by K. C. Sivils
Still sweating from my time with Dmitry, I found myself paying more attention to wiping the sweat off my brow than my surroundings.
When the guards tasered me, my last thought before blacking out was I’d made a big mistake.
I BELIEVE YOU'VE JUST overplayed your hand, my dear Andrea. Killing cons at will and the occasional Corrections Officer is one thing. I've indulged in that myself. Killing an Alliance Inspector? Not even I am ready to do that.
Sally watched as the unconscious Sullivan was unceremoniously dragged into the Administrative Segregation unit and dumped into a solitary confinement unit and left.
Oh, my. I’m feeling a bit mischievous Andrea. My dear Gravestone, I rather like the Inspector. If he is to die, it will be by my hand, not yours. This will be fun.
SITTING IN ONE PLACE, particularly one that confined her and denied her the ability to leave if she felt it necessary always made Sarah anxious. Seated in the enclosed space on a hard bench with a clear plastisteel window separating her tiny grey room from the one across from her was troubling Sarah.
If Ellie didn’t come soon, sister or not, Sarah could not wait. She needed to escape the claustrophobic confines of the prison grey room.
The door to the other room opened. Wrists and feet shackled, bent over at the waist, head covered in a black sack and a guard’s arm laced through the prisoner’s own, the con struggled to walk. The guard relinquished her grip on the prisoner’s arm, allowing the prisoner to stand. Another guard pulled the black sack off.
Long brown hair cascaded out, revealing Ellie’s red, sweaty face. In pain and breathing hard, Ellie stumbled as she sat down. One of the guards shoved the bench forward while the other turned on the comm system.
“You are being filmed and your conversation recorded,” the guard informed the two women.
When the door closed, Ellie leaned close to the clear plastisteel separating her from Sarah. Her teeth clenched, her beautiful features twisted, Sarah's sister hissed. "I hate you!"
Feeling her own anger rising, Sarah leaned forward. “You’re just jealous.”
“Jealous of what? The fact you can heal quickly? Stand uncomfortable temperatures? Big deal! I’m the smart one!”
“So what? You made Maria unhappy! You made me unhappy! You're a miserable clone, Ellie!"
“You should have been the one locked up like a lab rat! Not me!”
Sarah folded her arms and leaned back.
"Seems to me those unique skills I have, you know the ones that aren't worth much? The ones that allowed me to escape while they caught you? Yeah, those genetic traits. Those are why I'm free, and you're not. So don't think you're all that Ellie."
Ellie lunged at the wall, pounding it with both her fists. Spittle flew from her lips, sprinkling the transparent wall with fluid. "I hate you! I hate you! Why did you leave me?"
“If I hadn’t, we both would have been trapped. Then neither of us would be free. One of us had to be free in order for the other to escape.”
"Oh, that's a good excuse if I ever heard one sis. You just tell yourself that so you don't feel guilty."
Sarah tilted her head to the right and shot daggers with her eyes at Ellie. “I tell myself that because it’s the truth.”
Ellie lunged for the separating wall again, pounding her fists with fury. Sarah sat quietly and watched as her sister vented her anger on the indestructible glass.
“Sit down, Ellie.”
To Sarah's surprise, her sister did as ordered. The smile on Ellie's face troubled Sarah. Something was wrong.
“You don’t know what I went through to find you. How I suffered. What I suffered.”
"Well, you seem to be doing just fine, sister Sarah. Oh, and I got a look at that big strong man, the Inspector. What's his name? Sullivan, Thomas Sullivan. Yeah, you've suffered.”
“You just don’t understand Ellie.”
“Oh, but I do. You have a protector now. We both know the arrangement you’ve made. Is he at least good in bed sister Sarah?”
Sarah struggled to keep her clinched and by her side so Ellie would not see she’d touched a nerve.
“It’s not like that Ellie. You leave the Inspector out of this!”
