by Raylan Kane
Then there are the particularly cruel Magistrates who have the power to decide the fate of a convicted criminal. For most capital offenses prisoners are killed immediately after sentencing. Some are given long prison sentences, others are sent to perform centuries of hard labor. Then there are the “lucky” few who wind up in front of misses and misters who want to see people suffer for the crimes they’re alleged to have committed. Furion City, apparently, is home to a Magistrate who fits this last description well.
Cell mate strapped to his bed or not, I am finding sleep hard to come by. I keep thinking of Mother and Father – the disappointment they must be feeling; their only son, locked up for all eternity, or worse. I think of Milne – this miss I hardly know and yet feel as if I’ve known since before time. She and my friend Trident will begin the first stage of the Grim in mere hours. I have no idea what the first stage entails – I just hope Trident can overcome his fear, and that the both of them stay safe. I cannot help but picture them both smiling and crossing the finish line – safe, and near the front. The thought makes me smile.
My mind snaps back into focus with the sounds of footsteps marching in quick succession. The steps grow closer to my cell. What now? Two guards appear on the other side of the bars. My cell mate snorts as he wakes.
“What the bloody -? What’s happening?”
“Bramen Hold.” A deep baritone voice cuts through the prison’s silence.
“Yes?”
“Come with us. You’re to see the Magistrate right away.”
“Now? What time is it?”
“It’s 3AM.”
I roll from the bottom bunk and approach the door. The guards cuff my hands through an opening in the bars. They lead me out past a bank of cells and down many flights of stairs to a carpeted area that leads to a small courtroom deep within the bowels of the detention center. The guards force me into an orange plastic chair that sits before a broad wooden table. A high desk sits in front of me with the Region Thiel crest – a giant cresting wave towering over a mountain – carved from wood hanging on the desk’s front.
A fat man wearing a red tunic enters through a door behind the desk. A guard kicks my chair.
“Up, prisoner.”
I stand as the fat Magistrate adjusts his glasses and sits. “You may sit, prisoner,” the Magistrate said.
The Magistrate presses a white cloth into his forehead to remove beads of sweat. The room is unreasonably humid and the stench of burned clone meat pervades.
“Mr. Hold – Bramen Hold – is that right?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“You are free to go.” The man slams his gavel and stands. A guard behind me puts his hand on my shoulder to lead me out.
“Wait – what? That’s it? What happened?”
The Magistrate turns and looks at me as I struggle with the guard to stay in the room as the man speaks.
“Well, if you must know,” the fat man said; “the High Command men who accused you – they’re dead.”
“Dead? And I am not charged with their murder?”
“No. Would you like to be?”
“No.”
“It seems they have been murdered, not by you of course, you’ve been here. Regardless, the matter is being investigated. This is all extraneous information where you’re concerned; as far as the Region Thiel is concerned you’re a free man. The guards will show you the way out.”
I am led to a non-descript door at the end of a narrow corridor.
“Remove your jumpsuit. Here are your clothes.”
One of the guards, a burly miss shoves my folded clothes into my arms.
“Right here? You just want me to drop my clothes to the floor here in front of you?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve seen more than my share of good bits in here.”
I change to my fitness wear; the guards open the door to reveal a patch of pavement next to the main road.
“Recruit barracks are that way,” said one of the guards pointing off to the right.
“Wait – you’re not going to take me there?”
“This is a detention center – you’re on your own for transportation.”
“I have a major test this morning I need to be there for it.”
“Yes, the Grim, right?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“Heard of it? What region do you think you’re in? Every year we make the High Council’s news feed as dozens more of your kind wind up in pieces floating like chum on our shores.”
“You need to understand – I have to be there for the start of this thing – my life depends on it.”
“Off you go then. The barracks is only 9 miles from here.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
My vision blurs as I look up and see curious faces hovering over me.
“How is this possible?” One of the recruits said.
My head feels heavy. I do not want to leave this bed. I sit up and look at the time – 6:22AM.
“Tell me this isn’t a dream,” Trident said. He speeds over and wraps his arms around me. “How did this happen?”
“They had the wrong guy,” I said.
“Are you ready for what’s about to transpire?”
“No. Are you?”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t even know what the challenge for today is. I’m exhausted – please tell me it isn’t the cliffs.”
“I assume the cliffs are the last challenge,” Trident said.
My limbs feel as though they’re attached to bags of bricks. I stand up and head for the shower; maybe that will make me feel a little more human.
“Are you coming with me to the mess after I shower?” I said to Trident.
“Bramen! I don’t believe it!” Milne runs toward me. She squeals at the sight of me and jumps into my arms. The public display draws attention from all of the recruits around. “How did you get out?”
“The Magistrate – he let me go – said I was free.”
Milne hugs me again and kisses me behind the ear. Rygart walks toward me from further down the barracks.
