the spaces available to me for anything that might be useful, and for a way out. I found nothing obvious, but by careful inspection outside the visible range of the electromagnetic spectrum, I was able to learn the location in the wall for the door control mechanisms. It’s a good thing too, because after I returned to my room, the door locked and would not reopen. I was analyzing the room’s electrical pathways when I heard them returning.

  I watched them through the wall and door. Thermal imaging only displayed red and yellow humanoid blobs, while the higher frequency displays just looked like person-shaped, twinkling clouds. Frustrated by my inability to discern detail, I switched to animation mode. Realistic images formed inside the occipital lobe of my brain, combining what I was ‘seeing’ with my memories of their appearances.

  The Colonel was speaking, so I cranked my ears up a little to hear him. “… a very exciting colony. You will love it there. We have a magnificent penthouse apartment, with unobstructed views in all directions. If you like, you may redecorate to suit your taste. I want you to be happy. This is to be our home together. Do you think…”

  His voice dropped off as he noticed her inattention. She was staring at my door.

  In a quiet voice that did little to hide his ire, he launched into a rant that turned my spine to ice. “Accept your fate my dear. There is no going back. You will be mine. You are mine! Your naked prince will not be riding to your rescue. He and his family have outlived their time. Their power is over in the solar system. His mother can not defend Harkon Palace forever. Soon it will fall and the foolish rebels will take her head. Really, it is quite a shame. Queen Harkon is such a lovely woman. As a matter of fact, my dear, she looks quite a bit like you. I would love to tame her.” He paused, staring down at her trembling face, now turned up toward his.

  “Have no fear, darling, I am quite content with you. His mother and the rest of her brood are doomed. And when the great family Harkon is no more, I will have three-billion new rubes to exploit. It is a pity Prince Jonny will not be around to witness her demise! However, isn’t it especially delicious that you, my love, have delivered him to me? I shall consider it an engagement gift and will always treasure the memory of his slow painful death,” he hissed, and then leaned in to steal a kiss. Carla jerked away, whirled about, and rushed into her room. I could hear her quiet sobs from behind her closed door.

  Colonel Leakey straightened his uniform and then, with his back ramrod straight and hands clenched, walked slowly out of my sight towards his own room. I listened while he entered and began to perform his ablutions. Carla’s crying starkly contrasted with the mundane sounds coming from the Colonel’s bedroom. It was hard, but I restrained myself and waited. Soon, Carla’s crying faded and I could hear the rustling of fabric. Meanwhile, from the Colonel’s room, the sound of snoring began. Still I waited…

  03:30 is the ideal time for a night raid. Most everyone will be sound asleep, unlikely to respond alertly or in time. I seriously considered slipping into the Colonel’s room to end his loathsome existence. I wish I had.

  From the perspective of a nanobot, there is really very little difference between a human nervous system and an electronic control. Both are all about electrons moving along pathways. The steak had replenished my stores of raw material, so it was easy to generate enough nanobots to fritz-out the door control. Nanobots are really small. Discharged from my thumb as I pressed it to the wall, they just slipped right into the system and began to disrupt it. The door hissed open. Slipping out of my clothes, I faded into invisibility and then left the room.

  I stood outside Carla’s door and listened. Gentle breathing sounds came from her room and I could still hear the Colonel snoring away down the hall. Pulling the same nano-trick, I entered Carla’s room and closed the door behind me.

  Her room had the same basic layout as mine, but instead of leather and wood, it was all fabrics and frilly cushions. The prints were patterned in lovely, flowery pinks and yellows. Completely absent was the sado-sexual imagery found throughout the rest of the apartment. Positioned against the far wall was a large canopy bed. Carla was lying beneath her bedcovers, staring at the ceiling with slow, silent tears seeping from the corners of her eyes.

  I crossed over to the side of her bed and dropped my camouflage while gently placing a finger to her lips and whispering, “Shh.”

  Startled, she gasped and sat up. Panic and relief went to war across her face. Relief won out as she threw her arms around me. “Thank God!” she sobbed into my neck.