“Oh, but it is like that sister Sarah,” Ellie taunted. “You have a big strong man to take care of you while I’m locked up doing this and that and being told what to do and when to do it.”
Remembering Sully’s constant admonitions to be calm and patient, Sarah counted to ten. “Ellie, I wanted to talk to you, not fight with you. I want to get you out of here.”
“Sure you do. I know it was your Inspector who had them lock me back up. I guess one little princess is all he can handle.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Sarah informed her sister, her voice filled with sadness. “I’ll visit you again now that I know where you are.”
Sarah stood and turned to leave. She reached for the controls to open the door. Ellie laughed, the long, loud laugh of someone unhinged. “That’s what you think sis!”
Puzzled, Sarah turned. Her breath came up short at the shock of what she saw. Ellie's face was red and sweaty. Her smile was evil and broad, covering the width of her once beautiful face. Ellie's eyes were bloodshot and red, her breath coming quickly like a panting animal.
"You're not going anywhere, my dear sister! In fact, we're going to have a little fight like we did the other day. Except this time, it will be in a ring.” Ellie turned and shuffled over to the door in her room and pressed the call button for the guards. “This time you won’t be alive when I’m done with you.”
Paralyzed by the shock of her sister’s dreadful words, Sarah didn’t notice the door to her room opening or the guard who administered the injection of sedative that knocked her out. She just remembered the evil, hateful look on her sister Ellie’s face. The look when Ellie told Sarah she was going to kill her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I FIDGETED AS I SAT on the bunk in the holding cell, waiting. I thought about catching up on my sleep. The thought of what could be happening to Sarah kept me awake. Father Nathan could take of himself.
The problem of the moment as I saw it was controlling my temper when I got out. Rage has a way of clouding my thinking at times, keeping me from the right course of action.
When the door to the holding area opened, and Corona walked in, my anger issues multiplied.
“Why am I being held?”
“You murdered two of my officers,” Corona replied stoically.
“That’s a lie.”
“We have evidence,” was his muted answer.
“You will after I kill you when I get out of this cell.”
He smiled and sat down in an old, scarred plastic chair across from the cell.
“Nobody has ever escaped in the history of Graham,” was his stoic response.
“There’s always a first.”
I pushed down my anger and carefully observed the man. He looked exhausted, the kind of fatigue that builds up over long periods of time. One small thing after another piling up on a man until the weight of his burden is too much.
Things like loss of control.
“Who’s running this thing? You? Gravestone? Someone on the outside?”
Corona wasn’t too tired to smile, if you wanted to call the smirk on his face a smile. I mainly just felt the urge to slap it off him.
“Always the cop. Good for you Inspector.”
“Why not tell me? Seems like I’m going back to Beta Prime in a body bag if I go back at all.”
“We’ll just bury you in the prison cemetery,” the warden promised.
“Yeah, would do to have a proper autopsy, now would it?”
That got a chuckle out of him.
“One thing I’ve learned from this entire episode. There is someone in the Alliance who doesn’t like me, the operation here. Why else would you be assigned to the cases here?”
“I’d like to know the answer to that one too.” It was my turn to chu
ckle with a smile. “This isn’t the first mess I’ve stepped in since being assigned to Beta Prime. Somebody else seems to drag me into things that get out of hand quick.”
Corona stood to leave. “It’s a shame we had to meet like this. Under different circumstances, I think we could have gotten along famously.”
I took one last chance.
“So long as it was before you were bent. Is she worth it?”
The man stopped, his back turned to me. He looked over his shoulder and scowled. “I wasn’t always the man I am today Inspector.”
As the door closed, I promised myself before I left this airless rock I would deal with Corona. I leaned back against the wall and looked at my surroundings again, looking for something I’d missed.
Sitting there, it struck me how depressing a color prison grey paint is.
GRAVESTONE ENJOYED the quiet, the peace she found standing in the center of the ring, looking out at the private venue she'd built. Looking up at the vaulted domed ceiling above, carved from the dark stone by dead convicts, Gravestone smiled at the results of her vision, of what her efforts had built.