“Those fools let you out? After what you did?” He stands over me.
“I did nothing but defend her,” I said pointing to Milne.
“By putting yet more good men in the wellness center? You’re nothing but a thug.”
“Rygart, nobody asked you. Go away,” Milne said.
“I don’t believe this. Milne, you cannot be anywhere near this man. He is a danger to everyone around him.”
“He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.”
“You cannot be serious,” Rygart said.
“I am.”
“That’s your cue to leave,” I said, glaring into the big man’s eyes.
Rygart’s chest heaves, his face grows red; he throws a fist at my head. I step to the side and his arm swings past. I move behind him and hook his arm behind his back and pull up on it hard. He wails with pain – I kick the back of his leg and he falls forward. I straddle his back and continue driving his forearm upward toward his shoulder blades.
“Okay enough!” Rygart said with a yell.
“You can stop, Bramen. You’re going to break his arm,” Trident said.
“Are you going to bother me – bother us anymore?” I said.
Rygart bellows; sweat soaks through his shirt. “No.”
“I cannot hear you. Say it louder.”
“No I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Louder!”
“I said I won’t bother you two anymore!”
I drive his arm further with my knee. His arm is right on the edge of popping.
“Enough, Bramen!” Trident said. “They’ll lock you up again!”
“Break it, Bramen! Break it!” Milne said – her eyes wide.
I jump to my feet releasing Rygart’s arm. Rygart rolls on his back and pauses for a moment to collect his breath before he
stands. His friends stand behind him as part of the large circle of recruits that had formed around us.
“Where were you guys?” Rygart says, yelling at his friends. “He’s got me on the ground and you do nothing, you cowards?”
Rygart walks toward the front door with his friends in tow when Jye Low Command leadership steps inside.
“Recruits. Listen up! It’s almost 7AM. We load the buses in 10 minutes. We expect every recruit in this room to be formed up and ready to depart in that time. Failure to do so will see you kicked out of the evaluation and you will be thrown out of the Low Command. We could even cite you for treason if we so chose. See you in ten!”
“So much for my shower or my meal,” I said.
“You have to hand it to Jye’s leadership,” Trident said. “In those moments where I start to feel down, they always know how to brighten my day.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
All recruits from all regions stand in formation in the courtyard. A parade of buses from each region rumbles onto the courtyard and parks in front of us. We stand in the same formation we had when we’d first arrived.
“Nice to see you again,” Ri said.
“Likewise – I’ve seen you in the Mess a few times.”
“Oh yes, I suppose that’s true.”
“Looking forward to today’s event?” Byers said, turning to look at me.
“No.”
He chuckles. “I do a decent job of hiding it, but I’m actually really afraid,” he said.
“I think we all are,” Warell said as he joins our conversation.
“Bramen, you look tired,” Ri said.
“Yes – I didn’t have much sleep – less than an hour.”
“On the night before the first stage of the Grim? You madman.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t by choice.”
“What do you think they’ll have us do today?” Byers said.
“I overheard some talk in the mess this morning. If the rumors are true you’re better off not knowing,” Warell said.
“Now you have to tell us,” Byers said.
“If I tell you, you’ll fight not to get on that bus.”
“And yet here you are about to board yourself,” Ri said.
“Yes, well, I am still holding out hope that what I heard was a fairy tale.”
“Everyone’s going to be fine,” I said. “Whatever it is they’ll have us do, we’ll get through it, no trouble.”
“I wish I could live in your world,” Ri said.
“Alright recruits,” one of the misters in leadership said, “on the buses, let’s go!”
We descend into Furion City; the citizens line the streets waving at our buses as we go. It hurts to think that some of these misses and misters on these buses are smiling, waving, and chatting with their seat mates for the last time in their lives. I am full of nervous energy as the bus comes out the other end of Furion and we drive along the coast. I keep the butterflies in my stomach calm by breathing deep and bringing my thoughts under control. The recruits around me laugh and joke and talk in loud voices trying to deny the daunting task that lays ahead. I watch the waves roll in to my right. We drive past the beach where Milne and I had our moment and around a bend until at last an even larger beach comes into view. The enormous stretch of sand glows under the hot sun that’s managed to burn off the early cloud cover. Our bus parks perpendicular to the beach; we step off and are led down to the sand where every recruit is handed swimwear.
“Misses and misters,” bellowed one of the High Command leaders into a microphone set up on the far end of the beach under a black tent. “Today you embark on a mighty challenge. The evaluation you will undergo over the next five days will test you to your very core.” A breeze rolls off the water providing welcome relief from the heat radiating up from the sand. The speaker continues; “today we will be testing your ability to remain calm under extreme duress. We want to challenge your ability to control your mind and your body. To lead yourself out of a potentially deadly situation with almost nothing but your wits and at the farthest edge of your physical capability. We take the results of each stage of this evaluation very seriously. As you may know, we at the High Command in conjunction with the High Council are currently recruiting for a special project with the highest level of secrecy and importance not only for our planet, but also for our human species at large. Today is your first opportunity to prove to us that you are worthy of our special project – that you have what it takes to be one of the few Sydinians who will have a chance to do something no one in human history has done before. Do not waste this chance you have been given. Stand by,” the man steps away from the mic as an advisor appears to tell him something pertinent – he then walks from the mic out of view. His words have all of the recruits up and down the beach buzzing.
