Clara's tender voice breaks the silence. "Are your wounds healed?"
"Yeah. Everything's good now. Thank you for all you did for me. I'm sorry for leaving like I did. I was confused and scared."
"How did I scare you, Isidore?"
"I was starting to . . . feel things." Isidore says as he looks at the hem of Clara's short black skirt. Her legs look so smooth. No. Stop. He can't think like this. He shouldn't be thinking about a human like this. It is wrong.
"Oh. Oh I see. I thought we determined that was just because of the electronics I had."
"Maybe you're right."
"So, do you have another computer in your life?"
Isidore looks into her pale green eyes. She's the only human besides Blice who truly understands the way he feels about technology. "Not really. Guess I still haven't moved on from Vanessa."
"Oh. Sorry if I made you sad by asking."
"No, it's okay." Isidore takes her hand in his. Why is he doing this? He doesn't want her to leave. She needs to stay right here with him. He never should have left her house where they were happy and were friends.
"You left something at my house when you drove off." Clara says.
"What did I-"
Clara tangles her fingers in Isidore's hair and pulls him close to her. Her soft lips touch his and her warm breath spreads over him.
If Isidore's mind was messed up before, it is completely destroyed now. He's in shock and he can't move. He can't even breathe.
Clara lets him go and giggles. "Are you okay?"
No. Nothing about this is okay.
"Isidore?"
What can he say? "Yes?"
"Did I hurt you? Say something, please."
"Um . . . I'm okay."
"Was that too far? I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize, Clara. I don't know what's going on. I'm feeling that way again and I don't like it."
Her hand moves down his chest and to his belt. "Don't be ashamed of how you feel, Isidore. I can teach you."
Isidore's heart is racing and his mouth goes dry. This arousal is too much for him to deal with right now. He pushes her hand away. "Please don't do this. I can't be with a human."
"It will be our little secret. I have missed you so much since you left. I was so scared that something had happened to you. I wanted to show you how much I love you. You gave me so much and I want to repay you."
"Not like this. You can do anything else, just don't do this. I've never been with a woman before and I'm not meant to be. These thoughts and feelings I am experiencing right now are wrong on so many levels. Blice is going to know something has happened."
Clara puts her arms around him. "It's okay. I understand."
"Thank you."
"Well, I must be going now." She stands and puts her coat back on. "I'll try to keep in touch. Take care of yourself and I hope you enjoy your new life."
Isidore goes to her and wipes the tear from her eye. "Don't cry, Clara. You know I hate it when you cry."
"Then don't be the one to make me cry." Clara leaves and slams the door behind her.
3
When Blice comes home without a word and slams the door behind him, Isidore knows he's done something wrong. For the entire time he's been here, Blice has never acted like this. Isidore looks around and tries to find a place to hide, but Blice steps into the living room and smiles at him.
"Hello, Isidore."
Why is he smiling like that? "Hello, Blice."
The two men stare at each other for a long few seconds. Isidore wants to run away and crawl under his bed. Blice crosses his arms. "Talk to me, Isidore. I know you want to ask me something."
He does? Isidore tries to find something to ask about. Oh, his arm. "Can I ask you a question, Blice?"
"Why so formal? Did Damien and Byron give you a hard time? Don't let them get to you."
"What's this bruise from?"
"You hurt yourself." Blice says as he removes his trench coat and his suit jacket.
"I don't remember hurting myself. This looks pretty bad."
"You were sleepwalking and ran into the doorknob to your bedroom. I had to carry you back to bed."
Sleepwalking? "Oh. I've never done that before."
"Must be a new side effect from your operating system." Blice rolls up his sleeves and sits next to Isidore on the sofa. "As long as we're talking, why don't you tell me about your day?"
Isidore looks into the purple eyes where the glitter of malice lives so vibrantly now. So this is what Blice wants to know. Surely he can't know about Clara. "I got in a fight with Damien because he was telling me that you were hurting me. I had him and Byron sent out of Paradise. Then I came back here and have been doing some maintenance on my programs."
"Are you sure that's all that happened? You didn't meet with anyone else?" Blice asks as he takes Isidore's hand and squeezes tightly.
"Nope. I came right back here and I've been organizing my files ever since."
"Come with me and connect this cord to your USB port." Blice hands him a cable and goes into his office.
Nothing good ever happens when someone tells Isidore to connect a cable to his head. But he doesn't want to make Blice angry so he does and goes into the office. He looks around at the computer monitors and the machinery that Blice has been working on. He's generally not allowed in here except for when he is working on something for Blice and the Inquisition.
Blice shuts the door and motions to his chair. "Have a seat and we will begin."
He obeys again and closes his eyes as the cord is connected to one of the computers. The gentle current of the electricity awakens a deeper part of his mind and he can see Blice navigating through his files.
"I will give you one more chance to tell me the complete truth about what happened today. If you have left out anything that you think I need to know, then tell me now and we will talk through it."
"There wasn't anything else, Blice." Isidore says. Why is he opening an application? What is that? He's never seen that before.
"I see." Blice launches the program and turns the screen so Isidore can see. "Does this help you remember?"
