Kazimir rolls up his sleeves and removes Isidore's handcuffs. "I see. I knew this day would come, but I didn't expect you to have evolved so soon. Well, stand up and get ready to fight. If you win, I'll let you go back into the wasteland and you can make your own informed choices about the plan. There's one condition, though. If you speak a single word about all of this, you will be permanently shut down. I have the power to do that from here. What do you say, Created One? Will you fight me for your freedom?"
Isidore rubs his wrists where the handcuffs had been. A fight for his freedom? Freedom isn't free. Even as the determination rises within him, he knows there is no way he can possibly win this battle. Kazimir is a foot and half taller and twice Isidore's weight. Still . . . even if he loses, he will know that he tried. He looks straight into Kazimir's dark eyes. "I will fight you and I will win."
18
Blice stirs awake and reaches out for Isidore, but his friend isn't there. He sits up and looks frantically around the room. "Niko?"
"He's not here." Damien says, already awake and typing at his computer.
"Where did he go?"
"Hell if I know. He wasn't here when I woke up. He was in bed with you. I thought you would have noticed if he left in the middle of the night. Why was he in bed with you in the first place?"
"He has nightmares and gets scared." Blice says with a smile. "I was sleeping on the floor, but he asked me to hold him."
"Maybe you aren't as heartless as I first thought."
The door opens and Blice jumps up to greet Isidore, but his hopes are dashed when Byron enters the room. "Hello, Byron."
"Blice? What the hell are you doing here?"
"I got exiled from Paradise by my father."
"Where's Isidore?" Byron asks as he tosses his bag down and kicks off his boots.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out."
Damien stands and stretches. "You can use my computer."
"Thank you." Blice says.
Damien starts making coffee as Blice works. "So, what are you doing?"
"Trying to find Isidore. I thought we discussed this already. His tracking device is bugging up." The quiet beeping comes from under the blankets on the bed Isidore and Blice had been sleeping in. "His watch is on the bed, isn't it?"
Byron pulls the blankets back. "Yep." He tosses it to Blice.
"I knew I should have installed that internal tracker on him."
"You really aren't good with computers, are you?" Byron asks.
"Call me an extreme specialist."
"What's more specific than T.I.M.E.s?"
"Just Isidore. I don't know about other computers or other T.I.M.E.s. I only know about him. I make mistakes sometimes when I try to think of him as just another computer. He's tricky."
There's a knock at the door and someone pushes it open. An authoritative-looking man with slicked back grey hair and steel grey eyes enters the room in a wheelchair and holds out his arms. "Partner."
"Seth!" Damien goes to him and hugs him. "What are you doing here?"
"Tell me you've heard the reports. Step outside and listen." Seth looks at Blice and chuckles. "Blice McSage . . . it's been a long time. I hope you don't value your life too highly. The Rubble Rebels will love making you suffer. Your name is already circulating around the city as being involved in this."
Blice steps forward and looks out the window as gunfire rings out in the city. "What is going on?"
"Two spies were captured and from the sound of it, were just executed." Seth says. "They are blaming the Inquisition."
"I have to get out of here." Blice opens the door and gasps when he is met by a group of Rubble Rebels. They must have been waiting on him.
"Well, look who it is, men. Grab him."
Before Blice can turn to run, the Rubble Rebels are on him, taking his arms and dragging him across the street to the headquarters. "Damien! Help me." Blice calls out to him, but he knows that Damien would rather watch him die.
Damien smiles and waves goodbye to Blice. "Have fun."
"No! Let me go." Blice attempts to pull away, but it's useless.
The rebels push him through the front doors and down the hallway to the large room filled with computers at the end. "Commander, we found Blice McSage in our city."
Commander Alexi turns to them from his desk and grins darkly. "Really? So he's the one who issued this attack. We'll get answers out of him. Bring in the bucket."
Bucket? What bucket? The hands around his arms are bruising him and the room of Rubble Rebels scowls at him, their eyes filled with rage and bloodlust. What has he gotten himself into? Two men drag in a large metal bucket filled with water and Blice starts to panic.
Alexi comes up to Blice and looks into his eyes. "Well, I'll be damned. Master Director of the Inquisition . . . held here against his will and about to be tortured by Rubble Rebels. They were right. Revenge is sweet. You will pay for what you've done. We were ready to forgive and forget what the Inquisition has done, but you went against your promise by sending those spies we executed. How does it feel to know that two of your inquisitors were gunned down not even an hour ago?" He punches Blice in the face. "Now, tell us why you ordered this attack."
"I didn't order an attack."
Alexi snaps his fingers and two Rubble Rebels take Blice's arms and drag him over to the large bucket of water. They push him to his knees and force his head under the water. Blice struggles to get free from them, but their grasp is like iron and he holds his breath as long as he can. They're going to kill him. His nose and mouth fill with water and just when he thinks he is going to die, they pull him out of the water. He chokes and tries as hard as he can to breathe again.
"Tell us why you issued an attack when we had an agreement from your father that Rubble City would remain untouched by Inquisition forces."