“Well, that was dramatic,” Ri said.
“Anyone heard any rumors about this special project he talked about?” Byers said.
“They say that every year, pretty sure,” Warell said.
“What do you think we’re going to be doing today – based on what he just said?” I said, looking at Warell.
“What I heard this morning was proven wrong as soon as the buses turned south out of the courtyard – I have no idea what we’re doing today,” Warell said.
The Jye leaders walk around tossing plastic packages to each recruit. I receive mine and it looks to be a pair of swim trunks with something hard folded in the middle of them, out of sight.
“Looks like we’ll be swimming,” Ri said.
The man under the tent walks back to the microphone.
“By now you all should have your packages. Do not open them yet. I repeat, do not open your package until I give the word. Now I will explain to you today’s evaluation. Please turn your attention to the water – look to the horizon, you can see the silhouette of a ship there – the Synark. When I sound the horn you will open your package; inside you will find swimming trunks or a swimsuit for the misses – each of those swim suits has a tracker and timer embedded within its lining. You will also find a small hunting knife – please hang on to this, as you will need it to complete today’s evaluation. Once you have changed into your swim wear right here on the beach you will run to the water and swim to that ship – you may not be able to see it from here but it flies a red flag from the roof of the bridge. Please note that your swim is not timed – but we have you swim out there for a specific purpose –“
“To test our endurance,” I said to the group around me.
“To test your physical endurance,” the man said, “something we feel is very important, as should you. Now, once you reach the ship, listen carefully, you will each be placed inside a sleeve made from thick plastic – the sleeve will be filled with air and sealed with you inside. From there you will be hoisted by a crane into a vat of chum where the exterior of your sleeve will be soaked in fish guts. As some of you may know – those of you from this area – we are currently in the middle of feeding season for the blood eel. At this time of year the blood eel feeds relatively close to the Thiel shore. Once your sleeve is properly coated with chum you will be lowered into the water and you will wait to be swallowed by a blood eel.”
Hundreds of recruits gasp at the statement. I cannot believe my ears. My stomach begins churning. Far down the beach recruits wearing different color uniforms run for the road, security forces give chase.
The man under the tent points down the beach to the recruits running away. “That’s okay, stop, let them go. And let me say, if anyone here doesn’t want to do this – doesn’t think they have what it takes – then go. But if you go right now, as some among us are doing right now, you will be treated as a deserter and charged with treason which is punishable by death – that is if security forces don’t see fit to shoot you on the spot.” Shots echo from up the beach where a recruit tries to flee. The crowd gasps again.
“You see? That’s exactly what I am talking a
bout. You can leave if you like, but I promise you, you will be found. Now, where were we? Right, yes, now here is the important part – once you are swallowed by the blood eel, you will have already used up some of the air within your sleeve. We have started timing you from the time we drop you in the water – your challenge is to stay under inside their belly for as long as you can. The times will be posted, and the longest surviving recruit who makes it back to the surface is given first place and so on down the list. Conserving your air is critical in this stage of the evaluation. You must make the most of what limited air you have. And once you feel you are running out you must use the knife to make your escape lest you become just another meal for the giant blood eel. Use the knife to puncture the sleeve, and then to cut your way out of the eel’s gut and swim to the surface. Once you surface wait where you are and you will be picked up based on the location of your tracking beacon. Clear? Okay, recruits, good luck today, and stand by for the horn.”
Fear courses through my veins. I look down the beach for Milne and I cannot see her in the mix of the huge crowd of recruits; no sign of Trident either. Ri, Byers, and Warell look as though the blood has drained from their face. No one among us is saying a word. We stand looking at the water, helplessness washes over us like surf passing over rocks. We share nervous glances at one another and clutch our plastic packages, waiting for the horn.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Water is one of my greatest fears. Actually, a giant wave is probably my greatest fear, but swimming this far from shore has me scared to death. Being from a landlocked prairie region I have little swimming ability. I am swimming the backstroke to the ship with the red flag. I stop here and there to track my progress with regard to the shore and to see if I’m going in the right direction toward the ship. The beach is but a thin ribbon that disappears behind the waviness of the ocean’s surface every few seconds. Thinking about the depth of the water below makes me nervous; I’m trying to block out of my brain the other part of this challenge. As I near the enormous metal ship I see other recruits swimming around me; we draw closer together as we approach the side where a ladder descends to the water.