Clara takes her glasses from on top of her head and puts them on. "Excuse me?"
"Isidore. You love him."
She doesn't say anything for a minute then she sighs. "I don't think that's an appropriate conversation between us, Master Director."
"Call me Blice."
"Sir, I-"
He sits next to her and puts his arm around her back. "I'm not trying anything. Okay? I just want to know how you feel about him."
"I'm really not comfortable with this." She looks down at Blice's hand slipping under the hem of her skirt. "Please don't."
"Oh." Blice removes his hands. "I am so sorry. Forgive me. I didn't realize what I was doing."
Clara giggles and smoothes her skirt. "It's fine. You're not used to working with women, are you?"
"Again, forgive me. I get easily distracted. I'm not demeaning your abilities or anything. You are a brilliant scientist. You're just . . . really attractive."
"Thank you." She starts typing again.
Damn, Blice. You have got to learn how to work with women. Is that where all of those sexual assault charges came from? No. It can't be something as simple as that. He's never harmed a woman before. He shakes his head and pours them each a cup of coffee. "How do you like your coffee?"
"Two sugars and a touch of cream, please."
"Sure." He places the sugar cubes in the cup.
"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" Clara asks.
"Go ahead."
"Have you ever hurt Isidore?"
Not this again. "Why would you ask something like that?"
"It's none of my business, but I heard a rumor."
Damn it. "What kind of rumor?"
"That you were using him as a sex slave."
Blice has to control his anger. "Who told you that?"
"Inquisitor Clark."
Of course. "Look at me, Clara. I swear on all that is holy that I never hurt him in that way. I'm not that kind of person. I love Isidore. He's like my brother."
"That's not what I've heard." Clara says.
"Tell me what you've heard." He hands her the cup of coffee.
"You used to keep him chained up and you'd beat him if he didn't do what you wanted. You raped him. That's why he's so scared to be intimate with me. He's scared to be hurt again."
"I will deny that with every fiber of my being." Blice says. "Yes, I used to do things to him that were terrible, but I never crossed that line. I did what my father told me to do, nothing more."
"Okay. I believe you, sir. I just thought you should know that those rumors are spreading like a disease. I heard that the Inquisition is starting to talk about removing you from office."
"Removing me? There is no basis for their accusations. They can't even get to Isidore's memories to find that evidence."
Clara gives him a questioning look.
"Not that there's anything there to find. Please. You have to believe me. I never hurt him like that. Look, if I had a way to prove it to you, I would. But I don't. I know I have done terrible things in the past and I wouldn't trust me either. However, know that I swear on my life I never abused him in that way."
Clara sighs and turns back to her work.
Blice grits his teeth and looks around at the photographs on the walls of him and Isidore. Why is he feeling guilty? He shouldn't feel guilty if there's nothing to hide. He was following orders. He had to do what his father wanted. It wasn't his fault. Besides, once Isidore finds out the truth about everything in his memories, all of Paradise will be out for Blice's blood. What's done is done and there's nothing that Blice can do to change it. He'll face whatever kind of justice awaits him.
"I'm just worried about him, Blice." Clara says.
"I know. I am too."
"Can I ask another question?"
Why not? It can't be worse than the first one. "What is it?"
"Isidore wasn't born a human, was he?"
Okay, so this one is worse than the first one. "That information is extremely classified. I can't speak on that subject."
"I am a scientist." Clara says. "I have worked in medical facilities and I have never seen wounds like he sustained heal that quickly without leaving hardly any scarring."
"I made sure he had the best medics." Blice says.
"And I ran some tests of my own." Clara says. "His skin has a different composition than a human's. His blood had some unidentifiable microscopic particles in it. I also analyzed his DNA. It doesn't match with any known human DNA sequences. There were an added two base pairs that were composing parts of his DNA. They appeared to be artificial. How does that work, Blice?"
"You're the scientist. You tell me."
"I don't want to get in trouble for dabbling in classified information that I don't have clearance for. You, however have maximum clearance and you could get all the information you wanted. I think you already know, though."
Of course he already knows. Blice knows everything there is to know about Isidore Williams. And the things he knows could get both him and Isidore exiled or executed. This is nothing to play around with. "I'll tell you more when the time comes, Clara."
"All right. I just want to help him live close to a normal life."
"I do too." Blice looks over the code on the screen. "How's that coming?"
"I've almost got it running. What's the plan from here?" Clara asks.
"I wanted to get another transport and go up there myself."
"Oh . . . that's not a good option." Clara says.
"Why?"
"Once I override Isidore's security programs, he could be connected to the space station security program. If he can't control his connectivity, he could shut the entire place down. What happens then?"
"Not much." Blice says. "It's in orbit. It probably won't be going anywhere any time soon."
"Oxygen. The oxygen circulation system that is supposedly already malfunctioning will completely shut down."
"Oh."
"You don't want to be up there when the oxygen is gone." Clara says.
"What about Isidore?"
"That's the major problem right now."
"That and Inquisitor Dark." Blice says. "Oh, you didn't tell me what your code green was about during the meeting."
