Departure

by Ken Barrett

  The girl kicked his knee, and again he dropped to the floor. “Fuck you,” she said. “You’re gonna die down here, and it’s our job to make sure that takes a long, long time.”

  “No, you’re not gonna kill me,” he replied. “I’m here because I won’t work for the old bitch. If I die, she doesn’t get her way and I win.” His teeth chattered in the damp cold, and probably with fear as well.

  “Killing is an act of mercy down here,” she said. “Now get up.”

  “Why? Just so you can kick me again?”

  “I kicked a man to death once.” Her tone was unemotional, as if she were speaking of something she recently had for dinner. “It was kinda tiring, but interesting too. A challenge, you know? Keepin’ someone awake all the way ‘till he dies is tough work.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want to put you out.” He squatted against the wall. “So, are you gonna let me stand up? If not just tell me, because it’s easier to stay down.”

  The girl looked at him and shook her head. “Nah, you ain’t worth the trouble. My boss wants to deal with you herself, and that makes you some special kinda shit-heel. Now get up motherfucker.”

  “Why thank you,” he said while sliding to a standing position against the wall. “You know, I once had a sister about your age.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Your army killed her when they burned my city to the ground. Do you really think that anything you do to me will be worse than watching her die?”

  The girl in black stared at him for a moment, then kicked his hip driving him further down the hallway. “Shut up asshole; important people are waiting for you.”

  *****

  “Welcome to Hell Liam.” The man he recalled from the council meeting stood at an intersection of hallways. Robert Bradley, Director of the Military, was with a group of women and men, some of which wore the gray uniform of the army, and others were dressed in black like his young tormentor.

  “Antiquated beliefs,” Liam answered, struggling to catch his breath. “No one believes in God or Heaven and Hell anymore.”

  “We may change your mind about that.” A tall dark woman dressed in black smiled sweetly. “You’d be surprised at how many people cry out to God in hopes of mercy.”

  “You were at the council meeting.”

  “Yes, I was.” She would have been pretty had it not been for the hard glint in her dark eyes. “My name is Chelsea Cromwell, and I run the Internal Security Division. Some people like to call me Mother’s Nurse. Robert has been so kind as to pass your care off to me.” Her grin took on a vicious edge. “Quite a show you put on… blowing smoke up everyone’s ass like that; of course, I didn’t believe a word of it.”

  “I wouldn’t have expected you to. People in your line of work aren’t known for their intellectual acumen.”

  The young girl kicked him in the ribs again and drove him to his knees. “Shut up asshole.”

  “You prove my point, and you really should consider ways to increase your vocabulary.” He struggled with his chains and finally regained his feet. “Knowing only violence, you treat everyone as an enemy.”

  “Oh, but you are my enemy Liam,” the dark woman said. “Anyone that opposes Dear Mother is an enemy of the city.” Her voice had taken on a melodic quality that was almost soothing. “And you will comply with Mother’s orders, all my clients do… in time.” She turned to the young girl. “Strip him and put him in his cell. We’ll see how brave he is after a few days.”

  The girl pulled out a long sharp knife and set to work.

  *****

  His cell was roughly a meter square, constructed of rough concrete, and looked a lot like a shower stall. It was a frigid and dimly lit space with an open hole in the floor that would suffice as both drain and sewer. A water spigot hung from the ceiling high overhead. While sitting against the wall it was impossible to stretch out his legs, and no matter what position he tried while lying on the floor, he couldn’t straighten his body. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant place to stay for very long.

  He sat against the wall and shivered in the biting cold. How often had he complained about the heat? And yet, he was miserable in its absence. He lay his head back and closed his eyes, hoping to relax or at least pretend to do so in case someone was watching.

  Where was he? After being escorted out of the Council Building he had been ushered downstairs into an ancient concrete labyrinth. In that maze of identical corridors, he had lost all sense of direction. He was alone and in a hopeless situation, completely at the mercy of a bunch of violently deranged psychopaths. Whatever they would do to him wouldn’t be good.

  The only thing in his favor was that the government needed him alive and still in possession of his mental faculties. All his bravado aside, he doubted he could hold out under torture for very long. Pain hurts; that was the simplest and most powerful lesson he had learned when he and Rose escaped from Fort Collins. A more complex lesson of that time was the astounding capacity of his own kind for brutality. Interesting that the word humane, derived as it was from the ‘human’ species, was so contrary to our true nature.

  Above him the pipes rattled, and seconds later frigid water poured into his cell. He couldn’t help but utter a shrill cry of alarm. There was no way to escape the deluge, so he pulled his knees to his chest and hunkered down, hoping that the icy flow would soon stop; and it did after a minute. He breathed a loud sigh of relief and shook the water out of his hair. “Thanks!” he said, hopefully loud enough that anyone listening might hear. “My plumbing at home hasn’t been working well lately. It’s kinda nice to get clean.”

  Time passed; probably just hours, but maybe days. He had no way of knowing which it was; the murky light was constant and the showers occurred at irregular intervals. It quickly became apparent that his cell was designed to prevent sleep. How long could they keep him awake before he broke down and went insane? “You keep proving my point,” he said to no one at all. “Humanity isn’t worth saving. In fact, the universe will be much better off without us.”