Rows of comfortable, cushioned seats circled the ring in the center. Each row higher than the one before it, making certain each seat in the venue had an unobstructed view. Aisles separated the seating into sections, allowing her to make sure those who should not mix never did. At the top of the last row of seats were the luxury boxes.
Gravestone smiled. Maximum profit for everyone involved, especially the Society. Attractive women from the female units served as call girls for the clients who desired them, all in the privacy and comfort of their luxury suite. It would never do for the high rollers to get bored between fights.
Above the luxury suites were the newly mounted screens, allowing replays and highlights to be played to up tempo music. When not running vids the latest odds, scores, and statistics would be displayed. Augmented cons dressed in black casino style garb would work the aisles and suites, delivering whatever consumable the customer wanted, for a price, and taking wagers right up till the latest bout started.
The entire operation was a stroke of genius. Almost no labor cost. No rent for the premium venue. Beta Prime was just out of the way enough to operate without the suspicious, snooping eyes of the Alliance prying into the affairs of the Society. Located as it was on an intergalactic telecommunications route allowing for the smooth transfer of funds and broadcast signal. Pay-per-view and online wagering had allowed the operation to explode into an unimaginably profitable enterprise.
Beta Prime’s growing winter tourism trade had been the final appealing draw for the idle rich and other elites. The last event had proved to be a fertile recruiting ground for the Society.
Andrea stood on the edge of a brilliant success, one that would propel her high into the secret ranks of leadership within the Society. Untold power and wealth would be hers.
Standing between Gravestone and her ascension was this one final event she would manage. It would take mere days to clean up and eliminate the loose ends. That included her short-sighted leash holder, the dour, boring MacAuliffe. The only regret, if she could call it that, was Corona was one of the loose ends that had to be tied up.
Had the man not gone weak kneed on her, Gravestone might have considered allowing Corona to run the operation under her watchful eye. She’d even considered finding him another blonde to serve as his leash holder.
It didn't matter now. This event would be the single most profitable one-time influx of revenue for the Society in its history. Billions of credits. She smiled at the irony. The elites seldom parted with their own money to fund their vision. In a single day, she would separate many of the same people from their hoarded riches to support that very secret organization.
STANDING BY THE VIEW screen in the waiting area of the small spaceport at Graham, Father Nathan watched shuttle after shuttle land. Well-groomed individuals, mostly men, some escorted by what could only be mistresses or trophy wives, exited cheerfully, clearly having a good time.
Nothing particularly suspicious he noted. Resort trade, the growing tourism industry on Beta Prime and its moons wanted the wealthy to visit. In deed, they wanted to separate these individuals from their money as quickly and as efficiently as possible.
What struck the priest as odd was the fact none of the travelers were searched or had to go through customs. They simply passed through the airlock and waited for their ground shuttle.
Noting a man carrying his own suitcase, an anomaly in itself with this crowd, Father Nathan visually measured the man. Slipping into the mindset of the former special forces operative he was, he followed the man towards the restroom. Noting the man set his bag down by sinks before heading to the privacy of a stall, the priest made a quick decision.
He prayed silently to himself. Father in Heaven forgive me. If I don’t do this, my friends will die.
A quick glance indicated no other passengers or guards were present. He bent over and picked up the small suitcase and nonchalantly walked out. Returning to the view screen, he sat down on a bench to continue observing the passengers disembarking from one shuttle while other shuttles waited in line.
He looked down quickly at the case. It bore no identifying marks save for a digital name tag. Recalling old skills he'd pushed deep into the recesses of his mind, it took less than a minute for the priest to break the electronic lock and enter his current identity.
Minutes later the traveler emerged, furious his case had been stolen. Father Nathan settled comfortably on the padded bench and closed his eyes, feigning sleep. To any guard who would approach, he looked like nothing more than a tired traveler taking a quick nap while waiting for the next stage of his journey.
