by Aline Riva
“Only because they forced Lynch into a corner!”
Flynn shook his head.
“No one can force that man to do anything, Kait. You know Lynchie. He did the best thing he could at the time, no one knew this would happen.”
“I still don't feel sorry for them!” she said, “I don't know how you can sympathise with Freedom City after what they've done!”
“I sympathise because they're victims,” Flynn replied, “This was all brought about by their own rising tide of ignorance about cyborgs. That's the sad thing about this – if the government had taken a stronger stance against the anti cyborg movement in the first place, End Cyborg Life never would have come about, that's the bigger picture! And god knows what this will do for Lynch's case...They'll want to come down hard on him now because they have him on terrorist charges – they have a terrorist to make an example of, and I think they'd rather do that than try and diffuse this any other way.”
“Oh no...I hadn't thought of it that way,” Kait replied, as she turned her head and saw Elise standing beside the bar with fear reflecting in her eyes, she reached for her arm.
“Elise, I'm sure they won't harm him please don't think the worst -”
She turned away abruptly and ran from the bar.
“I'll speak to her,” Kait said, but Flynn shook his head.
“We didn't know she was standing there. And she 's already worked it out...leave her for a while, I think she needs to be alone...”
Elise had hurried back up the stairs as she blinked away tears, her heart pounding as she thought of all she had heard – Flynn was right, of course this would make the situation worse for Felix...Freedom City would want to show a harsh deterrent to those attempted to carry out more of these crimes and even though Felix had been changed with stealing cybernetic fluid at a time when the substance was banned, that would make no difference to the outcome, because he had been found guilty of terrorism, which carried the penalty of death...
Elise went into her daughter's bedroom. The light was on and outside the skies were dark, Fi was in her bed sleeping soundly and didn't stir as Elise went over to her table and picked up a handful of coloured pencils and a pad of writing paper.
Then she closed the door behind her, went back down the stairs, out the back door of the pub to where the motor home was parked.
Elise went inside and closed the door behind her, then she looked down the walkway, pausing to admire the luxurious fittings that Felix had spent many years restoring, then she went down to the seating area, sat down and put the paper on the table, took a pencil from the pot and stared at the paper as she tried to drag something out of the back of what was left of the android side of her mind.
The pencil was poised in her hand, its tip resting on the paper as she reached back. Then as she inwardly searched, her hand gripped the pencil harder and the tip snapped. Elise pushed it aside and took another pencil from the pot, looked down at the paper and began to etch what she saw in her mind as shapes and symbols of another language began to translate.
As she completed one row of symbols in bright orange, she snatched up the paper and got up and grabbed a roll of tape and taped the paper to the kitchen cupboard. Then she sat down again, took up another piece of paper, paused for thought,looked to the symbol on the cupboard, then began to draw some more, accessing something ancient, something she knew would make sense one the many thousands of other shapes and patterns were laid out - but she knew she had to keep reaching back, and would still be doing this come morning, then she would lock to the motor home and be back before Fi awoke, and do the same thing again tomorrow night...This was going to take a very long time...
When morning came, after Jekel had taken a shower, he leant heavily on the sink in the bathroom as he looked into the mirror as beyond the closed door he heard Riley speaking to Joy. He felt a sinking, heavy feeling of dread as recalled his third weekly session was soon to begin – more poison in his veins, and he wasn't sure if he could take it, because he looked as if he had been poisoned now – to see his usually healthy and attractive face looking so pale as dark shadows hung under his eyes was a real shock, so too was the fact that his arms were covered in deep bruising and needle marks. The thought ran through his head that he looked like an old world style poster that warned of the dangers of hard drugs...
“I look like shit!” he whispered, and then he picked up his comb, tidied his hair and threw on a clean silken robe – the one from the day before was in the laundry basket, stinking of all the sweat that had poured out of him from his last treatment session.
“I hate this,” he said under his breath as he tied the robe, then he looked again at his reflection, wondering how the hell he could get up on the stage to rehearse, let alone host the festival looking like this...
Jekel left the bathroom, glancing across the bedroom at the line Riley was setting up and in that moment, every healing puncture wound in his arms ached sharply at the thought of going through more of this torture.
“Joy...”
She had just finished changing the sheets, and as she arranged the pillows she looked over at him.
“We're ready for you. Last time this week, Ash.”
“Sorry,” Jekel replied in a hushed voice, “I can't do it. I've had enough.”
Riley exchanged a glance with Joy. Then as Jekel walked over to the bed, he spoke wearily to his wife.
“I don't feel like this treatment will save my life, I feel like it's going to end it instead.”
Riley looked sympathetically to his best friend.
“Ash, we've had this discussion before. Nothing holds a guarantee. But you stand a better chance of surviving the burnout and with less damage when the weak thirty percent of the wiring fails if you have this treatment. Without it, you know the likely outcome. I know this is hard but -”
“I need to host the festival!”
“If you get too ill, you can host it next year, when this is over!” Joy said sharply.