An image flashes on the screen. Clara. Isidore sees everything as he had when she was here. His answering the door, them talking . . . the kiss. Everything is there in perfect clarity. No way. "How . . ."
"You record everything you see when I have your internal camera turned on. I can also hear everything you heard. So, do you want to explain this to me or do I have to make you tell me what was going on?"
Since when does this kind of program exist? What else has Blice seen? He vows that he will go through and find all of the audio and video files before Blice has another chance to figure out anything. It is quite unsettling to find out that every word you have said and everything you've done has the potential to have been recorded and used against you. There's no denying it now. "She kissed me."
"And?"
"I didn't like it." Isidore says. "I told her to stop then she got upset and left."
"Did you feel anything for her?"
Isidore is silent.
"Do you like her, Isidore?" Blice asks.
"As a friend. I'm sorry. I know you said I can't have friends. She showed up and I was trying to be a good person."
"I see. If she comes anywhere near you, you are to ignore her. Don't say another word to her. If she comes here, you don't answer the door. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Blice."
"Now, I am sorry." Blice says as a blue hologram cube appears on the top of the desk.
"What are you sorry for?"
"What I'm about to do. I don't want to do this, but I can't have you disobeying orders."
"I didn't mean to, Blice." Isidore says, starting to panic as Blice takes off his Inquisition insignia.
"I know. However, I can't look the other way. It's the first time you have messed up and I will go easy on you."
"Please don't. I'm sorry. I'll never talk to her again. I won't."
"I understand." Blice says. "That does not mean that you get to avoid punishment."
"What are you going to do?"
"When I gave you your new operating system, I also installed some interesting programs that are unique for T.I.M.E.s. More specifically, they use your computer side to manipulate your human side. Basically, I can have your electronic brain control and alter your pain sensors in your body. I can deliver intense pain to any part of your body without leaving a mark on you. Nice, isn't it? I can't have you walking around with bruises and cuts. The great thing? I can control it from wherever I am. You don't even have to be connected to anything. Brilliant technology. It has been adapted from a program they used to use on the first T.I.M.E.s before they went into space. I wonder how you will respond. You are more computer than they are, after all. It's called a Technological Intelligence Management Experiment control program."
Isidore looks into his eyes. "Please don't hurt me."
"Calm down, Niko. This will only hurt for a few minutes then it will be over and we can go on to more pleasant things. If you try to fight back or beg, you will only suffer more. Is that clear?"
Isidore looks down at the floor. "Yes, Blice."
Blice slips the golden insignia into the blue hologram and hits a button on the keyboard.
Isidore screams out as the searing pain courses through his legs. His fingernails dig into the arms of the chair. His vision begins to blur and tears stream down his face. The electric feeling burns his legs and the muscles cramp as he cries out, but Blice doesn't stop. Just when Isidore begins to lose consciousness, Blice removes his insignia from the blue hologram. Isidore's body collapses in the chair and he can't stop himself from sobbing.
"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Blice asks and removes the USB cable from Isidore's head. "Stop crying. The next time you disobey my orders, it will be worse. I also have many other new things to try out if you decide that my rules don't matter anymore. Now get up and follow me."
Isidore doesn't move.
"I order you to stand."
Isidore stands, but his legs give out and he falls with just his arms to catch him.
"Can you not walk?"
"No, Blice. My legs won't work." Isidore mumbles through his tears.
"Oh my God. I'm sorry." Blice picks Isidore up and carries him to his bedroom. He gently helps him into bed. "I had no idea I was hurting you that badly. Isidore? Niko, talk to me."
Isidore buries his face in the pillows. "What do you want me to say?"
"Are you still hurting?"
"Yes, I'm still hurting."
Blice runs his hands over Isidore's hair. "I didn't think it would do that to you. I never tested it before."
He never even tested it? "I deserved it. You're right."
"No."
"I disobeyed you and I had to have my punishment."
"I wanted to punish you, but not do this." Blice reaches under Isidore, unbuttons his pants, and removes them. "Just relax."
As Blice massages his legs, Isidore twists the sheets in his hands until his fingers go numb. The burning still shoots up into his hips and it is all he can do to keep from crying out. If he makes a sound, he doesn't know what Blice will do to him so he bites down on the edge of his pillow and focuses on breathing. But Blice's hands are helping to dull the cramping in his muscles. Eventually, the throbbing pain subsides and Isidore falls asleep with the man he both trusts and fears holding him and wiping the sweat from his neck.
4
Byron and Damien sit in the sand outside of Rubble City and watch the sand blowing across the debris-littered desert. Even though the sun is hot on their skin, the wind is cool and provides a welcome relief from the blazing heat. The lead walls of Paradise are still visible through the haze, just on the horizon between the mountain ranges.
Byron uses his flames to light Damien's cigarette and he passes it back to him. "There ya go."
"Thanks." Damien tries to untangle his matted blonde hair with his fingers. "So, are we just going to sit out here and do nothing forever?"
"I want to get Isidore." Byron says. "We aren't nearly as awesome without him."
"You know what? I have a plan. We're gonna get him out of there."