  The tears on her cheek were wet against my skin. Warm breath tickled the hairs at the nape of my neck. Delicious prickling waves ran down the surface of my arms and spine. Suddenly it was difficult to focus on the rescue. Pressing her lips up to my ear, she said, “I knew you’d twig for me. I just knew it.”

  The bedcovers had slipped down and her naked torso was pressed against me. I could feel her nipples hardening against my bare skin. Despite my honorable intentions, my penis started to respond in kind. Her head shifted over, lips moving toward mine, eyes sharing something, something special, something urgent.

  Her lips were soft and dry against mine. At first just a brush, and then our mouths crushed together. I tasted her sweet tongue caressing mine. The sensation drove straight through me, swelling my organ as if I would soon burst. I gasped and pulled away.

  “Carla, I’ve come to rescue you, not ravage you,” I sighed halfheartedly. Then, with more conviction, I said, “We must go before the Colonel catches us! I’m so glad you are still alive! I thought you were dead and then I found out that…”

  I interrupted myself, “Has he harmed you?”

  She was still too close for me to think, especially with my arm squished in the valley between her perfect breasts. The electric touch of her breath in my ear almost kept me from hearing her reply, “The wank’s all loved-up over me. He doesn’t hurt me or make me…grode. But…but, he forces me to watch… He…he gets a rocket from hurting people.”

  The strange vernacular was hard to process and there was really very little blood left for my head. Before I could work it out, she stood, pressing the length of her body against mine. The rest of the blood plunged downward as her nails trailed across my back and shoulders.

  “Really, we should go now,” I gasped.

  Her face tilted up and I brought mine to hers. Our mouths sealed and our tongues resumed their caress. My hands found her spine, traced their way down to the curve at the base, and then cupped her luscious buttocks. I pulled her closer. My penis throbbed, pulsing against the flat of her abdomen. She moaned into my mouth and the door to the room hissed open.

  The Colonel was incensed. Rage inflamed his features as he stormed into the room. He was flanked by two armed soldiers, whose weapons were pointed at us both. I feared if I tried anything, Carla could be killed. The Colonel backhanded Carla across the face, knocking her onto the bed. My hand came up automatically to return the blow, but he grabbed it and suddenly I was on my knees in agony.

  “You dare to dishonor my consort? In my own ho
me, after I have shown you such gracious hospitality? I will kill you now,” he spat, pressing his palms to my temples. The agony increased ten-fold and I was on my back convulsing.

  Carla was on her knees, clinging to the Colonel’s leg, crying and begging for mercy, “Spare him, my lord, spare him! I will do anything. It was just dopy gropy! Nothing sparky, really. Please, just spare him. I…I will…consent.”

  At that, the pain stopped. I tried to get up, but the Colonel kicked me in the head and the lights went out.

  Chapter 12

  The Meat Factory

  “Destiny has two ways of crushing us -- by refusing our wishes and by fulfilling them.” - Henri Frédéric Amiel

  “I do not know beneath what sky nor on what seas shall be thy fate; I only know it shall be high, I only know it shall be great.” - Richard Hovey

  “No man or woman born, coward or brave, can shun his destiny.” - Homer, The Iliad

  *******

  I awakened in bed. I was back in the Colonel’s guest room. Two armed soldiers, who seemed to be in competition for the most disdainful sneer, flanked the broken door. Also standing in the room was a familiar and unwelcome face. Harvey, the Bishop’s gigantic bodyguard assistant, was pointing an enormous shotgun at me. I sat up slowly, hands raised.

  “Hello, Harvey,” I stammered. “Uh, I’m sorry about stunning you.”

  Harvey barked a short laugh. His shotgun never wavered off its target as he replied in his soft, high voice, “Good morning, your highneth. Pleathe arithe and attire yourthelf. Colonel Leakey will be here thortly.”

  I slid out of bed and crossed to the table where my clothes from the past night were neatly folded and stacked. As I moved, both soldiers tensed and raised their weapons, tracking me. Harvey stepped back out of my reach. Clearly everyone had been briefed about my combat skills, and they were taking no chances. I slipped into the clothes, noting as the shirt went over my head, that my temples were sore and tender. I wondered how long I had been out, and I thought about how the Colonel’s attack must have caused a lot of internal damage if my nanobots hadn’t had the chance to repair the skin.