As he stepped closer to the bed he felt utterly confused.
“I may not even have a next year!”
“You've got more chance on this stuff than off it!” she said firmly, “Sorry Ash, but it's true. If you want to survive this is the best way to try and do it. And now you've started on the course, you can't cut it off – all you'll achieve is to make yourself weaker and leave you with no defence when the burn out does happen. Now get on that bed and let Riley hook you up the IV!”
Jekel breathed a heavy sigh and got on to the bed, pushing up his sleeve and looking away as Riley prepped his arm.
“What will it feel like, Blake?” he said quietly, then pain registered on his face as the needle slid into his flesh.
“What do you mean?” Riley asked as he secured the needle and started the IV.
“When the burn out happens... will it hurt, will I pass out... or will I just drop down dead?”
Joy sat down on the edge of the bed and turned towards her husband. Jekel was past shedding tears now, instead he looked stronger, painfully so, determined to do what ever it took, no matter how much he resented the burning pain that was travelling up his arm.
“I don't know,” Riley replied, “Like I said before, the wire is peppered with burn out marks and could snap anywhere along the line. If the burnout is violent it could kill surrounding tissue or take out other wires in addition to the estimated thirty percent we expect you to lose – or it could snap at the base in the cavity and the burnout could do no harm – maybe even killing less than thirty percent of your main wiring, if the Trizinaq has worked enough to cushion the effect of the power flow cut.”
The pain was making his body heat up and his bones ache and Jekel leant back weakly against the pillows as he turned his head and looked at his wife.
“It's not just about the festival,” he said quietly, “The real reason I'm going through this torture is for you and Travis.”
“I know that,” Joy replied, giving his hand a squeeze.
“But I do want to host it this year,” he added, “I have to be there, Joy. That thought is keeping me going, it's something to aim for.”
“And if you stick with the treatment you will get there,” Riley promised him, “You'll have to miss a few rehearsals and you may not be able to host the show without help, but you''ll be there.”
Jekel had started to break out into a sweat as the pain faded out into an uncomfortable heat that played hell with his thermal regulator.
“I use the stealth mode on stage every year, I can't do the act and not vanish a few times....but power drains and weakness can block that.”
“And its going to be a big drain on you this year,” Riley told him.
Jekel closed his eyes as he gave a sigh, thankful the next wave of pain was for now distant as he started to burn up a fever.
“But I'll still be there,” he vowed, then he felt Joy give his hand a reassuring squeeze and he tried to rest and ignore the rising heat that was dampening his hair and making perspiration trickle down his face.
In the run down side of the outskirts of Freedom, where shops and houses lie in part ruin, an under ground tunnel that had been smashed through to lead up into an old row of outwardly derelict shops was the route that two women took as they spoke in low voices, heading for the surface.
“I wasn't expecting the bombs to be that powerful,” said the shorter, blonde woman who looked to her older, darker sister.
“Violet,” said Jasmine, “This project has taken years of planning...do you really think Jet Madison would get us all over here and pool our resources for nothing?”
They stopped walking and Violet looked up at her older sister, who was tall and strong with red hair that tumbled to her shoulders and a hard gleam in her dark eyes. Jasmine looked down at her younger, shorter sister whose pale blonde hair fell to her shoulders as she looked up at her with wide blue eyes.
“Jet loves me,” Jasmine said, “And I have never doubted him and neither should you! He knows what he's doing and remember what he said, about how there can't be change without violence? He's just looking out for all of us – keeping the cyborgs out. It's hard for you to understand, you're five years younger than me, you was just a kid when the androids took over. You don't remember the battle to win Freedom city from the enemy.”
“And I'm not a kid any more!” Violet said angrily, “I just don't get why so many of our own – non cyborgs – had to get hurt.”
“Because the Circle that runs this city needs to learn a hard lesson,” she replied, then she turned away and walked towards the broken wall, and Violet followed her as she stepped through not the back of an old cafe, not daring to ask more because the others were in there, as she thought on all Jasmine had just said and really understood nothing, because her sister seemed to do nothing but quote her boyfriend all the time – Jet Madison, leader of End Cyborg Life...
Then she had joined her in the room with the others, where they sat on chars and leant on what was left of unbroken furniture as Jet stood before them, a man with ice blue eyes and hair that partly shaded his face.
“Late again, little Violet?” he said in a fine, upper class English accent.
She looked at him apologetically as she silently wondered why she had ever ended up in this situation – but her parents had died many years before when the virus first struck, so Jasmine had been left to care for her and as the world played out its battle between the humans and the androids, Jasmine's hatred for cyborgs had been born. Violet understood the group was together to protect humanity, but the more she found out about cyborgs, the less she saw an enemy – although to voice that would have meant a bullet in the head, and one that would most likely come from her own sister, because traitors were not tolerated...
“Sorry,”she said quietly.
“Sorry is a word that rarely covers a genuine apology,” he replied dismissively, “Thousands have said sorry for being a part of the human branch of the UNA, for example. All are most likely pro cyborg sympathisers.”