  *****

  When he was first placed in his cell, he didn’t think he’d be there very long. Surely, the need for his work was so immediate that they wouldn’t allow him to languish; but that belief proved to be untrue. Days, maybe even weeks passed, and the only person he saw during that time was a masked guard that appeared at odd intervals with food. Eating was his only entertainment, but he had to consume it quickly because the tasteless porridge rapidly liquified and ran down the drain when the shower came on.

  Occasionally he heard faint screams from outside his cell. The sound made it difficult to not sink into despair. He knew it was a designed environment intended to induce fear; the problem was that it was working.

  It was impossible to be optimistic about his future. Even if he managed to escape death by torture, he would surely die in the solar storm. Humanity was coming to its end; shouldn’t he do something to save it? Who was he to decide the fate of his species? He wondered if the Tribes had spies within the NOAA facility at Flatiron; and If so, did they have their own plans to save themselves?

  Finally, with nothing else to occupy his mind, he resorted to threats.

  “What’s the highest rated sunscreen you can get?” he asked. “It ain’t gonna be enough when the sun explodes. You’re all gonna be burned to ashes.”

  “You know, without my navigation, the travel time to Trappist-1 is 150,000 years.” There was a mania to his laugh when he heard it echo in his cell. “I hope you enjoy the scenery.”

  *****

  Two guards arrived, but they weren’t there to deliver food. Instead they grabbed his arms and drug him out into the hall. His captor’s faces were covered, making them seem inhuman; they moved like robots and didn’t say a word. “Are you guys alive?” he asked stupidly.

  He tried to fight back, but was shivering and numb from days spent in his cold cramped cell and couldn’t get his legs to work. The guards roughly hauled him down the hall, then he was s
hoved into a brightly lit room and pushed into a hard-wooden chair. The faceless men secured his arms and legs, then silently exited the room.

  The small space had an unpleasant sterile feel to it. A steel tray table was set up nearby that held an array of dangerous looking instruments that shone menacingly in the harsh overhead lights. He saw a variety of knives and needles, and even an object that looked like a long fork that appeared to be designed to issue an electric shock. Distant screams echoed through the hall outside. Someone was being tortured; oh shit, what had he gotten himself into?

  Time stretched agonizingly, and he was left alone with his thoughts. Fear ran its chilled fingers up his back and made him shiver. The needles and knives scared him, their potential for delivering agony was palatable. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. The faint echoing screams continued and he couldn’t help but stare at the array of tools that would be soon used on him. He wasn’t a brave man, even though he sometimes pretended otherwise. Did he have the strength to withstand torture without giving in to their demands? He didn’t think so.

  Surely, they wouldn’t kill him or do anything to impair his faculties. To work, he needed to be at least mentally intact. But maybe they didn’t need him at all anymore. It was possible that Ron had convinced them that he could plot the course they needed for their escape. The traitor could be convincing, so it might have happened. His future didn’t look bright, and he realized that he was going to die in that room, screaming in agony.

  Against his will he quivered with fear but told himself that his suffering wouldn’t last forever. As skilled as his captors were, they had limits; eventually his body would fail and the torture would end. He closed his eyes and focused his mind on that finish, when all pain would finally be gone.

  “Well, I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.”

  He opened his eyes and saw the dark-haired woman he’d met in the hall; the one they called Mother’s Nurse. She smiled down at him, but her eyes held a heartless mania that tightened his stomach. “Yeah, I’m comfortable. This is a nice chair, wish I had one like it at home.”

  “I know you’re afraid Liam. Please don’t lie to me.” She pulled up a wheeled desk chair and sat down.

  “Yes. You’re right. I’m scared to death, but isn’t everyone afraid of torture?”

  She smiled kindly and nodded, then slid the steel table alongside her chair. “That’s good. Truth is good, and my truth is that I enjoy causing pain.” She sighed and closed her dark heartless eyes. “The faces of those in agony are so beautiful.” She smiled wistfully. “We’re going to get to know each other very well over the next few days.”

  The woman was psychotic. “Wow… S&M, you know some people will pay a lot for the kinky stuff.”

  “It’s free with me, so you’re getting a good deal Liam.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed at the inevitable. “Would you mind answering a question before… well, before I lose my mind?”

  “Not at all. What would you like to ask?”

  “I was brought here because I wouldn’t cooperate with what the old lady wanted. I refused to build the navigation system you all need to escape the solar storm.”

  “Yes, that’s right. Are you going to beg for mercy so soon?”

  “No. In fact all this confirms my belief that humanity shouldn’t be allowed to survive. What I wonder is, if you realize that what you’re doing is committing suicide?”

  “Yes, well you make a good point Liam.” She picked up a long needle with a wooden handle. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

  *****

  He didn’t want to wake up, but a terrible agony filled his body and forced his eyes open. Everything hurt; thinking, breathing; the rough concrete floor of his cell had scoured his skin raw. Both his mind and body were ruined, all that was left of Liam Collins was a hollow shell brimming with pain. Mother’s Nurse was a perversely vicious bitch, but she was skilled at her job. He trembled as he recalled what he had suffered during his two sessions with her, then rolled onto his side and threw up on the floor.

