by Ciara Knight
“She’s fighting the neuro-alterer,” the deity booms from above.
Earth begins to shake beneath me and I know something is coming to rip me away. The pressure intensifies in my head and I cry out. Then it lessens and I watch my home blur and shimmer around me.
“Goodbye.” I know Ryder can’t hear me, but I say it anyway.
“You stupid fool! We need to extract the information immediately. If you fail me again, I’ll have your device tested on you!”
I open my eyes as the heavy device is lifted from my head. Blood trickles down onto the floor. I wince at the thought of what other devices they will come up with next.
The Queen’s narrow eyes try to penetrate mine and yank the information she seeks from my mind. Her hand flies down and connects with my cheek, and my head jerks to the side. I try to block the next blow, but my hands are bound. Another hit, this time to my right eye. My cheek throbs and my eye twitches. “You will tell me what you know.”
“I never lose,” She rasps through an angry snarl. “You, fix your device or I’ll have you banned from upgrades and thrown into the reactor.”
My eye and cheek pulse in unison with my rapid heartbeat. I blink and see the grey coat slither out the door behind the Queen. Her distinctive footsteps echo through the hall before the door slides shut. Leaving me alone, again.
I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. My head, cheek, eye, and leg all ache and I long to go home. Ryder would nurse me back to health, right before he told me to get over myself and get to work cleaning the rooms and bar.
If Ma and Pa were still around, things would be different. I feel the grey cloud bubble, and I remember the first day I discovered my dark power. Now, if I could just remember what it is.
Maybe if I figure out how to make it work despite my prosthetic leg, I’d be able to escape.
The door slides open and I clutch the side of the bed, forcing the dark cloud back down. No, I have to keep my secret buried.
The princess’s tight curls bounce as she enters the room and the door slides shut behind her. “I brought you some water,” she whispers in her soft voice. “Did it hurt too bad?”
Did her mother send her here to try a different approach? She lifts my head and brings the cup to my lips. The sulfur taste of the water soothes my scratchy throat as it slides down.
Princess Semara sets down the cup. “Your wrists…you must have struggled.” She presses a button and the metal cuffs snap open. “Here, let me help you up.”
Thump...tap. Thump…tap. I can’t breathe at the sound. Princess Semara’s pale complexion turns green and she freezes in her spot. The door slides open before she has a chance to react.
“Semara, what are you—” The Queen moves faster than a spiderat after food. The smack propels Princess Semara across the room. “You’re coddling the prisoner. The girl that could possess the power to murder us all! Do you not understand the prophecy? This one child could annihilate the entire population.”
Prophecy?
Princess Semara stumbles back. The Queen slams her metal foot into her daughter’s ribs. Her bones crack and snap before a metal fist smashes against her cheek. Semara’s delicate flesh spreads into a large gash that probably matches my own.
Semara shields herself. She scurries away from her own mother, eyes wide with fear.
Now I know Princess Semara is not part of the Queen’s plan. Or is it all a trap?
“I only wanted to make sure she didn’t die.”
Her mother’s golden knuckles, tarnished with red smudges, halts in midair. I know she contemplates Semara’s explanation.
So do I.
The Queen lowers her hand to her side, still clenching tight. “Speak.”
“If she dies, we’ll learn nothing.”
The grey coat enters the room, scanning each of us with his clicking eye. His alteration appears clunky compared to the Queen’s sleek one.
“That neuro-alterer could cause brain damage, which will leave us with nothing.” Semara pushes up onto her knees but doesn’t try to stand. She wipes crimson smears with her white gloves.
The smell of blood and oil overpowers me and my stomach begins to protest again. I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves.
“If we fry her brain, we’ll never know if we’ve terminated the threat.” Semara speaks with the tone of a daughter of the Queen. “He should be punished for such incompetent actions.”
The grey coat swivels on his heels. “You—”
The Queen whirls on the grey coat. “How dare you address the Princess in such a fashion.”
He reels back, the dark lens in the center of his eye so wide I can see the Queen’s reflection. Her painted-on eyebrows arch high. “Is this true? What my daughter says. Could you have killed the one person who could end the threat to your Queen?”
“I…no. Well, of course, but there is a risk with any transplant or device.”
“Did you consider the risks before proceeding?” the Queen spat.
“Yes, of course. I mean, the neuro-alterer is untested, but should be stable. Although the Princess is wise like her mother, I must insist that theoretically, this device is safe.”
“Theoretically? Well, then you are theoretically safe for now.” The Queen pauses for a moment.
I hold my breath, praying the torture will stop.
“If something happens to this parasite before I learn what I need to know, there will be no more theorizing. You will be executed.”
“Yes, my Queen.” The grey coat bows. I’m low enough to see the hatred etched on his face. If the Queen saw his crinkled nose and snarl, he’d be put to death immediately.
“Then proceed with the interrogation.”
CHAPTER THREE
Subject: Raeth Arteres
Date: March 11, 2185
Species: Neumarian
Status: Undetermined
Condition: Leg infection
Treatment: Denied
The world is a swirl of brown, silver, and white. I reach up and run my hand down something smooth. My vision slides into focus and I see that it is the Princess’s cheek. Why doesn’t she slap my hand away? No purple and black bruises show under her eyes, nor is there a bandage covering her cheek. “W-what happened? You have no b-bruises.”
