Betrayed: Episode Three of the Sister Planets Series

by Leviticus James

  They drag me through the doors and into a square room. I know it’s soundproofed the second we cross the threshold. My ears feel full and every little noise is soaked up into the thickly padded, acoustically muted walls. A VR pod nearly identical to the one I used to attend the debate tonight sits in the middle of the room. The hatch opens with a hiss as we enter.

  I feel a small prick on my neck, and my entire body goes numb. My head lolls forward. I don’t know what they drugged me with, but the chemicals roaring through my veins are quick and effective.

  The guards toss me into the pod and strap me down. I feel the prick in my neck where the machine taps into my central nervous system. Before the goggles lower down to my face, Greenstreet stops them and stands above me.

  “What you’re about to experience is something your buddy Don Merkatz cooked up for me. It’s called Aletheia. She won’t let me read your mind, but she will tell me what you fear and show me how you think. If I know that, I’ll know how to get you to talk.”

  He’s smiling at me. Joy fills his eyes and face. He’s so happy right now that it’s nearly contagious. For half a second, I think that maybe what’s about to happen will be enjoyable. Then I remember I’m being murdered.

  The goggles fall down the rest of the way. As they do, the senator waves.

  “Night, night, Maverick.”

  The goggles touch my face. I hear the hiss of the pod closing.

  I sit in total darkness and wait to die.

  Chapter 11

  Water drips somewhere in the distance. I’m floating in something cold. I can only hope it’s water. Every slosh or drip echoes.

  I open my eyes, but it’s still black. It’s so absolutely dark that my eyes must be closed and I only imagined opening them.

  I try and calm my breathing, but it’s coming in fits and starts. I won’t move. I would start swimming somewhere else, but I don’t know where I’d swim to. Besides, I’m positive what the senator wants me to do is panic, start swimming for my life, and drown.

  My eyes never adjust to the blackness. I wait for some shred of light to reach my blind, open eyes, but it stays blacker than black.

  Maaaaaverick …

  I bite my lip.

  Maverick, Maverick, Maverick, Maverick …

  A different disembodied voice starts.

  Cognitive dissonance is a condition of conflict or anxiety resulting from inconsistency between one’s beliefs and one’s actions.

  These aren’t my voices. It’s the drugs they gave me. I’m not hearing voices. I’m not. I’m not crazy.

  Maverick, Maverick, Maverick, Maverick …

  I’m not hearing voices like my mom does.

  The expression “not hold a candle to” seems to have come from the practice of a servant holding a candle for a master who was walking or working …

  I’m not hearing voices like Scarlet did.

  Maverick, Maverick, Maverick, Maverick …

  Linguistic typology is the classification of languages according to …

  I put my hands over my ears. I know that won’t do any good, but I do it anyway. I close my eyes and squint hard in a futile attempt to make the voices stop.

  Maverick, Maverick, Maverick, Maverick …

  I scream to drown out the noise. I’m too stressed to try and enter the In-Between. I’ll have to beat them at their own game.

  I don’t know how long I lay there, floating in the water, screaming as loud as I can. The clothes I’m wearing are soaked with water and my hands are pruney. My voice starts to crack.

  The two voices stop.

  I lay there in the silence, waiting for them to come back. They don’t, so I start to cry.

  I cry, and I cry, and I cry. Mika’s battered face, Gwen’s depleted form, and Jacob’s broken body all flash before my eyes.

  My fault. This is my fault.

  I don’t dare say it out loud—I know someone is listening—but I think it. The thought consumes me.

  This is all my fault.

  As I cry, the murmur of a voice begins deep within my brain. I prepare myself for the two voices to start jabbering. Maybe I can wrestle them into submission if I start trying early.

  But this is a different voice. Fear ties my insides in knots.

  This voice is dark.

  Just as it starts to become audible, the room begins to grow brighter and brighter. The world around me distorts and light floods in around the edges of my vision.

