by L. S. Gibson
Then Jon noted the light above the bench was beginning to darken. He felt the fear begin in his stomach, like a lead weight. His heart pounded in his chest; he wondered how much longer he could go on like this. Charod told him he wouldn’t be allowed to die until they’d no further use for him, but he wondered how long his mind could take this punishment. Charod might’ve assessed his body, but could he have assessed his mind?
He could do nothing but wait for the pain to begin, to increase. He tried to prepare himself, but no matter how much he thought he remembered how bad the pain had been, a memory was no substitute for the real thing. The light darkened, a little at a time, as the questions began again, the same ones over and over. He let his thoughts drift back to Triena, his talisman, but as the light grew darker and darker and the pain grew worse and worse, he heard someone screaming nearby, taking time to realize it was him.
Time seemed to stand still, and he felt as if all he could remember was the pain, nothing else was real. He felt there was someone who could help but he couldn’t remember who it could be. When at last the light died back to white he was drenched in perspiration and he was cold deep inside.
His mind tried to slip away, sleep, but he didn’t want that. If he slept he’d have to face the pain sooner. Did that make sense? He no longer knew. He tried to think of good memories, anything other than what was his reality now. Triena! How could he have forgotten her, Triena?
He let his mind run back to the morning they’d watched the dawn rise together, the words they’d exchanged and the kisses they’d shared. It was to be the only time they had, he accepted that, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t regret it. He would’ve had so much to look forward to. His mind drifted, imagining the life they could’ve had together.
“What’s this, he can still smile?”
Jon’s eyes flew open. The warmth of his imagination was drowned in the coldness of Charod’s smile. “Now, what can you have to smile about?”
Jon said nothing, just stared back into Charod’s eyes and saw nothing in them but disdain.
“You’re not still thinking about the possibility of escape, are you? I’ve already told you about Haven, haven’t I? Did I tell you one of our warships is coming here from Midea? I see from your expression I didn’t. So, even if your ship were to arrive, they can't help you because they’ll have their hands full all too soon. So you have nothing to look forward to, do you?” He walked as close as he could get to the light field. “My interrogators tell me you just said one word during the sessions. You said Triena. Why did you say that? Do you know this Triena? I would be pleased to meet her. I wonder how she’d react in my little room.”
Jon felt a pounding in his temples just at the idea of this man and Triena. If he could get his hands on this bastard! He could die happy.
“Come, answer the questions. You’ve suffered enough. You’re in a hopeless situation. No one could blame you now for giving in, for telling me what you know. What do you know about their technology, their power? Where is she, where is Triena? Answer me!”
Charod’s yell made Jon jump because the rest of his questions had been conversational, almost gentle, and shock made him speak. “If all these sessions haven’t made me answer any of your questions, why would you think that just because you yell I’ll answer now? I told you when all this began I wouldn’t answer your questions. I haven’t changed my mind.”
Charod frowned and he stared at Jon for a long moment, then his cold smile flittered over his lips again. “Perhaps you should think it over. You see, if you won’t answer my questions why should I keep you alive? I’ve no use for you unless you have some value. I think you do know something. Therefore, I’ll give you a few hours to reconsider. If you refuse to answer, your next session will be your last. I will order next time the interrogators do not limit the session. You understand what that means?”
Jon just stared at him, and didn’t deign to answer. Charod smirked as he moved to leave, as if somehow he’d won. Perhaps he thought he had. But, in fact, it was Jon who had won. He’d long accepted he couldn’t escape, and there was no chance of rescue and therefore he’d die in this room. Charod had just confirmed his own belief in the hopelessness of his situation. He’d managed to keep his own counsel so far and would continue to do so. He’d kept careful watch and since the first time they didn’t allow the light to go to red, because he lost all awareness once the light reached red. He’d withstood the pain caused when the light was dark orange. That was all he needed to know.
If the next session wasn’t to end, then they would go to red and maybe beyond. He’d die, but he would not talk, and there would be no more pain. He could regret the loss of his life, the loss of a future, the loss of a possible life with Triena, but it was a price he could pay for those he cared about. Once more he smiled. As an afterthought, he hoped Charod was watching from the booth.
Lector led them on a more circuitous route to avoid the main entrance to the cave system. When it was decided to go back inside he told them of another entrance higher up. That would give them more time to decide. In other words, unspoken words, more time for the Mideans to torture Jon again, providing an opportunity to allow them to try and get some indication of where he was being held.
Manny reported to Sullivan what they planned to attempt if Triena had contact with Jon again. During the conversation the captain informed them Henricks was a little ahead of time with her modifications and Barlow’s team would be leaving in about ten minutes. The flight would take around thirty minutes and as soon as they landed they would begin to follow Manny’s party. Triena warned them once they landed it was probable the Mideans would be aware of them and be forewarned. Barlow told her they were prepared for it, after all if someone could produce a mechanism to shield a world, it was to be expected they also had sensor capability.
“We’re almost level with the other cave entrance, you’ll have to decide fast what we should do, carry on to the summit or detour for the—” Lector stopped as Triena dropped to her knees.
