"No, he won't." Silver says. "Paris needs Troy for the games. He's just trying to scare him and rough him up a little. Paris is establishing dominance in any way he can. I don't like this any more than you do, but we have to sit here and wait for a chance to take action." Disappointed in his drawing, he swipes his hand across it, changing the forms back to shapeless sand. "Damn it."
"What are you trying to do?" Blice asks, moving closer to him. "Your hands are shaking pretty bad today."
"Don't remind me. It was nothing. I'm just . . . I'm hating myself."
"Why?"
"This is all my fault."
"No, it's not. Paris is the one doing this, not you. He is a twisted monster."
"Who do you think made him this way? Me."
"What?" Blice asks. "No way, man."
"Hear me out. I failed him. Just like I failed Zodiac and Nova, I let him down as well. Nothing I did was good enough. When I saved Paris from those slavers when he was seven years old, I told him that I would always protect him. I would never let those evil people hurt him again. Well guess what? I was wrong. I wasn't there when he needed me most. I should have protected him better so he wouldn't have been sold again. After Uriel took him from Kyro, I should have stolen a ship and hunted nonstop for any sign of him. But no. I followed orders. Mistress told me she needed one week, that we would find Paris and rescue him in one week. That week turned into a month. That month turned into a year, but I held fast to my hope. It completely destroyed me inside. The empty waiting was the worst part. Every year on Paris's birthday, I would pray for God to lead him home to me so I could take care of him like I should have been before."
"Silver . . ."
"In my backpack in the guildhall, there is a sketchbook where I would draw what I thought Paris would look like every year one year older. I would write letters to him, full of empty questions that would never be answered. I asked if he was into sports or if he had a girlfriend. I asked if he could fly a space transport or if he had learned to play another instrument. I would hold onto those letters which only had meaning to me. I lost hope around year five. The empty void in my heart had grown so much that I had to do whatever I could to continue functioning on a day to day basis. That's when I really started drinking. The more I drank, the more I forgot and the more dependent on it I became. Most of the time, I couldn't get out of bed without a glass of wine or a shot of whiskey. I knew all along that it wasn't the answer, but I was so distraught that even a dangerous temporary fix was better than facing reality without it."
"This still isn't any fault of yours."
Silver picks up a handful of the dusty sand and lets it fall through his fingers. "You can say that all you want, but I know deep down that I failed Paris. Be glad you didn't have kids, Blice. I never wanted to have children. Maybe that's why God made me attracted to men so I couldn't bring children into the world. Maybe he knew I wasn't going to be a good enough father. But in the end, things happened that were out of my control and I had two beautiful children. I love Zodiac and Nova with all of my heart. They mean the world to me. But I messed up again and was forced to abandon them. For ten years, I missed so much of their lives as they grew up without me. While I was running from the law, I rescued Paris and I instantly fell in love with that tiny boy. I knew he was like my own son and I would do anything for him. If I couldn't take care of my biological children, then I swore I would do everything in my power to take care of Paris and give him the best life possible."
"And you did. I've heard stories about you and Paris. You two were inseparable. He was so happy with you."
"That happiness was never complete, thought. Even when he was laughing and telling stories, there was still a dark sadness in those eyes of his that never went away. Below the joy, a steady current of pain was lurking there, ready to bubble up and overtake him at any moment of weakness. I couldn't help him forget. That darkness is what Uriel used to control him and turn him into this demon. That person out there isn't my Paris. My Paris died long ago, at the moment Uriel and Hector shattered his precious innocence. They destroyed the floodgates and let the darkness fill Paris completely to the point where he has no memory of the light. All he knows now is hatred. That's not the boy I loved and raised as my own son."
"Sometimes a child grows up to be something awful despite how he was raised. You did your best. That's all that matters. Did you love Paris?" Blice asks.
"With every fiber of my being."
"There you go. You gave him love and happiness. You taught him right from wrong. You can lead him to the correct path, but you can't drag him down it."
