by Mari Mancusi
We step out into a long corridor, highly guarded by thumb-sensored doors, seemingly every few feet. This place is more secure than Fort Knox. But Duske's thumb works magic on every lock. Wow, I so have to get a copy of it, no matter what it takes. I consider jumping him now-after all, we are alone-but then reconsider. At present I have no means to get his thumbprint. I must wait for Thom to slip me supplies.
"Where are we going?" I ask, praying this is not some trick-some one-way trip to a high-security prison he plans to throw me in.
"Bunker Twelve," Duske says, stopping in front of a small golf-cart-looking vehicle. "Get in."
I obey, joining him in the cart as he activates the hover controls. Soon we're floating down the corridor at low speed, and about ten minutes later we come to another door. This one's flanked by human guards in addition to thumb-sensor locks.
Duske steps out of the cart, nods to the guards, and waves an identification card at them. They step aside, pressing their thumbs against matching sensors, and Duske does the same with his own. The locks click simultaneously and the door swings open.
We step into a long, featureless hallway, illuminated by dim fluorescent lighting lining the ceiling. I follow Duske down a hall, trying to memorize each twist and turn. The place is like a maze. An industrial catacomb. There are a million doors dotting the myriad hallways.
Finally, we come to a door at the end of one corridor. Duske presses his thumb against the sensor and the door slides open. We step inside, into some sort of prison, though it certainly wouldn't meet Geneva Convention standards. The smell of decay and rot permeates the air, and I have to resist a nearly overwhelming urge to block my nose with my hand. The floor is strewn with debris, and behind each iron-barred cell there's a prisoner, dressed in rags and lying on the ground, covered in her own filth. There are no beds, no toilets, not a single creature comfort to be seen.
But I can't go off on him. I can't sneer and rage and assault him and his government's character. "Where the hell are we?" I demand. "I thought we were going to Moongaze. I really need to get back to Earth, you know."
"All in good time, my dear," Duske says, patting my arm. Then he turns to one of the cells and gestures. "Do you recognize this prisoner?" he asks.
I peer in, unable to stop the gasp escaping my lips as my eyes fall on the woman inside. Glenda. She's barely recognizable as my former yoga teacher back on Earth. Her always lithe frame is now skeletal, her face gaunt, and her eyes blackened. She's shivering in her thin slip dress, and her arms and legs are riddled with pus-filled sores.
Horror slams through my body, and I struggle to keep my composure. So, they didn't kill her. She's been here this whole time. Starved, probably tortured-all for rescuing me. My stomach heaves and
I struggle not to be sick. I turn away, unable to look at her bruised face.
Oh, Glenda, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to suffer like this for me.
"That's ... Glenda," I say, calling upon every molecule of strength inside me to keep up the charade. Every fiber of my body yearns to turn around and attack my host. To kill him for what he's done to this poor woman who only wants to better the world. But I know I can't act now. There are guards milling about, armed with heavy artillery. I have to wait. Bide my time. Play selfish Skye from Earth for a little longer. "That's my yoga instructor back on Earth. What the hell is she doing on Terra?" I ask, turning to Duske, mostly to avoid looking at the disappointment radiating from Glenda's hollow eyes. If only I could send her a signal. Somehow relay to her that I'm only acting. That her sacrifice was not in vain.
Duske shakes his head. "This woman only pretended to be from Earth to lure you into the Dark Siders' trap. She's actually one of the head Eclipsers. She was the one who broke in and attempted to kidnap you that day you left us."
"Really? That was her?" I turn back to throw her my most disgusted look. "So, it's her fault I'm still stuck in Terra? That I was dragged underground to that hell and forced to live with those disgusting mutants?"
Glenda whimpers from inside her cell.
Duske nods. "It is," he says. All her fault." He reaches down, pulling up the hem of his trousers, and produces a knife banded to his ankle. He unsheathes the blade, stands back up, and holds it out to me. "Obviously, she needs to pay for her crimes-for what she did to you." He smiles. "Go ahead. Take this knife and kill her."
