Pietas smiled. Good.
"How long you been out of stasis?"
He tried to wet his lips, but could not. His first attempt to speak came out a croak, and he tried again. "Never."
"What, they've had you in there all this time, not in stasis?"
"Yes."
"And you just now got around to communicating?"
"Not esper."
"Not a whisper?"
Pietas repeated the words, without volume.
"All right, wait a minute, Ultra. I'm gonna move some stuff in here. I can't hear you, so I'm gonna sit closer to your pod."
"Not! Mine!" The shouted words started him wheezing, which made him begin coughing, which brought blood into his throat. Pietas gagged, but then realized the blood wet his throat and tongue. He coughed, gagged, controlled the reflex and made himself cough until the thirst subsided.
He must have breath like the grave.
The ghost waited till the coughing and gagging subsided. "I'm not askin' if you're all right. But, man! I dunno how you bear being locked in there."
"No choice," he croaked.
"Okay, I know you don't want me sitting closer to your pod, but I--"
"Not--" He sucked in a breath. "Mine."
"Oh, gotcha! It's not 'your' pod. You ain't claimin' that hole."
"Yes."
"Okay, now why didn't you yell for help?"
Because he would beg humans for nothing. Ever. Because he was an Ultra. Because he would rather die endless deaths than admit he needed anyone's help. Pietas coughed and summed that up in two words. "Not weak."
"Not weak? Oh, I get it. Yelling for help is weak and you Ultras are all 'we're too big and bad to yell for help.' Uh huh. Yeah, lemme tell you. Been me in there, I'd have been screamin' and thrashin' till those suckers got me out."
"Discipline."
"Discipline? Hah! I'd have lost it. How come you didn't use ESP and call your kind to come get you?"
"Not esper."
"Esper. Oh... esper! You mean ESP. No telepathy? I thought you all had that."
"No."
"Guess it would've been handy, huh? Well, if you'd tried to talk, maybe they'd have done worse."
"Not afraid of pain." It came out less than a whisper, but Pietas had no energy to repeat so many words.
"Listen up. Here's the thing. I'm gonna try to hear you best I can, but this pod is steel and copper. It's hard to hear. I know it hurts to talk, so here's what we're gonna do. If I don't understand, I'll try to guess. I start to get the idea, you say something doesn't need much air. There is air in there, isn't there?"
The ghost's concern in the last question took him by surprise. A human, worried about him?
The first few hours in the pod, Pietas had tested every aspect of escape, taking note of the air supply and lack of hydration. He'd remained still once he realized they metered the air. The fury of being held captive, by humans no less, had subsided into resolve to endure. That endurance gave way to the most elaborate revenge fantasies he'd ever harbored.
"Hello? Ultra? You okay in there?"
"Yes. Air."
"Okay, you got air." The ghost swore, using choice words. "I'm sorry, man. They told me you were in stasis. I can't open your pod or give you food or water. I would, I want you to know that. I've tortured an enemy when I needed information, but what they're doing to you is uncalled for. It's cruel. I don't want any part of it. Don't condone it."
Today was full of surprises.
"They told me all I had to do was sit here, let them know if anything happened. Most boring duty ever. Until you spoke. Soon as I told them, they yanked me out of here, questioned me and told me it was a fluke in the system. They assured me you were back asleep and it was safe to come in here. You couldn't escape. That's when I realized, I wasn't assigned here because I got in a blow. I was here to stay. They don't want me telling anybody what I know."
"What?"
"They had another Ultra helping them."
"Traitor?" Pietas ground out the word, his throat stinging.
"Yeah. He told me which pod to go to. Which one mattered."
"Name?"
"They didn't tell me."
"Name."
"If you're talking about the pod I was to go to, I didn't know who it was. If you mean the Ultra, they didn't tell me."
"Name."
"They didn't tell me. I never saw him. Heard him speak through one of those voice changers."
"Name!"
"Look, I know you got no reason to trust humans, but I'm not lyin' to you. Got no reason to."