The cell door opens and the guards nonchalantly drop an unconscious Troy to the floor and leave, locking the door again.
"Troy? Say something!" Orion shakes his shoulder. "Troy, wake up!"
"Leave him alone. Does he have a pulse?" Silver asks.
"Yes, but it's weak."
"Then he is still alive. Paris wouldn't try to kill him yet. Remember that Troy is supposed to fight the champion eventually. Paris is having way too much fun to end this just yet. Let Troy rest. He needs to recover as quickly as he can before these fights start. I have a bad feeling about what is awaiting each of us in the days to come. And no doubt Troy will bear the brunt of it. Paris has developed a scary obsession with him."
Dion laughs roughly. "As long as Paris doesn't try to cut off any of my body parts and claim them for himself, I'm not afraid of anything that brat comes up with."
"You'd better rethink that. Foolish bravery will only lead you to tragedy. Don't underestimate Paris. His mind is plagued by a dangerous and powerful darkness. There is no limit to the dangers he can dish out. He's not the same little boy we used to love and care for. You have to remember that or it will crush you when you least expect it. He is a master manipulator, just like Uriel taught him to be. Paris is beyond saving."
"So what happens now?" Orion asks. "Do we just sit here like sheep waiting to be slaughtered?"
"Just be glad you're not addicted to or dependent on anything like Blice and I are. I would probably be dead if Paris hadn't started giving me some rum every night. I had started to really lose my mind. We play with the hand we've been dealt and wait for the chance to slip an ace from our sleeve."
12
Zodiac unzips his leather shirt and tosses it aside before pulling off his undershirt. This will have to do. Stretching out his legs in front of him on the cold ground inside the shell of an abandoned submarine, he slips off his belt. When he slides his pants down, he cries out and bites his fist as the tears escape his eyes. He wraps his undershirt around his hand and touches it to the gaping wound on his lower abdomen. The acidic burning of the neon green plasma radiates through his torso, nearly crippling him. They were not lying about the stuff being pure agony. It dissolved his belt buckle and left a hand-sized bloody hole two inches deep, barely missing his groin. At least the plasma stopped most of the bleeding. But the inches of exposed nerves and muscle leave him weak and vulnerable. There's no way to tell what damage has been done to his organs at this point.
When he can't take the pain from putting pressure on the wound, he gives up and drags himself over to the wall where he spots signs of someone building a fire in here long ago. He finds his lighter in his pocket and crawls in excruciating pain around the area gathering anything that looks like it can burn. Eventually, he makes a tiny fire and lies down to stare up at the ceiling. The darkness is silent on this planet. Through his tears, he drifts to sleep.
The pouring rain pelts against the metal walls of the long-abandoned submarine as the fire crackles and dies down to orange glowing embers. Zodiac painfully sits up and kicks the coals, eliciting a bit of a flare up. It's not enough to make a difference. This is just one of the numerous discarded artifacts and vehicles dotting the forbidding landscape of this harsh planet of Barren Void. The malfunctioning weather generator doesn't add any points to the tourist appeal of this place. At least it's not over a hundred degrees Fahren
heit like it was earlier in the day.
How did he get in such a terrible state? Zodiac had been doing fine for a week until some guards picked up on his trail and chased him down. They probably found the blood from his bullet wound in his knee that wouldn't stop bleeding. Then they opened fire from across a ravine and one blast of plasma hit him. Even with the searing pain from the plasma, he managed to outrun them and find this submarine for a safe place to tend to his wounds.
Now his focus turns to getting out of here. He's been running so much from those guards this entire time that he hasn't been able to call for help. He saw the ship leave without him, but he couldn't risk being discovered to wave it down. He digs in the pockets of his pants until he finds his cell phone and touches the screen. Nothing. Stupid ancient technology. Well, that's useless. He tosses the phone across the room where it hits the wall and cracks into two pieces. What now? Then it dawns on him. Of course . . . his sensor. It's not on his arm. Where did it go? A few seconds of searching reveals the thin golden square stuck to the leather of his shirt. That would explain why he hasn't received any calls from Mistress. Zodiac presses the sensor to his arm and it lights up. Good old never-dying sensors. He types the number in with his shaking, blood-stained fingers.