I stare at him and then the knife, horrified beyond belief. Oh God, this is like what always happens in the movies; the hero's supposed to prove his loyalty to the villain by killing someone from his own side.
But I can't be that hero! There's no way I can take a knife and slice up an innocent woman-one who risked everything just to save me from my own death. There's just no way! But if I don't, then Duske will doubt my story. He'll likely turn the knife on me instead. If I don't kill Glenda, I'll die. And everyone else will, too. The Dark Siders, the Eclipsers, Dawn.
Oh God, what am I going to do?
I try to swallow, but my throat's too dry. I try to think, try to remember back to the day the Eclipsers told me that Glenda had been captured trying to rescue me. I remember them telling me that to her, the cause was more important than life. Did she still feel that way? Would she want me to kill her if it meant saving the others? How close was she to death already? Would I only be putting her out of her misery?
"Go on," Duske goads smugly. He's obviously enjoying my indecision. "We don't have all day, you know. I mean, you do want to get back to Earth, right?"
I stare at Glenda, cowering in the corner, hands over her head, not so brave anymore. My mind races with indecision. She's weak. It'd take one blow. She'll probably die anyway. She'd want me to do it. I have to do it. The cause is more important than one life. How many times have the Eclipsers told me that?
I grab the knife from Duske, step into the cell, raise the blade. I stand above Glenda's quivering skeletal body, drawing in a breath, garnering every ounce of resolve within me. If only I had Mariah's strength. She'd be able to do this. She'd be able to act decisively if it meant furthering the cause.
-Do it!" Duske commands. "Now!"
But I can't. I just can't. I drop the blade. It clatters uselessly to the stone floor.
"No," I croak, resigning myself to the fact that I've likely signed the death sentence for all of the Dark Siders and myself. But what else can I do? I just don't have it in me to kill a defenseless human being. "I'm sorry. I know you guys have different rules on Terra, but on Earth we don't go around killing helpless women for no reason. Even if she's a criminal, it's murder. And I'm not a murderer."
Duske reaches down and scoops up the blade. He shoves it back into its sheath. "Very well," he says. "Let's head back to the house. We're finished here."
I stare at him, not understanding. "B-but. .." I stammer. "I thought.. ."
Duske shrugs. "It was a test," he says. "If you were really working for the Eclipsers, you would have killed her to keep up your act. That's how they work. Sacrifice one person to save all the others. To them, their silly cause is more important than individual life."
Realization hits me with the force of a ten-ton truck. I made the right decision. My weakness actually proved my character. Of course! He was testing me to see if I acted like Mariah. And she would have done it. By refusing, I've effectively proved myself to be Skye.
"So you ... believe me," I say, praying it's not too good to be true.
"In my position, I'd be a fool to believe anyone," Duske replies. "For all I know-"
A burst of static interrupts him. He reaches down and pulls out his comm device. "Yes, what is it?" he asks impatiently.
"We found the bodies, sir," says the voice on the other end. "Just where you said they'd be."
"Did you test them?"
"Yes. They appear to have beaten to death with a bat that we found discarded a few feet away. Fingerprints on the bat appear to belong to one Mariah Quinn. There are also a few blood splatters on the body that also appear to belong to her
."
Phew. And here I thought Kayce and Hiro were crazy when they insisted on me giving a blood sample before I left.
"Very good," Duske says into the device. He switches it off, shoves it in his back pocket, and turns to me with a thoughtful expression on his face. "You're either telling the truth," he says, "or you're really, really clever." He shrugs. "I guess in the end it makes no difference."
"I'm telling the truth. I swear to God," I say. "Please, just let me go back to Earth. I can't take this anymore."
Duske frowns. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Sister," he says. "Even if I do believe you, which I'm not saying I necessarily do, nothing else has changed. I still need you to speak about Earth at one of my seminars. Only then can I allow you to return."
"Oh yeah," I say. "And you're still going to give me a million dollars, right?" I try not to grimace as I ask the question. Is it possible to believe someone would actually be so shallow? To be more concerned with her
burgeoning bank account and free trip back to Earth than the plight of the poor woman languishing in this cell? The plight of the people down in Stratum 2?