Pietas considered that. He'd accept it for now. "Eat him."
"Sorry, what?"
"I will." He drew in breath, the words exhausting him. "Eat him."
The ghost swore under his breath. "I heard tales you ate your enemies. Figured that was a myth. That's not--" He swore again. "That's not...true?"
"True." Pietas would find out who the traitor was, hunt him down and eat him while he lived. Tear off chunks of him and eat them raw. He'd take years to terminate him. Maybe let him live forever. Eat a bite of him every day.
"Remind me never to make an enemy of you."
Cocooned in darkness, Pietas smiled. "Too late."
The ghost chuckled. "Yeah. I guess so."
"Near?"
"Near? You mean are we near Sempervia? No, man. Sorry."
"Long?"
"Long? You mean how long till we get there?"
"Yes."
The ghost cleared his throat. "Listen... maybe it's better you--"
"Say."
Another pause. "Look, you sure you--"
"Say!"
"The ship's still in station. It hasn't even left Enderium Six."
Still in station? Still in station! He'd thought they'd be halfway there by now. "Long?"
"How long have you been here? Three Terran solar months today. The trip doesn't start until next week. Supposed to take a year."
A year!
A year in this netherworld, with no food, no water? Four times longer than he'd already suffered. Every time he died his cells burst and renewed themselves, searing his entire body from the inside out. He'd suffocate in a coffin full of dead cells.
The Ultra metabolism was proof humans had no mercy. Mortal death could never terminate his life. No matter how much he might want it.
Desire it. Crave it.
The ghost was talking, but Pietas couldn't hear, overtaken by a weakness he hadn't suffered from since he was a child.
"Pietas!" His father cupped his face and forced him to look up. Behind his father's head, Earth's yellow sun blasted its light. "Warriors do not cry. Stop it this instant."
He'd been three years old and had fallen while trying to keep up with his father's longer stride.
His hands bled and it frightened him. Ultras didn't bleed. His father said so. Something must be wrong.
He lifted his palms to show his father. "It hurts."
"Ultras never admit to pain. You are my son! Put your hands down this instant."
His mother picked him up and chided Mahikos. Holding Pietas in her arms, she examined his hands, now healed, and kissed his palms. "There, my son. It's all better. See? Pain must be borne, but it passes."
"You will make him weak."
"I'll make him compassionate." Helia tousled his hair and kissed Pietas on the cheek. "He's never been injured before, Mahikos. Be patient."
Pietas flung his arms around his mother's neck.
"You'll make him weak. Ultra warriors have no time for weakness. The next time he cries, I will beat him until he stops."
His father had beaten him, many times. But for crying? Never. Pain must be borne. Pain is a warrior's ally.
He jerked himself back to the present. "What?"
"I asked if you're all right."
He swallowed. The tears had wet his throat. "I am perfect."
"Uh huh. Heard you were a narcissist too. Is all that nasty crap they say about you true?"
Pietas grunted. He'd wasted precious body fluids on tears. He must face whatever lay ahead of him. An Ultra did not snivel like a useless child. He could not wipe his face or nose. See what weakness got him? Now he was even more uncomfortable.
He took a shuddering breath, let it all out. "Talk."
"Talk? You mean you can't talk or you want me to?"
"You."
"Okay. What shall I talk about?"
"Tell--" The scratchy, broken sound of his vice infuriated him. These revolting humans had robbed him of speech as well as his freedom. He coughed and forced himself to talk past the pain. "Tell name."
"I had a human one before I died and they reanimated me. Not telling it to you. That Ultra told me if you ever knew who it was threatened someone you cared about, you'd kill everyone I cared about if you got free. Said you were worse than a vengeful demon. Not to expect you'd show my family any mercy after I threatened to push the immolate button on one of your people."
Pietas did not blame him.
The ghost began whistling a different tune, one Pietas didn't recognize, but the notes of this one didn't carry their usual pep. The whistling stopped after a time.