  I gasp like I’m coming up for air, and reality—not the virtual kind, but the tangible world—surrounds me. I feel the needle slide out from between my vertebrae and hear the faint suction noise as it’s removed from my neck.

  My fingers go from feeling cold and wrinkly to warm and smooth. My clothes no longer cling to me from being wet, and my body feels the support of the padded chamber again. My hair is dry, the room is warm, but I’m more scared now than when I was floating in the dark.

  The pod lid above me is open. The light in the room is dim, but I squint like I’m staring into the sun. I have no idea how long I was in VR, but the absolute darkness of where I came from makes it impossible for me to see now. I can still hear, though. A voice I don’t recognize whispers something.

  Footsteps approach me. I pry my eyes open just in time to see the senator standing over me, a wicked grin on his face.

  “So, guess what my little toy here told me?”

  I don’t humor him by answering.

  “It told me the truth about you.”

  I’m more scared than I’ve ever been in my life. I don’t know what truth he could possibly be talking about, but no truth about me can be good.

  He continues. “I’m not going to indulge your curiosities and tell you what that is, but I will tell you this: the best truth I found is your greatest fear.”

  He reaches down and grabs the sides of my mouth. I can’t breathe.

  “And now that I know, I’m going to make you wish you’d never been so stupid as to get in my way.”

  He gives my face a little push and makes a gesture with his other hand. A lab tech steps up and puts a handheld device near my left ear.

  “Just the one, senator?” he asks.

  “For now.”

  There’s a loud humming, then a beep.

  I know that beep. It’s the beep that started my indentured servitude to the senator. The beep that happened after he activated the devices in my head.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, unable to hide the tremor in my voice.

  The senator comes back into my view. He stares directly into my eyes and, without emotion, says, “Taking away something you love.”

  He grabs the device from the tech and jams his thumb onto the screen.

  Pain erupts along the left side of my head. If feels like a knife has been shoved into my ear. I scream and scream and scream.

  But I can only hear it with my right ear.

  There’s a high-pitched ringing for a few seconds, but a deep silence like nothing I’ve ever experienced quickly envelops my left side.

  I didn’t know I had tears left to cry or sorrow left to emote. But they both come out of me uncontrollably. I scream and moan and gasp for air.

  Someone or something pulls me up roughly by the shoulders as I sob. A black bag goes over my head. I’m jerked to my feet by two vice-like hands, one on each arm, and made to walk. I’m soon thrown forward, and I hear a loud bang. I rip the bag from my head.

  I’m in a room as black as the virtually created one I just came from. It’s filled with cold stone instead of water. I throw my hands out like a blind woman and find a wall. I follow it until I find another wall. From what I can tell, I’m in an eight-foot concrete cell. Nothing else. No bed, no toilet.

  I find a corner, huddle in it, and cradle the left side of my face while I weep. My eyes still aren’t adjusting. I feel dizzy, like I’m going to faint.

  –Don’t you dare pass out, you little bitch.–

  I scream. A man’s voice is so l
oud and clear I’m convinced it came from somewhere in the darkness at first. That can’t be right, though. I walked the entire room and didn’t run into anyone.

  I gather up the courage to say, “Hello?”

  The voice laughs.

  –Do you really think there’s someone in here with you? God, you’re stupid.–

  “Who are you?” I ask.

  –Oh, don’t you worry about that. We’ll get to know each other really well while we’re in here.–

  Chapter 12

  You’re ugly. God, you’re so ugly.–

  Maverick, Maverick, Maverick, Maverick …

  “Three blind mice, three blind mice …”

  One times one is one. One times two is two. Two times two is seven. Seven times eleven is eleventy-seven. One times four is four. Four times one million is zero.

  –What were you thinking? There hasn’t been a successful assassination of a political figure since Bobby Kennedy, and you thought you were going to be the one to pull it off?–

  Did you see Jacob’s face? His poor, poor face. He’s probably dead. There’s no way they let him live.