Mistress answers immediately. "Zodiac? Where have you been? Are you all right?"
"No. I'm pretty beat up."
"Where are you?"
"I'm still on Barren Void. Ah!" Zodiac winces as the plasma bites into his skin again.
"What's wrong?"
"Just this damned plasma."
"You have a plasma wound?" Mistress asks, sounding worried. "Those are terribly serious."
He holds the shirt to his waist. "Remind me again when I'm not dying from it."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you. How bad is it?"
"Two inches deep and the size of my hand directly above my groin."
"Oh, you have to be hurting."
"More than you know. The only reason I'm doing as well as I am is due to those programs and modifications that Samuels made to my brain. They suppress pain to a point. I can't even imagine what pitiful state I'd be in without that. My bullet wound is nothing compared to the plasma."
"You have more than one injury?" Mistress asks. "How much blood have you lost? Sync your sensor with the network so I can monitor your vital signs."
"I'm taking a major risk calling you on this planet as it is. If I sync to the Nymph network out here, there's a possibility they could track me down and finish me off. My health can wait. I need you to come get me. I can send you coordinates easily."
"Let me talk to Donnie and Seraph and see if they can fly out there. You're putting a lot of pressure on them."
Is she joking? "Damn it, Mistress. It's their job."
"But it's not their job to give their lives for you at the snap of your fingers. They barely made it off that planet a week ago. Why should I make them go back into that immediate danger?"
Zodiac loses all control of his temper. "Please! I'm dying here. I've been drinking rainwater and melted snow. I haven't had any food in over a week. I know I've lost a lot of blood and I'm still bleeding. I've had a fever for the past two days and I've been incredibly dizzy."
"You might have an infection."
"Then get me home!" He screams. "Come get me and take me to a hospital."
"As I already told you, I have to talk to Donnie and Seraph. If they are willing to go get you, then they should be there tomorrow."
"And if not? I might not have until tomorrow."
She sighs. "Zodiac, I have so many more important things to deal with than you."
"I see. This is about Samuels, isn't it? You believe that I was working with him and Paris. You want me to die out here."
"You are out of your mind. This is what starvation and blood loss get you. If I thought you were a traitor, would I have trusted you to go after Atlas? Before you answer with some crazy response, I'll tell you the answer. No. Now sit there and try to relax while I discuss this with the pilot and navigator. I will call you back with a plan in one hour. Wait, here they are now. Donnie, would you do me a huge favor?"
Donnie's voice comes over the speaker. "Let me guess, go pick up Zodiac from wherever he's gotten himself stuck."
"He's on Barren Void."
"Let me bake a pizza and I'll go wake up Seraph. I'm getting paid double for this."
"Of course. Zodiac, did you hear that?" Mistress asks. "They will be leaving soon to come get you."
"Good. And tell them to bring me a slice of that pizza."
* * *
Night finally came to shroud the world in comforting darkness and separate Troy from the harshness of his reality, at least for a few hours of mercy. The welts all over his body still ache, but he is grateful to have his clothes back, especially now that the temperature is dropping rapidly. As the locusts fill the calm night air with their buzzing song, Troy sits against the cold wall and watches the others sleeping on the floor. He hates it here. This place smells bad, it feels bad, and the longer he is kept here, the more he wants to get out. At this point, he would almost rather be fighting. Almost.
Dion stirs awake and crawls over next to Troy. He frowns as he fails to make his blue mohawk stand up. "You look like you're doing better."
"It still hurts."
"I bet. So . . . um, while Silver and Blice were talking earlier, everyone else was trying to ignore what was happening to you. But I saw what Paris did."