The extended silence frayed already ragged nerves. With the long months of not hearing another voice, even the voice of a human had been...welcome.
Pietas tried to speak. His voice cracked. He coughed until his throat bled enough to let him vocalize. "There?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
Indulging in curiosity was beneath him, but the endless silence gnawed at him.
"Tell name. Family. Safe." No answer was forthcoming. He added, "I protect."
The lengthy speech drained him and he panted. They metered the thin air to a few puffs per hour. It allowed him to cling to life, but not enough to indulge in any activity that might result in his freedom.
"You know something, Ultra? I've heard you never lie. But this is my family we're talking about. I can't risk my family. Let's talk about something else."
This revealed a belief that Pietas could escape. Good. Another tool. "Mother."
"Sorry, what?" The voice sounded close to the pod.
"Pod. Mother."
The ghost swore. "That was your mother's pod? Man, I'm sorry. It wasn't personal, me going to that one. That Ultra said you cared about her. I figured she was your wife or girlfriend." He added, "Which is bad enough. Any guy'd come after you for that, but your mother..." He gave a long whistle. "Me? I'd kill anyone hurt my abuela. My mother dumped me I 'as just a kid. I hated her, man, but my abuela? She raised me."
"Grandmother."
"Yep. How many languages you speak?"
Ultras had an affinity for language and Pietas forgot nothing. He'd learned hundreds. What you understood, you could conquer and the language of a people was the key to understanding them. "Most."
"Figures. You've had plenty of time for it. Me, I'm fluent in six. Get by in five."
"Abuela. Good?"
"She was the best. Taught me right from wrong. What it meant to be a man. A good man. Taught me the meaning of honor. You know how grandmothers are."
"No grandmother."
"Sorry, what? No grandmother? Everybody's got a grandmother. 'Less she died. If she died, I'm sorry."
Why was this ghost apologizing as if it mattered to him what Pietas felt? They were enemies. "No grandmother," he repeated. "Ultra."
It was quiet a moment. "Oh, right! Ultras are created as adults. You don't have families. Except you and your sister. You were born like humans."
Pietas flinched at the idea of being compared to such creatures, but he supposed the ghost referred to the method. This was true. There were no Ultra children. Upon realizing Helia was with child, his parents hid the pregnancy from everyone. To protect Pietas and his sister after they were born, his parents kept the two of them in complete isolation until they were young adults.
Until they were old enough to disappear among other Ultras. Once the others realized who and what they were, their fame spread. Their people idolized them.
Their father ensured they had every genetic enhancement known. He and Dessy studied humans and other Ultras from afar. Mahikos kept enhancing them until Pietas was sixteen. Dessy until she was twenty and she refused to let him continue changing her. Until she staged a minor mutiny and demanded the same freedom Pietas had.
Not a traditional family in any sense.
The ghost gave a long whistle. "So you never had a grandmother. Sorry, man. That sucks. Don't know what you were missing." He launched into a lengthy tale about his childhood, revealing bits of history without naming a person or place. Even while regaling Pietas with a tale, the ghost's soldier-training held true. One consorted with the enemy to make him feel comfortable and use that comfort to gain intelligence, but revealed no personal details.
Pietas had to admit to a grudging respect. "I--" He coughed. "I am Pietas."
"Yeah." The ghost paused and then chuckled. "I figured that for myself."
The remnant of a tear rolled onto his lips. Pietas licked it. Tasted salt, sweat, his own blood. "Six now."
"Sorry, what?"
"Name. Six."
"Six? Sorry. I don't get you."
"You. Six."
"What, you mean, you call me Six?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Six. Eight."
"Six eight. Sixty eight? What? What are you... Oh. You mean because we met on Enderium Six."
"Six. Eight."
"You're making no sense, Ultra. I don't have a clue-- Oh, wait." The ghost swore. "There were eight ghosts who came up against you in that room. You're saying you thought of me as number six."
Pietas smiled, pleased he understood. "Yes."
