Cutlass Sharpened

by H. Lee Morgan, Jr

  “Won’t they listen to us?”

  Renee shook her head. “They think they have all the proof they need and gloated showing me why our case is already closed as a judge…”

  “What proof?” he asked with another shake.

  “Galicom records every place of business, especially their headquarters. When I slammed my fist on that cunt’s desk, the bomb detonated. They think the supposed trigger I used degraded and left no residue… and now we are stuck in here awaiting for our new lovely accommodations.” Renee rolled her eyes. “And that isn’t even the worst part.”

  “And what could possibly be worse than false imprisonment?”

  It made sense why she also cried for more than her own safety. “These collars negate psionic abilities… including letting me talk with Sparky. I can barely feel him now and he’s pissed. With this thing on my neck he can’t find me with his mind… and when we reach New Wrangler I doubt I’ll even have that much feeling. Worse still, our com’s won’t work in here or prison… No, Oliver! Don’t do that!” he stopped trying to tear himself out without luck. “Have you no idea what these collars can do?”

  Rational thought took over and he breathed deep and calming. “I did forget for a moment. Too much struggle will put you to sleep. Any unauthorized tampering though will set off explosive to decapitate us.”

  “Our hands are tied, literally.” Her head clanged against the metal headboard of the prison shuttles.

  “What a way to fuck up our first full day as a couple. Framed for a bombing we didn’t commit.”

  “Where’s Deegen and Bell?” He asked, looking around to find themselves alone. It was impossible to see out the walls and with dampeners you couldn’t feel any direction.

  “I don’t know.” She practically growled. “Last I saw was him and Bell talking as we got off the elevator. They may have been too preoccupied to get off. The elevators were large and crowded.”

  “Did you tell them I’m an elder?”

  “I was gagged during the fastest trial I know of and proven guilty to get a word in. And we’re stuck for training for the next six weeks… I’m so not looking forward to the hallucinogenic drugs they’ll be giving nor the whippings to make any assaults make you mentally shut down till you are a quivering puddle of drool.”

  “If we get back can you create a counteragent for…?”

  “Not a chance. Doing so will fry every brain cell in our heads, making us wish these collars went off. We’ll be stuck that way forever till someone grants mercy and ends our suffering. Papa is going to be pissed.”

  “I’d get you out of here if I could.”

  Renee’s head dropped in defeat. “I know you would. It’s the only thing keeping me from having a mental breakdown… which will make their methods more demanding and longer. Healthy minds are easier to mold… less chaos.”

  They lapsed into silence for what seemed years, but eventually there was the faintest of shakes that told the vessel landed. But then suddenly a sensory deprivation helmet dropped from above and stole Oliver’s sight and hearing. It was terrifying and only got more so as rough hands grabbed his still bound arms and forced him along. Giving painful shocks of encouragement to keep on moving forward. The only thing he could detect was the faintest smell of methane and sulfur. Having learned it on Zerika and Renee’s confirmation to associate smell with word. He felt strong winds and worried for Renee as her scent was gone from him.

  An eternity of darkness and walking lasted over three hundred steps and soon the wind was gone, replace by faintly sweaty, salty scents. But among the increasing smells dominated fear and pain.

  Pushed and shoved disorientated Oliver, but then all of a sudden everything stopped. Restraints dropped and the collar unlocked.

  Gradually he lifted he helmet to find himself in an empty concrete room barely large enough for outstretched arms to reach. On the far wall was a dull sign that read ‘Change into prisoner uniforms. Discard all personal items. They will be stored till you are released. Then proceed to scanner.’

  Oliver knew there was no recording in the changing room, but the next would scan for all prohibited things. The thing is, he couldn’t take off the vambrace, nor the armor. It bonded and nothing Stephanie tried could remove either. An ingenious idea arrived in a flash. He lifted the orange jumper and made his armor transform to an near exact copy. The vambrace then consumed the clothes into a compact ball and it squeezed it like a black heart before spitting out a cotton copy of his black and silver armor. I just hope the scanners don’t detect anything.