It didn’t take long before he felt the gentle touch of a guard.
"Excuse me, sir. Father? Please, if you don't mind."
Playing his role, the priest gave a small start and opened his eyes. He looked around as if momentarily confused, waking up in unfamiliar surroundings.
“Yes, officer,” he replied. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes. “What can I do for you?”
“Why are you sitting here,” the guard asked politely while the victim of Father Nathan’s theft fumed close behind.
The priest smiled. “Just enjoying the view of God’s creation while I wait for my shuttle back. I've finished my business for this visit, and I had some time. Figured I might as well wait here...I guess I just drifted off."
“This gentleman’s case was stolen. Based on the description Father, yours is identical.”
“Oh, my. That’s terrible.” Standing up quickly, Father Nathan picked up the case with both hands and held it out for the guard and his angry victim to examine.
"That's mine," the man sputtered. "At least it's exactly like mine, but that's not my information on the ID tag, and it is one of those with an electronic lock."
The three stood in silence for a moment. The traveler glared first at Father Nathan, then his bag before finally looking at the priest with an accusatory glance
“That’s an awfully expensive case for a priest.”
“Indeed,” Father Nathan replied politely, smiling as he did so. “It was a gift from the Archbishop on Damascus II,” he lied.
It was a good enough answer for the guard. Eager to send the angry man on his way, the guard began to retreat to the safety of his kiosk at the security checkpoint.
“Father, I’m sorry to have bothered you. We’ll leave you so you can wait for your shuttle in peace.”
The guard turned and walked away. Shocked, the angry passenger glared at Father Nathan, his mouth open in surprise at not getting his way. Forgetting the matter of the stolen case, the man transferred his anger to the hapless guard and followed. Father Nathan's victim berated the guard, demanded first the guard's name, then the name of his supervisor, promising the guard would be fired before his shift was done.
He sat back down and looked out into space, watching with the wonder he alway
s felt when viewing Creation.
“Thank you God,” Father Nathan whispered aloud. “Now I have another request.”
FRIGHTENED MORE BY the need to escape the confines of the tiny room than the fact she had been abducted, Sarah paced from one side of her tiny prison to the other. Her arms folded across her chest and hair in disarray, Sarah tried to stop the waves of anxiety she felt washing over her from causing the shakes.
Replaying the conversation with Ellie, Sarah couldn’t understand what had caused her sister to change into something so unrecognizable. So filled with unreasoning hatred. Sarah knew she could reason with Ellie if given a chance.
Ellie didn’t know what Sarah had been through during the quest to find her missing sister. The times Sarah herself had been captured by men intent on doing her ill. Or the time a particularly vile woman who planned to sell her organs off one at a time.
How could Ellie know? She hadn’t been there when these horrible things had happened. Ellie didn’t know what Sarah had done to escape those situations and look for the next clue that ultimately led her to Beta Prime.
Sarah stopped. One thought, in particular, allowed her to clear her mind of the anxiety threatening to overwhelm her. Sitting down on the floor, Sarah leaned against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her shins, she closed her eyes. Sarah pictured the man who had saved her. Saved her from the predator who'd hunted her down and nearly killed her during the first weeks on Beta Prime.
Sullivan was not like the others. Ellie just didn’t understand. He hadn't tried to take advantage of Sarah that way. Sully had just protected her. Saved her life not once, but twice, nearly losing his own in the process.
Sully had given Sarah a job. One she was proud of, a job that let her use the gifts she’d been engineered to possess for good. He let her come and go when the wanderlust struck. He let her even though he didn’t understand.
Because of Sully, she had other's who looked out for her. People Sarah trusted as much as she could trust anyone. Ralph and Alice who looked after her and the other street children Father Nathan took in. Josephson had even warmed up to her. Joe always saw to it she had something warm to eat when she hung out at his place. Giganto and Baldie were fun to tease when Sully wasn’t around.