"You think 'cause I won't tell you my name, you can give me a number?" He swore in another language. "You got some nerve, Ultra. You know that?"
"I am Pietas."
"You don't like being called Ultra, don't call me Six."
"Is-- your name."
"I'm gonna let that go 'cause you're in there and I'm out here, but you call me Six when we get outta here, I'm gonna kick your ass."
Pietas smiled. So, the ghost foresaw them leaving together, did he? Good. He could definitely use that.
"They're not lying about no other human ever hitting you before? It's true?"
The legends of his prowess had preceded him. "True."
"How about that?"
"Lucky."
"Lucky? That's what you call the result of discipline. Maybe you've heard of that."
Pietas grinned into the dark, saying nothing.
The ghost swore. "The only one. Well, I'll be damned."
"Yes. You will."
Six let out a belly laugh.
Fatigue swept over Pietas. After such lengthy inactivity, talking exhausted him. He welcomed the bliss of sleep. As he drifted off, he heard the ghost speak, almost to himself.
"Man, I was luckier I lived through that than I thought."
Chapter Ten
Colonies of Man, Cape Hope
Rheault arrived, but stayed outside the house until he'd scripted--read--the inborn gifts and abilities of every Ultra inside. As he'd hoped, none had resistance to the shielding-illusion called Glimmer. He invoked the gift, entered, and remained in a corner of the room. There, he added another layer of Compulsion to the person he'd Charmed and brought with him.
Once the remains of a sumptuous dinner had been cleared, Rheault moved to the door. He removed a layer of Glimmer and made himself appear to be entering.
"Well, if it isn't Rheault ap Kirin." A tall Ultra stood, offering his hand. The others in the dining room stood as well. "Welcome! We were just talking about you."
Yes, they had. He'd gotten an earful.
Rheault accepted the greetings of all twelve and then took his place at the head of the table. He signaled for everyone to be seated.
Chairs slid on the carpet as each man and woman gathered around.
"I'v
e come from Enderium Six."
A male Ultra stood. "How many have surrendered to the humans?"
"Yes," echoed another. "How many?"
"Never mind that," put in one woman. "How many of us are in hiding?"
Rheault lifted his hands, signaling for quiet. "Estimates by border patrols indicate upwards of a hundred thousand of our kind have fled the Terran Crescent. Another hundred and fifty thousand have left the Colonies of Man."
"Going where?"
"As expected, some to the Worlds of Wings. Others to the Far Flung Colonies and beyond. A few thousand have fled into the various republics on the outskirts. Once the exodus has completed, we'll return to the Terran Crescent. As planned."
One woman signaled for attention. "Will it be safe?"
"Not for us. Not among humans. That's why I've taken steps to create allies."
"Not with the followers of... of him."
"Of Pietas? He has no use for humans. I doubt he ever will. We, however, have learned to blend. To fit into the public in such a way we are invisible. The wars Pietas wanted to fight would have destroyed the society we've worked so hard to fit into. To that end, removing him from power and exiling him and his crew was the best way to gain peace."
And his own power.
The woman clasped her hands before her, as if praying. "All our years of planning! Will it work? Will they send him away? What about the one who betrayed him? The one who told them how to capture him?"
"The traitor? I'll get to him. As to your first question, it has worked. It's done. The traitor was ensnared in his own trap when he tried to leave, placed into stasis and is now on board the same ship."
"It seems a shame. They'll terminate him when they realize it was him. He had no idea he was our tool."
Rheault shrugged. "His problem. However, I did ensure no one knew it was him. He'll be released on a different continent from the others. Perhaps he'll survive."
"How soon are they leaving?"
He tapped the table. "You'll be glad to know, the ship left yesterday, bound for Sempervia."
A collective intake of breath and then soft cries of joy erupted around the room. The twelve stood and began hugging each other, all of them talking at once.
Rheault let them rejoice, but when enough time had passed, he called them to order once more. They gathered around the table, some sitting, some standing.
Bringer of Chaos- The Origin of Pietas Page 6