Triena knew it was coming because Jon knew it. She felt his fear, his trepidation. The pain was coming. She braced herself to feel him call her name again. Each time now it was like a lance through her heart because there was nothing she could do to help.
Lector and Manny realized what must be happening, and dropped down alongside her. Lector took hold of her shoulders, and when she still didn’t lift her eyes he placed a hand under her chin and raised her face to his.
It was then she remembered, as she felt Lector’s touch. He was going to merge with her. She stared deep into his eyes, as he did into hers. She let him in, allowed him to see how she felt, and then she let him feel what she was receiving from Jon. It wasn't normal to share such a personal contact, so it was difficult to let down those defenses. He showed her he was there to help her and therefore Jon. Her defenses slipped away. Together they felt Jon’s reaction as the pain began; together they felt as he called her name again and again, until the call became a scream. Then it faded back until all he did was react to the pain. The pain died at last, and then all they could feel was his complete sense of loss. Then, like a light in his senses, Triena was there again.
With difficulty Lector twisted aside from the intimacy of the contact and tried to use his special skills to follow the track of the emotions, the basic raw emotions every creature had at its center. It was difficult; with less sentient creatures the emotions were less refined and somehow less encompassing of himself. He kept feeling for and reacting to the deep need of Jon Hardesty, which with, say an Argeela, just didn’t exist. As the pain passed into deep loss, Lector then felt the joy of Jon’s thoughts of Triena overwhelmed by the anger caused by an intrusion. Lector had to push that to one side and try again, just to be pulled back by Jon’s bitterness that he had to overcome to continue his tracking. Then, the strangest of all to Lector, he sensed a deep satisfaction from Jon that somehow Lector could accept with ease, and he continued to track back along the emo
tions until they faded into acceptance.
Then, Jon was gone and the merging was broken. Lector stepped back and he supposed he must be as pale as Triena.
“Are you all right, Mistress?” Lector murmured. He understood perhaps for the first time just how direct such a contact was. He had no personal experience of one, and being so close to another’s was unnerving in itself, when one’s pairing was so distressed it must be heartbreaking. He also understood, as he’d not earlier, even when he accepted Triena and Jon were to pair, just how deep those feelings for each other went. He had, he now admitted to himself, been just a little doubtful of how real Triena’s reactions were to Jon, after all they were not paired yet; but after this experience he was left in no doubt whatsoever.
Triena had a little difficulty in bringing her senses back to the here and now. She found herself so wrapped up in Jon; it was hard to believe he wasn’t there with her. For a brief moment she was back on the mountainside as the dawn rose. Then it was ripped away by something, someone, who was causing Jon such anger and grief she felt her heart would break. But then, all of a sudden, with no warning, she sensed his deep contentment, his complete acceptance and while for a few moments she felt relief, which soon became fear. With a flash of understanding she knew what it was he had accepted.
“No, oh no. We have to hurry. We can’t wait for the others.” She was desperate.
“What is it, what’s happened? We can’t just go and rush off like that,” Manny said, reaching out to pull her down again as she began to rise.
She took a deep calming breath. “Lector, did you get anything, a direction, anything?”
“Yes, I think so. I believe he is on the summit. It wasn’t near enough to be the caves, and I got the sense of being enclosed by walls, like a building not a cave. But please, Triena, keep calm. I understand what it’s like for you, but at least toward the end he seemed much calmer.”
“But don’t you understand?” she cried, raising her voice so Manny had to lift a warning finger. She controlled herself and went on. “Yes, he was calm, too calm; he’s accepted his fate. He’s not broken and knows he never will, and they know that too. Don’t you see, he knows he’s going to die, and soon. He’s come to terms with it and he is content.”
“You’re sure about this?” Manny asked, his expression saying he already knew the answer.
She nodded, gaze full of sadness, and Manny twisted to Lector for confirmation, or rather for a denial he didn’t expect to receive.
Lector stared at Triena, brow creasing as he considered the question. “Yes. I understand. He’s satisfied because he’s succeeded. He’s beaten them. All he waits for now is to die.”
NINE
Seated next to Raul Nunez at the controls of the shuttle, Peter Barlow was keeping a close eye on the sensor console. Also in the shuttle was Robert Simpson together with another engineer, Paul Willett. Their main responsibility was to disable the shield by the production of a series of wakes around the shuttle counteracting the effect of the atmospheric shield. The captain considered sending Sara Henricks, but she was still working to maintain the condition of the ship, and anyway Simpson was determined to go along.
Dr. Helen Mannion was also assigned to the mission as they had no idea what state Jon Hardesty would be in when they rescued him. Last but not least, there was Harji Singh sent by the captain as extra security. He was the best shot on the ship and, as he was often heard to boast, had the eyes of a hawk.
Captain Sullivan gave Peter full discretion in the execution of the mission depending on what he found when they reached the surface and contacted Manny. While interaction with the Rhiava was also of prime importance, the captain’s first concern was the crew from the Questor. Sullivan made that quite clear to Peter. While it appeared the Rhiava were rather friendly, Sullivan still didn’t feel enough was known about them yet—whatever had transpired between them and Manny and Jon.