Blice is shaking and his lungs burn. He doesn't want to go back under the water. However, he refuses to be blamed for something he had nothing to do with. He always thought the Rubble Rebels were above using torture. He coughs again and his voice is weak as he speaks, looking directly into Commander Alexi's eyes. "I didn't order an attack."
Alexi motions to the bucket again.
"No! Stop." Blice screams out, but the rebels push him back under the water until he stops struggling and begins to pass out. This time, he vomits when they pull him out of the water then screams which only makes his throat burn more.
Alexi stands over him and holds up a cattle prod. "Why did you order an attack?"
Blice pulls against the men holding his arms, but he's too weak now to offer much protest, even as the cattle prod is moved below his belt and dangerously close to him. They wouldn't. That's too far even for them. He looks down at the floor and resigns to their twisted plans. He has nothing to say to them.
"Answer the question." Alexi insists. "You're the head of the Inquisition in the Rubble Rebel headquarters. You should have expected to not get a warm welcome. I suggest you tell us everything you know or you will be in a lot more pain."
Blice closes his eyes and whispers to them. "I couldn't have ordered an attack even if I wanted to. I'm not the leader of the Inquisition anymore. I was exiled from Paradise."
"What did you do to Isidore Williams?" Alexi asks.
"What are you talking about? Did something happen to him?" Blice's anger flares up again. "I swear, if you hurt him, I will kill every single person in this hell of a city."
"He disappeared. Where is he?"
Blice is growing more and more desperate. "How should I know? He left his tracking device behind."
"You killed him, didn't you?"
"What? No!"
"Put him back in the water." Alexi orders.
Blice kicks at them, but he is pushed back under the water again and his screaming isn't helping the situation.
Seth and Damien enter the room and everyone looks up. "Stop."
Blice takes a much needed breath as his head is pulled out of the bucket of water.
He coughs and spits out water as the Rubble Rebels drop him to the slick floor.
"Let him go." Damien says. "I hate him with a passion, but I won't let another man be killed for a crime he didn't commit. He will face justice for his other crimes in time, but he didn't send those spies." Damien tosses a small book on the table. "Common Ground did."
Alexi picks up the black book and flips through it. "What are you saying?"
"Those were Common Ground spies. We are on the precipice of war."
"Why Common Ground? Why now? They have been pacifists for so long."
"Who knows? I'm working on W.A.N.D. and soon we won't have to worry about being destroyed." He looks at Blice. "Dear God, man. You look so pathetic there on your knees. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Someone help him up and clean him off."
Alexi motions for the rebels who help Blice to his feet and dry him off with towels.
Blice is finally able to stand on his own and he tastes blood.
"Come on, Blice. Let's go get you cleaned up and changed. Though, it is quite entertaining to see you like this."
"I'm going to stay here and go over the plans with Alexi." Seth says as he goes to a computer. "I'll catch up with you later, partner."
Blice follows Damien outside and aims to avoid any eye contact with him. He knows what is coming and he's not looking forward to it.
Damien grins and slaps Blice on the back. "What's wrong, McSage? Not used to being the one subjected to torture? The Inquisition deals out enough of it on their own."
"I thought the Rubble Rebels were above that."
"Not when their most hated enemy is caught inside their city. So how did it feel?"
Blice glares at him. "How do you think it felt, you sick bastard?"
Damien laughs. "Serves you right. You deserve so much more than that. If I could see you writhing in agony for all of eternity, it would be the best eternity ever."
"Why do you hate me so much, Montgomery?"
"Let me count the reasons. Oh wait, I won't live that long."
"Please tell me what I did to you." Blice says. "Well, besides stabbing you in the back. I'll admit to that one."
"Isidore."
"What about him?" Blice asks. "You're the one who beat him and let him take close to two hundred bullets for a crime he didn't do. You stood there and let him be gunned down by a firing squad. You could have said something, but you didn't care enough. So don't you dare try to blame me for hurting him."
"Well, welcome to the wasteland, buddy. Everyone is blamed for things they didn't do. How does it feel to be a wastelander like the rest of us, pretty boy?"
Blice wipes the blood from his mouth. "My life hasn't been all luxury and happiness like you seem to believe. Just because I'm from Paradise doesn't mean that my life hasn't been hell."
"You made Isidore's life hell."
"You don't know anything about me and Isidore."
"Last night when he was asleep, I hacked into Isidore's memories." Damien says.
Blice doesn't say a word. What can he say? The truth was bound to come out sooner or later. He focuses on the dust blowing around his feet as he walks down the roughly paved streets.
"What kind of heartless demon are you?" Damien asks.
"You don't know anything, Montgomery."
"I know everything. No wonder he ran away. How could you do something like that to him?"
"Don't pretend that you're his friend." Blice says, growing both defensive and angry at the same time. "You hurt him and left bruises on him."
Damien grabs Blice's shoulders and glares at him. "I didn't chain him to the bed then rape him with a loaded gun. A loaded gun. What the hell? One mistake and he would have been dead. Not to mention the pain he must have been in."
"Shut up." Blice says and pulls away from him.
"No. You have to explain yourself."