Of course it's possible, I realize, feeling a bit sick to my stomach at the thought. In fact, it's not only possible, but exactly how I had been acting only days before. Imagine what Dawn must have thought of me, those first days in Terra. For him to have to stand by and witness the only woman who had the power to save his people prattle on about a meaningless video game and a shallow, pointless life on another plane of existence. Refusing to step up to the plate, face her destiny, and do something meaningful with the life she'd been given. It must have been completely unbearable. No wonder he'd been so hesitant to let me into his life. Into his heart. I must have come off as the most selfish bitch in the universe.
Well, no more. From now on I'm promising to live my life for a higher purpose. Even if that purpose ends up hastening my ultimate demise. Whether I was born Mariah or Skye, right now people are depending on me. I'm holding thousands of lives in my hands. And I can't turn my back. No matter what the danger to my personal self.
But Duske can't know this. He has to see Skye--greedy, one-track-minded Skye.
"'Cause, like, a million dollars would totally rock," I add. "I can buy this apartment I've been eyeing and stop paying my bloodsucking landlord." I flash Duske my most guileless grin. "How awesome would that be?"
Duske smiles and pats me on the back-as if I'm some silly child he can patronize. Perfect. I've got him completely buying this act. "Truly awesome," he returns. And of course you will get your money. As soon as you take part in the presentation."
We walk out of the cell. I try to block out Glenda's whimpers. I wish I could do something to help her. But at least she's alive. I only wish there was some way to relay a message to her: Just hold on a little longer and we'll get you out.
We head back to the main house. As we're walking down a hallway, we come across Thom, heading in the other direction. He's looking down at a list in his hands and slams into me, as if he hadn't been looking where he was going. I fall backward, as planned, and he reaches down to pull me to my feet.
"Watch where you're going," I grumble.
"I am so sorry, Sister," Thorn says, brushing me off.
"Yes, yes. Be more careful, Brother Thom," Duske interrupts. But not before Thom manages to press a small object into my hand. He continues on and I slip the object into my pocket. It's what I need to complete my mission. A razor.
At first I'd been horrified when they told me the plan. Me, cut off a guy's thumb? But them they'd said I only needed the print. That was gruesome, but more manageable. I didn't want to think of anyone-even Duske-running around with a bloody stump.
"Are you taking me to my room?" I ask. "The one I was supposed to stay in that first day?"
Duske nods. "Of course. Then you'll have a chance to bathe and change."
"Thank God for that." I scowl down at my outfit. "This thing stinks to high heaven."
"And if you like, I can make a reservation at the Park Terrace for this evening," Duske continues. "Of course, it's last minute and they are usually at capacity, but I'm sure I could pull a few strings."
"Sounds like a plan." I throw him a grin. "Thank you so much for taking me back. I owe you more than I can possibly say."
"It's my pleasure. I'm just sorry you had to spend time with those barbarians down below," Duske says, his voice getting a sudden soothing, seductive tone. "Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your room."
I draw in a breath and finger the razor in my pocket. God, I hope this works. It has to. There's no plan B.
We arrive at my room a few moments later. It's just as I left it. All perfect and princess like with its canopy bed and big-screen TV I can't believe this is just a spare bedroom to someone like Duske while the people down below live like rats. Maybe he does deserve whole digits cut off his hand.
I force thoughts of injustice from my head and concentrate on my mission, sending up a prayer to whatever Terran gods are listening that that this will actually work. It seemed so perfect while discussing it down in the safety of Eclipser headquarters. Now it seems impossible. Crazy, even. How the hell am I going to pull this off?
I step inside the room, my heart pounding in my chest. Duske hovers at the door. I frown. I need to get him inside and in private if this plan is going to work.
"So, um, is this it?" I ask, swaying my body slightly from side to side. "Are you going to go off into that big house of yours and leave me all alone now?" The forwardness feels out of character, but I pray Duske lives up to his sleazy leanings and gives in to his lust.