  He entered barefoot into a bindingly bright room. The door slammed shut behind him. Oliver feared the telltale warning that he carried something. Another stretch of time was actually ten seconds. The green light came on and he sighed as the next door slid open. He came out into a cage, trying to pull the psionic lever and gather, but the joints were frozen all over again. He was alone for several minutes till another door to the massive cage opened and in walked Renee in a jumper too.

  Before either could get close enough to hug there opened a third door.

  In walked a man who clearly went to Splicers to be inhumanely more intimidating and did a fine job with the results coming through that solid steel door. The man was at least three hundred and thirty five centimeters tall and had bulging muscles larger than a human head. The man’s physique was daunting enough without showing glowing blue eyes to taunt his psionics worked while theirs were useless somehow. To top it all off he carried Oliver’s sword. A gravelly voice akin to a snorting bull with a human face spoke “If today isn’t my lucky day. I get to play with bombers. To top it off I can finally get my revenge.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Who are…” Renee was suddenly hit by a crack of lightening and flung back. Oliver caught her before slamming into steel bars, but there was no room to fully shield her. He turned to the man and went to kill him, but sopped as the plasma rolling in his palm was clearly meant to kill. It gave Oliver pause and made him feel impotent in the situation. If he attacked, Renee would be hit.

  “Prisoners don’t backtalk. I’m Warden Wrangler. And we agree, we’ve never met, Bitch. Too bad Jake will never see his precious daughter again.” He smugly remained in place, playing with the ball of electricity.

  “Why? Why did you…” she stopped, but it was Oliver who cried out as he took her next shot with his own body.

  “Oh, you’re curious… you see, Jake Dorgen and I go back a few centuries when he took something precious from me that I’m trying to get back. He’ll never know his only spawn is under my care till you kill yourself. You and an elder Hunter are too good a prize to ever release and spill my secrets. Since no one has ever escaped my prison in the three centuries I’ve ruled… and all documentation of the trial and your transfer have been expunged… he’ll never figure it out. Officially, you died in the failed bombing you orchestrated. So very sad. I wish I could laugh in Jake’s face all the while I have two new pets for my experiments.”

  Warden Wrangler’s eyes unfocused for a bare fraction and the cage turned out to be an elevator. Renee was broken right then as she touched the back of Oliver’s neck and came back with sprinkles of blood. His nanites were already clotting the unprovoked attack, but the faint scent of burned hair and flesh told the wound wasn’t very large. The spliced giant gloated as they dropped from Level One to the infamous Level Four no one ever left from, except in a bag. A place where criminals were legally tortured for crimes against all humanity before finally being disposed of.

  Reaching the bottom Renee yelped as she and Oliver were telekinetically lifted and thrown over a hundred meters in a massive cell to roll and cry out in pain as the warden laughed at their helplessness. His voice carried as he walked off the elevator that worked by gravity. With a resounding boom the cell slammed shut. Level four was a smooth cylindrical pit no one could climb out of. Not only from greater gravity, but the slick walls which were over six stories high. “Take a nice look. This is
the trophy case. See it and know that no matter what you do, you can’t get your toys. Even if you can, it won’t do any good.” He opened it and displayed Oliver’s black sword. “Not that that decoration can do anything other than look pretty. It’s a dull blade. An elder carrying a dull blade. Never heard of that before. See you tomorrow children. Daddy’s got a little work to do before he can come down and have time to play.”

  The man took the unattached elevator up and out of the bottommost level.

  “Re… Renee?” Oliver asked between a cough that expelled some blood from biting his own tongue. “Renee?” he groaned in a great deal of pain as he rolled over and crawled to her side. He also felt seven and a half gees holding her down.

  “Olly? Help… my hip’s dislocated.” She called and he felt it. Her eyes were squeezed closed to moan. He made sure it was a simple dislocation despite the pain it caused. As she breathed in he couldn’t hear the socket being replaced as her blood curdling scream ripped from her throat. He felt it go in again as she groaned in great pain, her hands fisting his front clothes as she clung to him for safety.