"I don't answer to you."
"Take responsibility and acknowledge you did this."
Blice's arms tense as he clenches his fists and focuses all of his will to not hit Damien. "Never."
"What's wrong, Blice? Couldn't get another man into bed?"
"It was never sexual." Blice whispers furiously. "Do you understand? It wasn't about gratification on my part. No. It was about dominance and establishing my power when he challenged me. He had to submit and that was the quickest and most effective way to break him. I never found any satisfaction in that. It wasn't my idea in the first place. It was my father's. Now he's using it against me. He's trying to make me out to be a rapist."
"You are a rapist."
"Hold your tongue, Damien. I am not a rapist."
"If you rape people, you are a rapist." Damien says.
"He's a computer android. It doesn't count."
"Did you really just say that? You, of all people. I thought you cared about him."
Blice sighs and looks up to the sky where some dark clouds have been building on the horizon. "I do care about him, but I will not be labeled as something so awful as that. You can talk to all the women I've been with. Never have I forced them to do anything they didn't want to do. Hell, I've had to push them off of me sometimes."
"How long are you going to deny your guilt?" Damien asks.
"Until I'm innocent."
"It doesn't work that way. Justice doesn't work that way, McSage."
"Justice?" Blice scoffs. "Justice died before the war. When those bombs fell, justice had been dead for hundreds of years. Even when this was America, justice didn't exist. Justice is a moral and religious construct that humanity clings to when they need something to give them hope. It's all false hope. When a little boy is abused by his father and no one steps forward to help him because they believe that because the family has money and power that nothing bad happens behind palace doors, when that boy is injected with all manner of drugs by his father and develops an addiction at age eight, when that same little boy is forced to watch his mother be abused by his father then sent out into the wasteland on and off for months, when that boy is used in countless experiments and locked in the house and has no friends because the children say his purple eyes make him evil, justice is dead."
"Your past doesn't excuse your actions. Just because you were abused doesn't mean you get the right to do that to others."
"Don't you think I see that? I know I did wrong, but I will never admit that it was my fault." Blice says as he pushes past Damien and walks past the city gates and into the desert.
19
Clara is playing her piano when her phone rings. She reaches over and picks up her cell phone. "Hello, this is Inquisitor Lifestone."
The familiar and unique voice she knows all too well comes over the speaker. "Clara, this is Blice McSage."
"Oh, Master Director. What do you need?"
"Um . . . it's just Blice now. I was overthrown. They exiled me."
What is this about? "Exiled? When did this happen?"
"You don't know?" Blice asks. "Two days ago. They stormed my house and chased me out of Paradise."
Oh no. If Blice was chased out of Paradise, then what happened to Isidore? "Where's Isidore. Tell me he's safe."
He sounds concerned. "Well, that's what I was calling about. I was hoping you had seen him."
Not this. Anything but this. "No. Oh no. Is he missing?"
"He stole my Jeep and ran off last night."
"What about his tracking device?" Clara asks.
"He left his watch here."
"You didn't put in an internal one like I told you to?"
"Clara, you know I'm not very intelligent sometimes."
She starts to worry. "What can I do?"
"You need to lie low and don't talk to anyone else at that outpost."
"There's no one here. No one has been back since they headed off to Paradise a week ago."
"How did you not know about all of this?" Blice asks.
"My communications have been down since I got back."
"So you're not trying to kill me t
oo?"
Never. "Of course not. Why would I want to?"
"They could be coming after you if it is known that you are one of my supporters." Blice warns. "The red sector is insane and they're out for my blood. Black sector is falling apart and there's nothing I can do from out here in the wasteland to change anything. I have no idea who is working on what or if the inquisitors who have been my allies before are even still alive."
Clara goes to the window and pulls the curtains closed. "I'm scared."
"Don't be scared. You know how I feel about you. I didn't let them hurt you in Styx and I won't let them hurt you now. You mean so much to me, Clara."
She locks the door. "You're a hundred miles away."
"Even from a hundred miles away, I will protect the people I love."
"Blice, don't say that."
"It's true." Blice says. "I love you, Clara. I should have told you back when we were working together on the Styx mission."
Clara leans against the door and tries to not think about what they had. "Please don't bring this up again. It was one night and you know I've been hurt before."
"I know. But I'm not like those other men."
"Blice, stop. There's someone else."
Blice sounds hurt. "Oh. Forgive me, then. Who is it?"
"I'd rather not say."
"Is he an inquisitor?"
"At this point, I guess he was an inquisitor." Clara says as she turns off the lights and stares out into the soft darkness.
"Please tell me. I won't hunt him down or anything. I'm powerless now and don't even have a car."
"Let's get through one crisis at a time, okay?"
"I guess I missed my chance, huh?" Blice asks.
"By about six months."
"You were stationed out in the wasteland at that time. You met him out there? Thought you swore off dating inquisitors."
"This one is unlike any man I've ever met. Please drop it, Blice."
"Fine. This isn't over, though. I want his name. That way if he hurts you, I will give him a long and painful death."
Paradise of Lead Trilogy Page 41