"The language that the characteristics of the handwriting resembled was one that the T.I.M.E.s had developed about twenty years ago."
"During the uprising?" Blice asks.
"Exactly. I didn't want to say anything in case whoever this Inquisitor Dark is was in the building. I also didn't want Isidore to know anything about it in case he was questioned or interrogated about it later."
"So, you think that some rebel T.I.M.E.s might have set this entire thing up to lure some inquisitors onto the space station?"
"No. I think they wanted Isidore." Clara says.
"Why would they want him?"
"Don't play dumb. He has the alpha code."
"You know about that?" Blice asks.
"Don't worry. I'm not spreading that information around."
"Good. Don't."
Clara sits back in her chair and sips her coffee. "There. In a few minutes, Isidore's battery backup should turn on and we can only hope for the best."
12
Byron sits in the main hall of the space station and lights a candle with his flames. This isn't so bad. He picks at a croissant and smears some butter on it. It's actually really tasty. The water is a little stale, but other than that, it's nice in here. He could live on a ship like this. That bed he took a nap on was comfy. He really didn't mean to fall asleep, it just happened. He doubts he was asleep for more than ten minutes, though. This place is peaceful. Where did Damien and Isidore go? How is he supposed to be a bodyguard with no bodies to guard? Oh well. He'll sit here until they come back. Too bad the power went out. Now it will be more difficult to find them.
A sudden loud alarm brings Byron back into the present. Someone screams. Isidore. He sounds like he's in pain. And here Byron thought this was a
peaceful place. He goes off towards the screaming and uses his flames to light the way down the long hallways until he stops outside a large door. Here goes nothing. He takes a running start and is about to slam into it when it slides open and he falls flat on his face. When he picks himself up from the cold metal floor, he looks around at the numerous computers and machines lining the walls then his eyes land on the operating table in the corner. Isidore is strapped down with some kind of cables all around him.
A tall man in an inquisitor trench coat turns around. A black mask conceals his face from Byron. He's holding a screwdriver and a butcher knife.
"Get away from him." Byron says and holds up his shotgun.
"And you are?" The man asks with a foreign accent Byron has never heard.
"Byron Erikson."
"You're not an inquisitor." The man says.
"No, I'm not. Now back away from Isidore."
"Or what?"
"I'll shoot you." Byron threatens.
"Really? You think I'm scared of that?"
Byron shoots, but he has to duck as the shot ricochets off of the man's body armor. "Um . . . okay." He tosses down the shotgun and his flames spread up his wrists. "How about this?"
"You want to put that out immediately. Oxygen explodes, idiot."
He looks around the room at the tanks of oxygen. His flames dissipate. "Oh."
"You can't have the Created One."
"Created One? What are you talking about?"
"Are all humans that stupid?" The man asks.
"What?"
"Exactly."
Byron doesn't understand any of what is going on here. What does he do? He directs his attention back towards Isidore. Is he alive? He hasn't moved this entire time. "What do you want for him?"
"Nothing. He's not for sale."
Byron spots Isidore's watch on the counter. If he could get to it, he could call Blice and get some reinforcements up here within minutes. He's going for it. He lunges forward and grabs the watch. He presses the blue button. "Blice. Come in, Blice."
The man runs out of the room and something crashes down the hall.
"This is Blice. Who is this? Byron?"
"Yes. I found Isidore. He's unconscious."
"Is he breathing?" Blice asks.
"Yes."
"Okay. Listen to me carefully. Find the cable connected to his USB port."
"Got it."
"Cover his mouth with one hand to keep him from screaming. Now, try to hold him as still as you can and very gently remove the cable."
Isidore's eyes flash open and he bites Byron's hand then punches him the face before falling backwards off of the table.
"What was that crash?"
"Isidore falling off the table." Byron says and tries to not laugh.
"What happened?" Blice asks.
"He bit me." Byron says as he goes around and helps Isidore to his feet.
Isidore smiles at him. "Byron? This is the happiest I've ever been to see you."
"Can you walk?"
"I think so."
Clara comes over the speaker. "You two need to get out of there before whoever that was comes back. Head to the right then down the stairs."
"Any status on Damien?" Byron asks.
"Nothing." Clara says. "His partner Seth hasn't phoned in either. If something happened to Damien, Seth would let us know. Damien may be on poor terms with the Inquisition, but Seth is my good friend."
"Maybe there's something in the cargo hold that can help us."
"Give Isidore his watch back." Blice says. "I need to monitor his vital signs. He wasn't doing so good earlier."
Isidore winces with the pain.
"You okay?" Byron asks.
"Yeah. It's just this watch. It connects to my veins and nerves."
"That does sound painful."
"It's all good now. How am I looking, Blice?" Isidore asks.
"Your heart rate is all over the place, but it's better than it was earlier. Try to just relax and take some deep breaths. We will get you to a hospital as soon as you are back down here."
"Let's get out of here." Byron says.
"I need to grab my things." Isidore goes to the counter and slips something on his finger and secures his holster and gun around his waist. "Okay. Lead the way."