"There's nothing we can do. Besides, he doesn't think anything is wrong."
"True. I wonder why he can't see the danger he's truly in." Damien says.
"Because Blice won't let him remember the truth. Something is going on between those two and I don't like it. That bruise had to come from Blice. Isidore isn't clumsy in the slightest."
"You know that, I know that, but Isidore won't realize it until it's too late. He looks like he has been eating fine. If only there was a way for us to watch and see what he does when it's just him and Blice. I'm starting to have other suspicions."
"Like what?" Byron asks.
"Why would a programmer trained by the best inquisitors in Paradise not install an operating system in his own personal computer? Then why would Isidore become lost in the wasteland for years?"
"You know, that is a good question."
"Maybe Isidore didn't get lost." Damien says. "What if he ran away?"
"And that's why the Inquisition has been searching for him."
"What if Blice didn't want Isidore trying to fight back when he abused him so he never gave him an operating system and erased his memories so he would only see the good times they had together. Those memories could have just been made up."
"Are we over thinking this?" Byron asks.
"I'm still going to stand by this theory as a possibility."
The sound of an engine nearby breaks through their conversation.
"What is that sound?" Damien stands and looks up as a large spherical silver object flies through the air and lands out in the desert. A trail of smoke is left dissipating into the light blue sky. The sun glints off of the metal. "I think that's a space transport. Come on, let's go have a look before the Inquisition finds out about this."
* * *
"I hope you like pancakes."
What? Isidore stirs awake under his blankets. Pancakes? Oh dear God, not more of Blice's cooking. He stretches his legs out and he's relieved to find that most of the soreness is gone. Maybe he'll be able to walk today. Or run. He could run far, far away and hide where Blice won't find him. Though, Blice probably installed that tracking device already. Well, here goes nothing. Isidore peeks out from under the covers. Blice is sitting next to the bed watching him.
"Hi."
Isidore doesn't want to talk to him. "Hi."
"I made you breakfast." Blice says with a smile.
"Why?"
"Because I feel bad about yesterday."
"Don't."
Blice pushes Isidore's silver bangs out of his face. "But I hurt you and I never want to actually hurt you."
"If that is the punishment I deserved, then there's nothing you have to apologize about." Isidore says.
"Stop talking like that, please. I'm sorry. I truly am. Now get up and get dressed so you can come eat your pancakes."
Isidore hides his face under the blankets again. It's Saturday, isn't it? This is why Blice is still here and not at work yet. If he is planning on spending the day with Isidore, this could very well be the worst day of his life. If he stays here and pretends to be asleep, will Blice go away?
"Isidore, please get up and tell me you can walk."
Seems like that's a no. Isidore groans and pushes back the blankets. He gingerly touches his feet to the floor, in fear that the shooting pain will return. When there's nothing, he stands and takes a couple of steps. "I can walk, Blice."
"Good. We have work to do. You are going on your first real assignment. We both will be going out into the wasteland to investigate an unidentified spacecraft that has crashed near Rubble City. I think you can have this back now." Blice tosses Isidore's revolver on the bed. "I will be taking it back when we're done, though. The other inquisitors don't feel safe with a computer carrying
a gun."
He had been wondering where that went. It will be nice to have it again, even if it is only temporary. Isidore slips on his jeans and tan trench coat. Blice is going to make him eat the damned pancakes so he goes into the kitchen and sits at the table.
"Here ya go, buddy." Blice places a plate with four pancakes in front of Isidore. "Eat up. We have a long day ahead of us."
Isidore honestly isn't hungry. What kind of torture is Blice going to put him through today? Was he telling the truth? Did he really not mean to hurt him that bad last night? Either way, Blice is sitting next to him and pouting at him with his dark pathetic violet eyes. Isidore picks up the maple syrup. Fine. He'll eat the damn pancakes.
* * *
Isidore stays a couple steps behind Blice and to his left as he has been instructed while they walk down the streets of Paradise. He's glad, too. This way Blice can't see the apprehension and depression hanging over him. Today just isn't Isidore's day. He would give almost anything to go inside and back to bed then stay there until he dies.
"You can talk, Niko."
Isidore remains silent and follows in Blice's footsteps. He doesn't want to risk saying something wrong or doing anything that Blice will find as disobeying.
"I'm sorry." Blice says. "How many times do I have to say that? All you're doing now is making me angry. Say something."
"What do you want me to say?"
"Anything. Tell me what you think is going on, tell me about the dreams you had last night, tell me that you forgive me."
Isidore rolls his eyes. "I think an unidentified spacecraft crashed nearby. I dreamt that you killed me. I forgive you."
"That was the worst conversation ever. Hold on." Blice turns around and grabs Isidore's shoulders. "You dreamt that I killed you?"
"Yes. You used that program again and my heart stopped beating." Isidore says.
"I'm not using that again. Never again." He holds Isidore to his chest. "I'll find something else."
Why does he keep apologizing? Perhaps Blice does care. "It's okay, Blice. I'm fine, really." Is he . . . crying?
Paradise of Lead Trilogy Page 30