  “See how they run, see how they run …”

  They’ll keep him alive. The senator wouldn’t let them live if he didn’t need them. Mika’s dead. Auntie’s dead. Gwen’s dead. Who knows about Esau. But Jacob is probably still alive.

  –They probably tortured Esau. That’s your fault too, you whore. They’ll kill him soon if they haven’t already.–

  Maverick, Maverick, Maverick, Maverick …

  “They all ran after the farmer’s wife …”

  F# B F# G#m7 F# B F# G#m …

  –You’re such an ugly bag of shit. You can’t see yourself right now, but let me tell you how bad you look. You’re still fat even though they’ve barely been feeding you anything since you’ve been in here. Your nappy hair is disgusting, your clothes smell like shit, and the shit pile you’re leaving in the corner is the most repulsive thing I’ve ever smelled. You’re dirty, you’re disgusting, and you’re a mental case because you’ve got voices talking to you in your head.–

  Maverick, Maverick, Maverick, Maverick …

  –You’d give anything to play some music right now, wouldn’t you? You’d cut off your hand if that’s what it took to drown us out, huh? Well guess what? You’re probably never going to play another musical instrument again. You’ll die in this room, Maverick. Your life will snuff out in this room, and there’s nothing you can do about it.–

  F# B F# G#m A E F# G#m F# B A#m G#m …

  “Who cut off their tails with a carving knife …”

  The likelihood of you surviving this ordeal is not favorable. Your body’s reserves are running low. They are only feeding you enough to keep you alive. If your mental health continues to decline, you will either kill yourself or your organs will start shutting down. And you will die. Anyway you run it, you die.

  “Did you ever see such a thing in your life …”

  Maverick. Maverick. Maverick. Maverick …

  “STOP!”

  Silence.

  “As three blind mice.”

  Chapter 13

  There are no days. Only nights.

  The only way I can fall asleep amidst all of the voices is if my brain literally shuts down from exhaustion. I don’t ever remember falling asleep, just waking up to the voices.

  In the pod, it was like having two obnoxious toddlers in the backseat of my brain. Now it’s like driving a school bus full of kids, and the kids are learning how to take the wheel. I spend all of my energy just trying to keep my head above water and not be pulled into the murky depths of their words.

  The irony is, because of my useless left ear, the voices are the only thing I hear normally.

  I have no idea how long I’ve been imprisoned beneath Greenstreet’s mansion. It could be a week, a month, or a year. The only human interaction I’ve had is when two people in hazmat suits come in, put a bag over my head, and drag me to another room that’s clean so they can disinfect my old cell.

  –Maverick.–

  It’s Dark Voice. He’s the only one who talks directly to me anymore. I try my best to count the others, but it’s impossible. There are some voices that are always there, but otherwise it’s like trying to account for every voice while standing in the middle of an amusement park.

  –Here are some new ways we could have killed the senator but can’t now because you’re a failure.–

  Dark Voice proceeds to rattle off one asinine idea after another. I humor him. He’s cruel if I belittle him.

  The door opens, and I assume I’m being moved again. But the hazmat suits don’t put the bag on my head. There’s jostling near the door and dim light coming through, so I lift my head to get a better look at what’s going on.

  A solid stream of cold water slams into my face. I scream in shock and anger, but it doesn’t stop the torrent from beating up and down my body. From head to foot, water pummels me until I’m curled in a ball on the floor, my body convulsing from the cold.

  Hands grab my arms and drag me out of the room. The lights in the hallway probably aren’t that bright, but my eyes haven’t seen light since Greenstreet captured me.

  I’m tossed to the floor. Even through my closed lids, my eyes can sense the scorching rays of incandescent light. I seal my eyes shut, knowing I’ll be blinded if I open them. Someone rips off my clothes. Warm air comes blasting from every direction around me. I cover my ears and stay curled up on the floor.

  The air stops, and I’m completely dry. Unkind hands are on me again, shoving my arms and legs into clothes. By the weight and feel of the fabric, it’s sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I’m still too afraid to open my eyes.