Then Jet looked to the others.
“Fine result last night, fifty-three dead and more than two hundred injured and a government quaking in its boots. Now we wait to see what their response shall be. Our next move is to send two of our finest to Cyborg Valley in the days leading up to the Firelight Festival – if Lynch isn't dead by then, we take another one of theirs, and hold the cyborg to ransom until the government of Freedom city takes control of the valley once more and executes General Lynch. Those are our terms, or we kill the hostage.”
“Who will the hostage be?”asked Jasmine.
Jet's eyes glittered with malice as he smiled at his lover.
“We're not taking any random cyborg, we're taking their biggest celebrity. Our hostage will be Ashley Jekel the festival host...”
Felix Lynch had not expected to be woken from a sleep he had needed after hours of pain from the chemical burn then after the explosions, he had pounded his fists on the door, yelling to be told what was going on - and had been ignored. More time had passed, night had slid into day and late that morning, after breakfast had not been served, Governor Black had entered his cell, flanked by two armed guards.
Lynch immediately stood up, he was still shirtless, and under the bright light of the cell the flesh in the centre of his chest looked raw and glistening. It was still painful, even the heat of the bright lights and the brief rush of air as the door had opened had hit on raw nerves that silently screamed, but Lynch stood there unflinching, eyes filled with anger that burned like blue fire as he looked to his captor.
“So far I have torture and lack of food to add to the list of complaints when I exercise my legal right to request contact with my sovereign ruler King Steel – all prisoners have a right to contact with their legal defence under the New Freedom City and Cyborg Valley Human Rights Bill, drawn up two years ago by your ruling circle and with Riley present! And my legal defence is Blake Riley!”
Black looked at him doubtfully.
“Riley was present via a poorly connected communications link. He did not sign the bill in person.”
“But it still stands.”
“Since when were you a legal expert, General Lynch?”she demanded.
“I know enough to understand my rights are being violated.”
Black stepped closer, and he saw nothing in her eyes but a look of contempt.
“Last night there were two explosions in the city centre – many killed and scores injured. The terrorist group End Cyborg Life claimed responsibility, stating the reason for the strike was the ruling circle's decision to give liberty to Cyborg Valley – in exchange for you. So now, I'm asking myself – did you willingly make this dangerous journey, knowing you would have to fight against a death sentence, to ensure a free future for your people, or did you do it in collusion with End Cyborg Life to potentially start a war and make yourself a martyr to the cyborg people in the process?”
Lynch laughed bitterly at her suggestion, keeping in mind his reasons for being here – and his choice not to retaliate in the face of any kind of mistreatment, knowing it could have repercussions for the Valley...
“You really are full of shit!” he yelled, “You stupid, power mad creature – what sort of a fucked up theory is that? It could only have come from you, an unbalanced steaming great pile of filth of an idea!”
He had expected another blow to the face, instead, she stepped back as she spoke again.
“You are already facing execution on charges of terrorism, General – pending your appeal, of course. In light of this fact – that you have nothing to lose, I need to find out if my theory is correct...” she looked to the guards, who seized Lynch and turned him around, cuffing his hands before turning him back to face the doorway, “Take him to interrogation,” she added, “We need to get the truth out of this man.”
And as the guards led him out of the cell and down a long, lonely corridor, Lynch kept his gaze fixed ahead, counting his steps as sure as he cou
nted his breaths as he steeled himself to be ready for whatever would happen when he reached interrogation. He was no stranger to pain or torture in his long military career, but because of that he could only be sure of one thing: If he was going to be caused pain, it would be a brand new experience – because it always was – bastards like these always came up with novel ways to hurt others, in new and ingenious and terrible ways...
Jekel was still sleeping after another brutal session of treatment, if that was what could be called – human veins were not designed to take cyborg drugs – they were android based fluids, meant for machinery, not fragile human beings... As Joy sat on the edge of his bed and looked to the needle marks in his arms, she thought back to the nightmare she had suffered the night before:
It was a dream that had not haunted her for many years – she was back in the tower on the day the battle had raged for Freedom City. She was on the ground as the android with the exposed face plate raised its fist to deliver a near fatal, crushing blow that would leave her barely alive and clinging to the name of Murdock as she struggled to hold on. Then she had woken in a cold sweat, turned over and seen Ash beside her, sleeping deeply as fear swallowed her up all over again and she wondered if she was losing him...Her rock in stormy seas, the one man who always pulled her through when all hope seemed lost, was Murdock...But even if he had been here now, even Murdock could not have done a thing to remove the danger that overshadowed their lives as Ash faced a fight he had to take on alone...
That dream had stayed with her all morning, heaping on to her fears for her husband as he had taken another punishing session of treatment. Then he had slept, and now it was time to wake him. Joy's touch was soft as a feather as she brushed his hair out of his eyes and then spoke softly to him:
“Ash, wake up, sweetheart...it's almost noon.”
He slowly opened his eyes and looked up to see her leaning over him, and he smiled.