  Oliver didn’t know how long he held her all the while imagining all the ways to kill the ruthless sonofabitch. But then he caught a rather peculiar scent and stiffened as realization hit that they weren’t alone. Slowly he looked left from the middle of the cell to find a pair of completely blue glowing eyes too far apart to be human. And by glowing, they were bright in the darkness. The difference was a faint glowing mist seeped away from the eyes a few centimeters before disappearing into the darkness the rest of the creature was cloaked in.

  He didn’t bother whispering. “Renee, get behind me. We’re not alone.”

  His words and tone had her pain and misery lowering so as to look through watery eyes. She watched him stand with an ease that was hard to even breathe for her in enhanced gravity. Then her eyes fell on the glowing pair in the darkness. Her breath left her as she grabbed Oliver’s ankle. “No Olly, don’t! Don’t do anything. Forget the pain and look at the eyes… it’s a Creelin.”

  Just as smoothly as Oliver stood, so did the eyes rise. The eyes tilted in a slant of curiosity.

  “I don’t care. Creelin or not, I’ll kill anyone who touches you. Do you hear me, Creelin? You will not touch my woman without going through me.” Oliver clearly meant it as his muscles seemed to grow.

  Out of the shadows stepped the Creelin.

  Skin the color of grey-blue evenly coated the obvious male Creelin. Like human women, Creelin women were much smoother, had round breasts and they didn’t have ridges on their sloped back forehead. This male’s ridges were extremely pronounced, the ridges looking more like small pointed mountains. His physique was thin, but fast. An obvious physique of a Creelin warrior. Hair-like black antennae flowed down from the back of his head. Three fingers and a thumb each had fingernails thick enough to be and were sharpened into claws. His lions were covered in a pale blue cloth. Humanoid legs were normal till it got down to two thick, mostly flat toes excellent for sudden acceleration and rock climbing. The face though was more narrowed. Two teardrop holes directly between the glowing eyes expanded and contracted to smell and breathe, but where one would assume a mouth to be was a pointed jaw and no other slit. Oddly, it was clean despite the cell’s conditions of old hay laced with bugs.

  “Oliver… Don’t… please…” Renee’s plea was heard, but his stance didn’t alter.

  “For all I know that fucking sociopath only has a grudge against the captain, but this guy may be here for a real crime.”

  The Creelin held still, merely observing. Keeping those long clawed fingers down. Renee though said “If his people knew he was here they would get him. Our treaty with them is broken to imprison… but look at his stomach. They’ve been torturing him for years. Creelin aren’t human. Never have we found a hint of any criminal ways in their society. And what’s worse… look at his eyes… see the mist seeping? He’s a Zeelin warrior of immense power and likely of high rank… oh no… look at his hair… Stars… this is not good…”

  Oliver’s gaze turned to the bottom of the hair to find about a hundred or so cords plugged in the black ends attached to the wall. It became clear then. “So that bastard Wrangler weakens you? I read your hair is extremely sensitive and to yank on even one will knock you out? Is that right?”

  The creature was several centimeters shorter than Oliver, but not by much, nodded solemnly. Then to Oliver’s surprise the Creelin lifted his hands and quickly began using them.

  “What’s he doing?” Renee asked as she groaned to roll on her stomach, one hand on her throbbing hip.

  Oliver blinked as he began to recognize the movements. “He’s using sign language.”

  “What?”

  “Before the immortal and psionic chromosomes were discovered and all cures were not discovered, many humans were deaf… they used their hands to communicate. I read about it during my history lesson.”

  “What’s he saying then?”

  “He’s saying his name is Nay-tool…” the hands quickly changed. “N. E. T. U. L. Sorry. He’s also vowing he means no harm if we honorably show the same kindness.”

  “We agree… Netul, can you hold any power at all?”

  The Creelin shook his head.

  “Fuck, neither can I. My link to Sparky is barely there too.”