  I’m dragged out the door again and down a long hallway. I brave a peak for half a second. I see dark concrete walls and red carpet beneath my feet. The light hurts my eyes too much, so I snap them shut again.

  I’m tossed down on the floor in a heap, and I hear a door shut behind me. After being in a cell where the only sounds were the voices in my head, wherever I am is a symphony of digital reverberations. Machines whirl and beep all around me.

  I listen to the sounds of a world outside my cell, my face pressed into the carpet, and my mind flashes back to the first night that Resource Card found its way into my life. My face had been smashed into the carpet of that immaculate room Jacob and Esau had me ziptied in.

  Bookends of a saga gone terribly wrong.

  Someone snorts. “Pathetic.”

  Why do I know that voice? The voices in my head are quiet, but thinking right now is hard. My brain finally places the new voice, but it’s so confusing that I force my eyes open to see if it’s true.

  I’m inside the room I saw on the video feed from Amina’s tablet. The room that communicates with Mars. Glass consoles face the giant screen, curving to make wide arcs that stretch from one side of the room to the other like a colorless rainbow.

  I’m in the curve of the tiniest rainbow with three other people besides my guards. The first person is Senator Greenstreet. No surprise.

  The second person is Jacob. I gasp when I see him. His face isn’t swollen like it was when I last saw him. In fact, it’s gone the opposite direction. His eyes and cheeks are sunken, his skin is ashy, and his lips are cracked.

  He’s horribly skinny. The strong young man that I know is reduced to near skin and bones. He’s wearing sweats and an old cotton T-shirt so big that it looks like his shoulders will slip through the neck hole at any second.

  The third person is the surprise. Everyone else belongs here, but the third person might as well be a water buffalo. That would make more sense.

  Mingo Zimmerman is standing there, shaking his head at me.

  “Pathetic,” he says again, frowning. “This whole thing is just the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen.”

  My eyes dart to the senator. He’s smiling like he won the lottery.

  “Hello, Maverick. Nice to see you. It�
�s been a long time.” He taps his ear and grins. “Can you hear me okay?”

  I didn’t know I had the energy to be enraged. Apparently I do. Fortunately, it’s so all-consuming that I’m paralyzed with hatred. I keep staring at him, unable to do anything else.

  “I bet you want to know what’s going on, don’t you?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Well, that’s fine. I’ll explain it to you. Then I’m going to get the last little bit of information I need from you before I shoot the Martians out of the sky. Then I’ll kill you and your little punk boyfriend.”

  Chapter 14

  At the mention of shooting down the ships, my eyes dart to the giant screen. It still displays the Earth, it’s atmosphere, the moon, and the fleet of Martian ships. This time, though, there’s trajectory lines connecting a few red dots down on Earth to the ships on the other side of the moon.

  My God, he’s really going to shoot them down.

  “First off, you need to know something very important,” Greenstreet says. “You aren’t talking to Senator Michael Greenstreet anymore. You’re talking to Vice President Elect Michael Greenstreet.”

  My jaw drops. I can’t help it. Not because I’m shocked he won. It was obvious he would win over Mingo. I’m stunned because that means I’ve been in my cell for at least a month.

  I look at Mingo.

  Greenstreet chuckles. “Bet you wonder why Mingo’s here then, don’t you? Answer’s simple. He threw the election for me. There was no way in hell he would be elected vice president, so we worked together to make sure he got the nomination for the other party.”

  Greenstreet grabs the back of a rolling chair, drags it over to him, and sits down. “The reason he went along with it was because I was close to your boss. Amrian and Rock Solid are huge competitors, and Rock Solid wanted to take Amrian down. He offered me the opportunity to run the country here on Earth if I helped him deal with Merkatz. According to the coroner, he died of complications of an autoimmune disease. In reality, I’d been poisoning him. He’d die, and with no real successor to speak of, Mingo would sweep in and clean house. Then you showed up.”