"All of it?"
"Yes."
Troy can't do anything but laugh. Maybe they were right. Sometimes things get so bad that all you can do is make it into a joke. "Got any mouthwash?"
Dion groans and rubs his eyes. "That's awful. Someday when we're not locked in here, I'm going to teach you what things you should and should not make jokes about."
"Know what Paris told me? He did something worse to Silver."
"It's getting to the point where the crazy shit Paris does can't surprise me anymore. Let's change the subject. How was it being my brother's slave?"
He wants to change the subject so he picks this? "Infuriating at times, but Orion is a good guy."
"You're still wearing that ring in your nose."
"It's kind of permanent."
"You could remove it if you wanted to, but I think you don't want to lose that connection to your owner."
"Can a king have an owner?" Troy asks.
"Good question. I suppose you could still belong to him if you made it a law."
"No. When, or if, I become king, I will abolish all forms of slavery. No one deserves to be treated like property. If you haven't been there, you don't truly know what it's like. I understand a lot of the anger and the hatred that Paris feels. If I had the same nightmarish childhood he did, I can't say I'd be any different. He was born a slave to always be a slave. I had freedom once and those memories kept me going."
Dion looks out the narrow window where the stars are shining in the sky. "You know you're still bound to Orion, right? According to the laws, you belong to him until he dies. You know what happens then, right? When your owner dies, you are killed so you can serve him in the next life."
"I don't think Orion would want that. I get on his nerves too much to spend all of eternity at his side."
"And Silver? Do you think it was cruel of him to buy such a young slave, knowing that their age difference could make Paris die decades before he would naturally? And Mistress would have made him abide by the strict rules of the desert Nymphs that she fully supports. She would have killed Paris herself in a heartbeat, even if he was still a child."
"It's a morally grey area."
"Would you be prepared to die now if Orion died?" Dion asks.
"My position as king will overrule that."
"You know, I heard so many good things about you, but now I'm starting to see just how selfish you can be."
Selfish? Why does everyone think Troy is selfish? "I'm not selfish. I'm realistic. I wa
s born to be king. Others are born to be slaves. That's just the way it is. I am more than willing to change that aspect of our society and make it a punishable crime to continue that, but there's nothing I can do about it stuck down here."
"Why does Nova want to be with a man like you? I'll never understand that."
A few minutes of silence pass between them until Troy asks a question he has been needing an answer to for a long time. "Do you hate me?"
"I used to. When Nova first told me she was in love with you, I hated everything about you. But I know I've lost this battle. Nova will never want me. It's pointless for me to keep holding onto that dream."
"That's a very noble thing for you to say."
"I want you to know something, though. I love Nova. When I wasn't sure if you were going to return from Delphi, I had plans and money put aside so I would be able to take care of her. I even proposed marriage, but I guess I waited too long because she heard that you were coming back. I don't think that would have mattered much anyway. She never would have agreed to be my wife."
"Was she faithful?" Troy asks.
"What do you mean?"
"Was Nova with anyone else while I was gone?"
"No. She belongs to you and you alone. She didn't even look at another man and gods know I tried to get her to look at me. You're a lucky man, Troy."
"I will be if I get out of here and save Nova. Do you think she will recover and be okay?"
Dion takes his hand and looks him in the eyes. "We can hope. I want all the best for you. Do me one favor."
"Anything."
"Take care of her."
"I will. I swear I will." Troy means it wholeheartedly.
Dion rubs Troy's arm and studies his muscles. "Why are you still so weak? What happened to you in Delphi?"
"Ebola is one hell of a virus."
"You had Ebola?"
"Yeah. I wanted to die. It was the single worst experience of my life. Then when I was diagnosed by the healers of the tribe, they dragged me out into the desert and left me there to die so I wouldn't infect anyone else."
"How did you survive that?" Dion asks.
Paradise Forgotten Trilogy Page 53