* * *
Byron and Isidore follow the tiny holographic map down the twisting hallways and through set after set of automatic doors. The lights start to come back on around them. For that, Isidore is grateful. They stop in front of a set of giant metal doors.
"That's the cargo hold." Blice says. "Go inside and see if there are any clues about what is going on."
The automatic door slides open and Isidore gasps as the lights flicker on and illuminate the room's contents.
Byron steadies himself in the doorway. "Damn."
Tears swell in Isidore's eyes as he looks around the room. "Blice . . . I can't do this. I'm going to be sick."
"What? What is it? What do you see? Did something happen?"
"Oh God. I don't know."
"Turn your camera on and show me. It's under applications." Blice says.
Isidore activates it and takes a few steps into the room. The smell is not helping his nausea. All one thousand two hundred and fifty-three T.I.M.E.s naked and flayed open, their blood and entrails slickening the floor. Their sculls have been sawed open.
"Oh my God." Blice says. "How? Who would do something like this? Wait. Look back at the wall."
In large letters of smeared blood it reads Their blood is on your hands, Master Director.
Clara whimpers and Blice sighs.
When Isidore sees her face streaked with blood, he falls to his hands and knees then vomits. His grandmother.
Byron runs to him. "Isidore, come on. We're getting out of here." He picks Isidore up and carries him out of the room.
They run down the hallways until Isidore stops in front of a room filled with computers. He steps inside and listens to all of them, buzzing and humming quietly in the silence. He runs his fingers over the monitors and the cables. They need his help. If he is going to escape, they need to leave as well.
Byron runs back once he realizes Isidore has stopped. "Isidore! Come on."
Isidore looks around the room at the monitors and the control panels. The beeping and quiet high pitched sound of the electronics call to him. They are begging him to stay and help them. He steps backwards, away from Byron. "Go without me. I need to stay here."
"What? Why?"
"They need me."
"The computers?" Byron asks.
"I love them." Isidore says.
"No, you don't. You can't love them."
"How would you know what I feel?" Isidore asks. "According to you and everyone else, I'm just a computer who can be programmed and rebooted whenever someone doesn't like something. I will never be able to love a human being like normal people. I can't leave them behind. They need me. I can't abandon them."
"They don't need you. They can't feel anything. Don't you understand? They aren't alive."
"They are innocent and trapped here. Don't be heartless."
Byron grabs Isidore's shoulders and shakes him. "You are a human being, Isidore. They don't love you, they never have loved you, and they never will love you. Whatever you are feeling for them isn't love. Don't try to trick yourself. Without the source powering them, they are only plastic, metal, and glass. Please listen to me and see that. They don't have hearts or souls or emotions."
"Neither do I."
"That's a lie and you know it."
Blice calls over the speaker of Isidore's watch. "What are you doing? Get out of there."
Byron takes Isidore's hand and talks into the communicator. "He's trying to stay here with some computers."
"Niko, please do what Byron says. I need you back down here with me."
"I can't leave them."
Clara's calming voice talks to him now. "Isidore, do this for me, okay? I need you and I will
die if something happens to you up there. You don't want that, do you? I'm waiting for you to come home. I love you. Will you please do what Byron tells you?"
She loves him? Isidore can't lose Clara and he will do whatever she wants of him. "Yes, ma'am. I'm leaving now."
"Thank you, Isidore."
Byron takes Isidore's arm and leads him down the hallway until Isidore stops again.
He holds up his watch. "Blice, I think I found the central controls for the ship."
"Good. Stay there." Blice says.
Something heavy hits the floor and the sound echoes around them. Isidore looks back to see the metal doors shutting off the hallway behind them. Isidore watches the ones in front of them start to close. "Go, Byron."
"No."
Blice calls over the speaker. "Tell my brother to get the hell out of there."
"Your brother?" Isidore asks.
"Damn it. Byron is my half-brother."
"Who didn't your father sleep around with?" Byron asks.
"We have the same mother, idiot."
"Oh."
"She was a hooker." Blice says.
"Well, this is unexpected."
"Why do you think you're not dead right now?"
"I thought you were just too much of a pansy man to finish me off." Byron says.
"Oh, so it's easy for you to talk shit when you're miles above Earth. Come say that to my face, Erikson."
"This only makes me hate you more."
"Good. Maybe you'll take orders now too. Go. You get to the transport. Isidore will join you a few minutes once he gets the ship controls functioning again."
Isidore pushes Byron out of the room. "Go!"
The metal door slams shut in Isidore's face. He pounds on it and tries to pry it open, but it won't budge. An alarm sounds somewhere deeper on the ship. He's trapped in this tiny room. He looks around as he starts to panic. He didn't think this through. As a few minutes pass and he tries to figure out what control panel is the one he needs to work on, his watch beeps a few times. He holds it up and taps the screen. His oxygen meter flashes red. "Blice, I'm trapped. The doors shut and locked automatically."
"I'm looking into it right now. Clara, pull up the security profile of the space station. See if you can figure out what's going on."
Paradise of Lead Trilogy Page 36