Duske raises an eyebrow, interest and confusion washing over his face. He's not sure where I'm going with this line of questioning, but he's not shutting me out, either. That's a start. "Well, I figured you'd want a shower," he says hesitantly. "To freshen up before dinner."
I shrug and wander over to the bed, slowly brushing the pastel-colored comforter with my hand. "Yeah, I suppose I'd like to get clean-eventually," I say, throwing him a glance past lowered eyelids. I bat my lashes once, hoping it's not overkill. But the hungry look on Duske's face makes me realize that I've hit my mark. He's wanted Mariah back for a long time, and now he's thinking he may finally have his chance.
It won't play out exactly as he hopes.
"Is there ... something you require?" he asks, stepping into the room. Yes. He's taken the bait. Now it's time to move in for the kill. Here goes nothing.
"Require?" I repeat, cocking my head to one side. I catch his eyes with my own wide, innocent ones. "I'm not sure about that. But there is something that I ... want." The words sound so cheesy coming from my lips. Will he buy them? I suck in a breath, waiting for his reaction.
Duske steps forward, positioning himself so he's only inches away from me. Oh yeah, baby. Come to Mama. I let out my breath, not sure why I'd been so worried. Of course he'd go for my ploy. He thinks he has me brainwashed. He thinks he has the upper hand in this situation. Why not take advantage of sweet little lost me?
"Yes, my lady?" he asks gallantly. "What is it that you want? Be it half my kingdom," he jokes, bowing low. I can't help feeling mocked. "You shall have it."
Yuck. He's so cheesy I'm suddenly in dire need of crackers. But I smile. "Forget the kingdom," I say saucily. "I just want you."
"Good," he says with a toothy grin. He reaches up to trail a hand down my cheek. "Because I didn't really mean it about the kingdom."
Of course you didn't, buster. But f have a few jokes of my own up my sleeve. You're going to love them. Time for phase two.
I stand on my tiptoes to press my lips against his. His mouth is cold and clammy. Disgusting. He responds to my advance, however, flicking his tongue at my lips. It's like being kissed by a snake, and I have to resist the urge to jerk away and ruin everything. I remind myself that this slimy kiss is for all the people of the Dark Side.
I part my lips, allowing his slithering tongue entrance. He gr
oans and presses his body against me, pawing my breasts. So much for foreplay with this guy, I guess. At least he's going for it. I love that at the end of the day, evil government leader or no, he's still a man and thus a slave to his penis.
His squeezes my breast as if he's a quarterback grabbing a football, and I realize it's time to make my move before I end up throwing up all over him in disgust. I lower myself to my knees and slowly begin to unzip his pants. He moans in delight.
"Wait," I say. "We'd better close the door."
He agrees, shuffling over and slamming it shut. He presses his thumb against the sensor to lock it up from the inside. "There," he says. "Now no one can disturb us."
"Excellent," I say, though not for the reason he assumes. I smile coyly and beckon him back to me. He complies, of course, eager for his impending blow job.
Which, he doesn't yet realize, is really going to blow, big time.
I pull his pants down to his ankles, leaving him fully exposed. Then I rise to my feet and kiss him again, pressing my body against his. He nibbles like a mouse at my lips. I draw in a breath, tensing my body for action.
As he leans forward to deepen the kiss, I bring up my knee and slam it as hard as I can into his groin. He doubles over in a convoluted mixture of shock and pain. I follow with an uppercut to his jaw and his head flails backward. He trips over his pulled-down pants and crashes to the floor. I slam my heel into his stomach, and he bellows in rage. Luckily, as he so proudly told me during my first visit here, the walls are soundproof.
I grab a vase off the dresser, ready to slam it over his head and render him unconscious. He's too quick, rolling to one side to avoid the blow. He grabs my ankle and pulls it out from under me, knocking me onto my ass. Before I can scramble to my feet, he's whipped out his knife. My element of surprise is gone. He's ready now. It'll be a fair fight from here on out. I hope the preliminary injuries slow him a bit; otherwise I'm outmatched.