“An advantage of being a princess. My mother doesn’t want anyone to see a flaw on me. They healed my face and bones in the infirmary last night.” The princess’s lips curl into a pretty smile and her eyebrows rise in unison. “Wait—that’s it. I can sneak some supplies from the medic’s office. I can treat your infection.”
“N-no. I’d rather die.”
“Don’t say that.”
The stench of my leg fills the room with a mixture of bitter alcohol, oil, and rotted vegetables. I know it’s bad. A Neumarian is not meant to be made of metal.
Princess Semara presses a cool rag to my forehead. “You are the first person I’ve been able to talk to since my father died and my mother brought me to the ship. Raeth, you must confess. You’ll get treatment.”
“I’ll d-die anyway.”
She doesn’t react, but I see in her hollow eyes that she knows I speak the truth. I may only be twelve, but I lived through the war. Queen Mandessa Valderak does not show mercy.
“It’s better this w-way.” I take a deep breath and try to allow the words to flow. “I’ll be at p-peace with my Ma and P-pa.”
“What about your brother?”
“He’s d-dead. I heard you t-talking.”
“No. I just said that to protect you.”
My heart flutters at the news. It fuels my desire—if he lives, all the more reason for me to protect my gift. “He w-wouldn’t want me to betray m-my people.” I choke on the words because I know what I must do. “Semara, I-I have to d-die. I c-can’t hold on any longer. If I c-crack they could use me as an excuse to execute all m-my people.”
My muscles contract in my core and I fight against my gift. It wants to surface and free me
from this prison, but the metal traps it inside. Good. The monstrous contraption attached to my body will keep me from betraying my people.
Part of me barely remembers my home and friends. Ryder’s face is blurred in my memory. The neuro-alterer has changed how I perceive him. Now I’m not sure which image is real.
I close my eyes and fight the tears as my finger traces the hard edge of my new leg. The soft pus-filled vessels ache as my hand brushes them. This is no way to live.
“Please, Raeth, don’t give up.”
The clock ticks away and I know the time for my next interrogation grows near. If it is severe enough, it could be my last. That comforts me. An end to the turmoil and the images in my mind left from the first session.
“Your parents—tell me about them. What were they like?”
“Ma was b-beautiful. Pa said her full l-lips and soft b-blue eyes could melt a man’s heart.” Flashes of a past life filter in through the static in my brain. A gentle touch, caring words, a loving smile all make my heart long to be home in their arms. “Semara, can you b-bring me something?”
“What? Anything.”
“Can you b-bring something to end my s-suffering?”
“No, don’t say that.” Semara pulls away and rubs her forehead. “I’m going to find a way out for you.”
“There’s only one way. M-my d-death.”
“That’s it.” Semara’s face lights up, her white, perfect teeth shining brightly. “You have to die.”
I want to be happy that she finally accepts my fate, but still, it’s difficult to face. “You’ll help m-me, then?”
“Yes, but not the way you expect.”
“W-what do you mean?”
Thump…tap. Thump…tap.
“Quick, listen to me. Your parents are dead. Remember that. It will buy us time. If there is one thing my father taught me, it’s that you need to take time to make a plan work.”
Thump…tap. Thump…tap.
The door slides open. Semara stands erect at my feet and faces her mother.
The Queen charges at her. “You are a disappointment. A disgrace.” Mechanical knuckles click with the tightening of the Queen’s fist. I know what is coming.
My stomach twists and something inside me won’t let it happen. I scoot to the bottom of the bed, stifling a cry from the fire erupting from my thigh all the way to my chest.
The smack sends Semara flying across the room and the Queen stands with her back to me, watching her only daughter slam against the cell wall. I lift my good leg and plunge my heel into her back. The Queen staggers forward, then swings around on me. Her eyes widen for a second in surprise, then the expression morphs into hatred.
“G-give up. I’ll n-n-never b-break, Slag.”
“You’ll n-n-never break? Listen to the parasite, Semara. This is what you nurse. A pathetic little nothing.” The Queen rounds the table and stands over me.
I know the beating is coming. I swish around what little moisture I can manage in my mouth, and spit at her. “G-go ahead.”
No fist swings. Instead, she wipes a string of saliva from her eye and looks down at me. Her nose flares and crinkles.
“You smell that, little parasite? It’s your festering wound.” The Queen’s metal hand lifts my old tattered dress and presses into one of the larger swollen mounds.
I clutch the edge of the bed and stifle a cry, not wanting to give her the pleasure. Heat pulses in my belly and pushes down my arms and legs. My gift is going to take over. I need to die quickly. I scratch at her left arm and lift my other leg to kick her, but she digs the tip of her prosthetic finger deeper. I feel a warm liquid run down my leg.
“I’ll n-never t-talk.” I manage through my teeth. She squeezes tighter and a scream escapes my lips.
“Her parents, Mother. That is how you get to her.”