  In their first session, the dark woman had started with his feet; inserting needles under his nails and between his toes. Then she moved on to the bottom of his feet, and he had never known such torment. He had screamed until his throat bled, then thankfully darkness swept up and claimed him.

  The cold shower in his cell had unwillingly brought him back to life. That was not where he wanted to be, the sweet oblivion of death would have been preferable. A guard had slid a bowl of tasteless paste through the bars for him to eat, but he could only look at it and weep. No one should still be alive after experiencing so much misery, but there was still more to come.

  Two faceless guards had again taken him from his cell and drug him down the hall by his feet. They were taking him back… back to the Nurse’s Treatment Room; that was what she called it, an innocent sounding name that represented such unspeakable torment. He fought them all the way, but it was pointless; he was too weak to resist.

  She had worked higher on his legs in the second session; using needles again on his shins, calves, and knees. He had begged her to stop, screaming that he would comply with whatever Mother wanted; but the dark woman hadn’t believed him; she just smiled and continued her work. He eventually passed out when she cut deeply into his thigh with a surgical knife.

  Once back in his cell, he knew that he couldn’t continue. He would have to give in. Let humanity wreak havoc and destruction on the universe; he was at his end and couldn’t take anymore. Some hero he was; it had only taken two sessions to break him.

  *****

  Time passed, and awareness slowly crept back into his mind. There were noises coming from the hallway outside his cell. A familiar sounding female voice was arguing desperately, insisting that she should be let go. He panicked, thinking that his sister was about to be tortured.

  “Aunt Margaret! You can’t do this to me!” The woman’s voice screeched, and a muffled male voice responded.

  It wasn’t Rose, and that was a relief. He crawled over to the barred entrance wondering what was going on but there was nothing to see. He heard the squabbling sounds of a scuffle and inarticulate grunts and muffled screams. Then a guard walked by, dragging Carolyn behind him.

  “Carolyn! No, come back! Don’t do anything to her!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

  “Liam! Help me!” Carolyn yelled as the guard pulled her from his view.

  “Let her go! Don’t do anything to her!” He begged for mercy, but silence was his only reply.

  Over the long period that followed he heard Carolyn repeatedly scream, and with each shriek his emotions flitted between anger and despair. Finally, his girlfriend’s torment faded into a weighted stillness that rested painfully upon his heart. What had they done to her? And worse, by not complying with Mother’s demands, what had he done to her? This was all his fault. All of it. The old bitch had acted according to her nature, he knew the risk to himself, but hadn’t accounted for the danger to those he cared about.

  Noise from the hallway again. Something large was being drug along the rough floor. A guard came into view pulling Carolyn’s unconscious body by one bloody foot. The tall faceless man stopped outside his cell so he could get a good look at the result of not complying with the Chancellor’s demands.

  “Carolyn!” he reached through the bars of his cage. The tips of his fingers could only brush against her leg. She was still dressed at least, but her clothing was torn and her shoes had been removed. “Oh, please no. Carolyn, you have to be ok.”

  “And maybe she will be.” Mother’s Nurse was standing nearby. “Your girlfriend wasn’t particularly strong, so I had to stop earlier than I wanted. She isn’t as much fun as you, but Mother has ordered that you be returned intact.” She licked her lips and stared at his bloody legs. “But oh well. Mother has given me her niece as a consolation prize. You may not have known your girlfriend’s relationship with Mother, but you should now realize how serious
she is. You will comply, or I’ll take your pretty friend apart piece by piece and love every minute of it.”

  Liam sighed and rested his head against the bars. “Ok. Ok, you win,” he said. “I’ll build the computers and navigation system you need. I’ll do anything. I’ll do it all. Just… please don’t hurt her anymore.”

  The dark woman sighed with disappointment. “Well ok. But Liam, we were having so much fun, and I’ll miss you so.”

  *****

  Mother appeared outside his cell a long time later. “So, you’re not so tough, are you?”

  He sat against the wall staring at his bloody feet. “No,” he whispered. “I’m not. But how could you do that to your own niece?”

  “In the greater scheme of things, what’s one life weighed against all of humankind. I’m saving our species Liam. No, you and I, we’re saving them together, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes Ma’am. I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll build the computers, and even program them to navigate for you after you reach Trappist-1.”

  “That’s a good boy,” she said. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you though. If anything goes wrong or doesn’t work, I’ll bring you both back here. Did you know that my Nurse is so skilled that she can stretch the path to death out for weeks? You’ll watch as she works on Carolyn, and when she’s done with her, it’ll be your turn. Do you understand me young man?”

  “Yes Ma’am, I do. But it goes both ways.”

  The old woman frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “If anything happens to Carolyn or any of my friends, I’ll send you so deep into N-Space that you’ll never find your way back.”

  “Thin threats from a weakling.”

  “Maybe… but do you want to take the risk?”

  The Chancellor grunted. “Doing nothing costs me nothing, so ok, we have a deal.”

  “There’s just one more thing,” he said while still staring at his bloody feet.

  “And what’s that?”