  Netul looked to Oliver and made quick gestures. “Sparky is a Drake and she is his rider… Class twelve… Yes, that asshole threw us in for something we were innocent of, but then wiped our existence here because of a grudge with her father and sent me along to join her because I’m sure he hates Hunters too… her first then. One condition, let me hold one of your antennae to make sure that’s all you’ll do.”

  Netul’s nose took a deep breath and carefully passed one strand over and Oliver gently gripped it like a rope. Renee showed no fear as the Creelin knelt beside her and carefully kept his filed fingernails from slicing her skin as he began examining her face then opened her jumper to bypass her underwear and check her ribs, abdomen and hip. As he examined she said “Netul, I feel my nanites still working. I’ll need a good three hours before my hip is fine, but this constant gravity is hard to survive long.”

  He finished at her feet and stood to look at Oliver to translate. “He says you are lucky that your nanites remain. The way you landed would have perforated your liver and you would have died without them. He says you must rest and recover. The gravity would have killed you if you weren’t suited to heavier worlds already.” Oliver then let go of the strand. “No don’t worry about me. Aside from getting zapped in the head and biting my tongue, I’m fine.” Netul’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took a deep sniff and Oliver did the same. “Though I don’t know what your scent is like angry, I don’t think you are a danger.” Netul’s hands quickly gave warning and Oliver was ready as the Creelin’s alight eyes turned to murderous red rather than calm blue-green. The scent change was as profound as the eye color. “Yeah, that was clear enough. Let me return the favor.”

  Netul stumbled back as Oliver’s scent likewise was no longer protective, but intended death to all who got in the way. The red eyes soon went back to calming blue as humor seemed to silently shake the being with mirth. He signed ‘Take care of your match. We can converse openly and have time… probably.’

  Oliver no longer feared the warrior for some reason. Probably because he had willingly offered his species’ one true weakness willingly. Risking immense pain just to help did go a long way. He dropped to his knees as worry lines wrinkled his brow. Renee tried a little light humor as she willingly let him put her head in his lap. “Relax. Still, this has been better than some of my other dates.”

  “Red, why does that sonofabitch hate your father? Just who is he?”

  “First, I don’t have a clue why he wants to hurt Papa through me… if Papa learns of this… the Creelin armada will be the least of our concerns. Wrangler has lost his fucking mind jailing one… and a Zeelin warrior n
o less. Netul could blow up the facility and not need to blink if he wasn’t under the electrical suppressor. It’s a damn good thing nanites are crystal or old digital nanites would have been fried. You know psionics create electromagnetic pulses right?”

  “Your stalling. Who is Jake Dorgen?”

  Renee’s sparkling green eyes showed how much she hid the pain. “Sorry, Idiot. A girl must keep her secrets. Besides, Papa doesn’t like anyone talking behind his back. And stop wrinkling that forehead. The brooding look isn’t sexy. At least we’re locked up together.”

  “But.” She found it not so easy, but made him stop talking by pinching his lips with her fingers. She shook her head.

  “Turn me so we don’t isolate him.” She prompted and sucked in a breath as he shifted so they could see the Creelin sitting cross-legged three meters away.

  “Before we get started on introductions,” Oliver began. “Netul, you called her my ‘match’. What did you mean?”

  The huge head tilted marginally as he began speaking with his hands, using his pinky-less hands to great effect. ‘She and your scents are ideal for breeding the best young. You’ve mated, but your ties to her are beyond words. In my people, we are called ‘matching pairs’ or ‘match’ for short. It is like your people using the title mates or those who rarely marry. She is your true match. We each get just one true match. Finding the scent makes the frenzy begin. Matching pairs cannot live without the other. In time we die once a bond is formed to follow them into the void. My own match knows I live as I know she does due to the fact my life force still remains with me and calm.’

  “I like that.” Renee smiled, still laid out on Oliver’s knee and looked up. “Who would have guessed we found a perfect word. Netul, Oliver and I didn’t know how to articulate how we feel for each other. Thank you for your help though you didn’t know I’ve been wracking my brain. ‘Matching pair’… I like it.”

  This time Netul silently asked ‘How have you younglings come to be in this wretched place?’