The Queen’s hand releases me, and the swirling in my head subsides. My heart twists that the Princess speaks of my parents to the Queen.
“What do you mean?” Flaming red hair taunts me. I want to rip it from her head. The fever has drenched me in sweat and my vision keeps her blurry. Good. I don’t have to see the metal twisted around her body like a monster.
“We use her parents to find out the information through the neuro-alterer.”
“The interrogator stated her curse interfered with the device. He must modify it so that her heightened senses don’t disrupt the altered images in her brain,” the Queen argues.
“If he can create altered images, then he can make her believe it’s her parents.” Semara straightens to her full five feet two inches and looks into her mother’s eyes, almost a foot above her. “And if he doesn’t produce results, then he must be executed.”
The Queen erupts in menacing laughter that makes my skin crawl. “Maybe there is hope of driving your father’s foolish notions from your head yet, and make you a true ruler.”
“Yes, Mother. I believe you shall.”
“Good, good. Tell the interrogator that I want the neuro-alterer ready by morning. We will begin testing immediately.” The Queen spins on her heels, metal scraping against metal in an ear-splitting, high-pitched tone.
“Mother, I’d like to watch the interrogation. I believe there is much for me to learn about how to treat a Neumar…parasite.”
My insides twist. Did she pretend to be my friend just to find out what would hurt me the most?
“That’s my daughter.” The Queen smiles back as she marches from the cell door. “Well, aren’t you coming? The General says you haven’t been by to see him. It will only be a few more years until you are married, you know.”
Semara’s face turns green again and her fists clench by her sides. Whoever this general is, she doesn’t want to marry him.
“I’m going to see the interrogator. I want to make sure he doesn’t stall for more time.”
“Be quick, the General waits.”
I want to warn Semara she plays with fire, but she must leave with her mother and go see the General. The look on her face tells me he treats her no better than her mother does.
But why do I care?
CHAPTER FOUR
Subject: Raeth Arteres
Date: March 12, 2185
Species: Neumarian
Condition: Deteriorating
Treatment: Denied
Status: Mental interrogation
Method: Neuro-alterer II
“This will hurt.” The grey coat laughs and places the metal contraption on my head. It teeters and almost falls.
I roll my lower lip under my teeth and watch the clock hand slide another minute. Where is Semara? I have to stall, or whatever hope I have of dying before they extract information will be gone. I wipe the sweat from my brow and wonder if the infection will take me first.
I hear the screws rotating and I know they are about to plunge into my skull. My eyes dart about and I sway back and forth on the bed.
“Guard!” I hear feet scamper into the room, but I close my eyes tight. “Hold her down or I’ll never get the probes in the right place.”
Strong, hairy hands press my shoulders down against the hard bed. My neck rests on a board. Is this how my parents felt before they were decapitated?
“W-where is the Princess?” I realize my mistake. Words spin through my head, but I can’t find one that will undo my grave error.
“You think her to be your friend, huh? I guess you truly are just a simplistic parasite.”
Hot breath blankets my skin. I hear the grey coat’s eye click away, but I don’t want to see his blurry Slag features up close, so I squeeze my lids tighter.
“She used you for information. A mere interrogation tactic. Do you really believe the princess would stoop to the level of a slave?” His deep, froglike laughter echoes in my head.
My stomach knots. He could speak the truth. Princess Semara tricked me. That’s why she isn’t here.
His foul breath drifts away from my face and I look toward the door and up at the clock
. Please, don’t let it be true. I want to trust Semara, but maybe I’m just being the silly child my brother tells me I am. Always too trusting of others.
The minute hand stutters and rests on the eleven. Only five minutes left. I try to focus on what is real. I have no family left. All are dead. I must not betray my people. None of this is real. These are the things I must hold on to or the Queen will enslave Neumarians forever.
“Any last words?”
“What? It’s not t-time. W-we still h-have—”
“Oh no, I want to know if this will work before the Queen arrives. If you die on the table when I initiate the device, I can say you were already dead when I arrived.” The grey coat’s mouth curls up at the edges and his scarred bottom lip rolls under his yellowed top teeth. For a Slag, he doesn’t seem to have the newest upgrades. Well, besides his eye. He probably lost that during the war.
I have no family left. All are dead. I must not betray my people. None of this is real.
I want to fight, to scratch his one eye out and kick him where it hurts, but I have no energy left. Not even adrenaline can move me to fight now. I run my thumb over the upper edge of my leg. It won’t be much longer before the infection spreads to my blood and internal organs. I’ve seen many die of infection in the back room of my uncle’s saloon. It will not be a pleasant death, but at least it will bring an end to my imprisonment. I’ll be free.
The screws sound off again around my head. This time they succeed in running through my skin.
I scream with each turn.
“What’s going on?” The screws stop and I can hear Semara’s soft voice.
The grey coat halts. “You have no need to be here. Leave and return with your mother.”
“The General is on his way here. I’ve called him in to consult on the interrogation.”
“You don’t have the authority to—”
“Take it up with my mother.” Semara speaks with the air of royalty.
The screws moan and unthread from my skull. The heavy device lifts, pulling strands of my hair with it. The grey coat pads out of the cell looking deflated.