So far during the transmissions, Manny hadn’t addressed the issue of supplies, which was the reason for the mission in the first place. The captain decided it would be easier for Peter to do that with the Rhiava when they met face to face.
Peter kept scanning ahead for the effect of the wake to ensure a clear passage through to the surface. So far, it was working as planned. Peter took a quick look at the time, another twelve minutes to reach the surface.
Charod watched the prisoner from the booth and was convinced he’d succeeded in frightening him enough to talk during the next session; at least until Charod saw that enigmatic smile. Then he had doubts.
What was it that gave this creature such strength? Others had broken under far less, but this one was the first of his kind to experience the machine. The one way to know if he was different, or if he was typical of his race, was for comparative studies. However, so far the other one had escaped, abandoning the prisoner to his fate, but he couldn’t get off the surface. The patrols would find him and then Charod would have his comparison. The thought revived his good mood.
“Sir,” called Boren from the console to Charod’s left, “a report from Morovny. They’ve tracked another vehicle coming through the shield. It’s a similar configuration to the one that crashed, except this one is larger. However, this one isn’t having much difficulty. It’s maintaining reasonable flight.” He hesitated and listened again. “Also, sir, it could be headed in this direction.”
“Could be?” Charod asked at his most imperious.
Boren contacted Morovny for an update. “It’s too soon to be one hundred percent certain, sir, but Morovny thinks there’s a good chance from its orbital vector that it’ll land in this vicinity. When he has a positive plot, sir, he’ll advise you.”
“Very well,” Charod replied. Interesting. More of your kind, he thought, watching the prisoner. Some sort of rescue attempt perhaps? Well, if it was there was time to prepare. The craft hadn’t even landed yet, though there was the need to know how it was able to even breach the shield. Even if it did land somewhere nearby, its crew would have to climb the mountain. There was plenty of time for one more session, but not yet, in a little while. “Any news yet of when our warship might arrive?”
“They estimate twenty hours, sir.”
Charod nodded. He returned his attention to the prisoner, pleased to see the smile had faded. It was time to let the creature’s mind work for a while. There was nothing as destructive as one’s own psyche. It proved more beneficial to leave a reasonable length of time between each session. In the intervening time the subject would remember suffering under the light, would fear the next session, and that fear would magnify the memory and do much to increase the work of the machine during the next session. A remarkable organ, the brain, thought Charod with a smirk.
Lector scouted ahead as he had when they’d climbed up the opposite face such a short time before. He used his senses to check the summit for the positioning of Midean patrols. The plan was to check out the small buildings near the lake. It seemed logical the large building would be the headquarters of the guard patrols. They’d already seen evidence of Mideans who weren’t guard personnel moving between the smaller buildings, making it most likely Jon was being held in one of those.
Lector signaled the others when it was safe to come forward, and when they were all together again Triena erected her shield. They climbed over the crest and back onto the summit, moving with care toward the small buildings. They’d have to search each until they found Jon, unless Triena could sense him as they got closer, which was possible but would depend on his condition.
They approached the first building, a simple rectangle formed of some kind of light alloy, fashioned from prefabricated sheets with a flat roof. A simple utilitarian design. It had a door in one of the short sides and windows at Midean eye level in the other three sides. Moving forward, Lector used hand signals to indicate there were three occupants.
While Lector and Triena kept low, Manny moved to the window to look inside. As Mideans were a little taller than h
umans he needed to stretch on tiptoe to see the interior. He saw three Mideans with their backs to the window. They were huddled around a large console with obvious intent on whatever they were doing. There was just one large room in the interior of the building, which appeared to be some sort of workplace. Manny backed away and shook his head. On to the next structure.
They investigated two other buildings, one containing five Mideans, some type of relaxation center it seemed. The other was empty, perhaps another workplace. That just left two.
Of the two remaining buildings one was a little larger than the other, and for no other reason than its difference, Manny chose to check that one next. He again peered into a window, though as they got nearer they’d noted this building did have one long wall without a window, a fact that gave Manny hope at last they’d found the correct place. As he stared into the building Manny saw another workplace with a console, with one seated operator, and another standing behind him.
Manny felt a moment’s disappointment, until he noted the differences in the standing man’s uniform compared to the others he’d seen so far. More elaborate. That fact made him look again, and then he realized what he thought had been a large mirror on the wall above the console was a glass wall. However, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t see beyond the glass as there was some kind of bright light reflecting on it.
He backed away, raising a finger to his mouth. Then he made a circle out of his thumb and forefinger, the prearranged signal for success, though he quantified it with another signal. He placed his two hands together and then twisted them left and right, to indicate maybe. They would understand he meant he was pretty sure he’d found the correct place, but had not yet seen Jon. He then raised two fingers to indicate two occupants seen, which didn’t tally with the three persons Lector indicated he’d sensed. It seemed almost certain Jon was the third person in that building.