The Best British Fantasy 2014

by Steve Haynes

  ‘If I had a long journey,’ agreed Rik. The torturer’s thumbs carried on rubbing and rubbing against his shoulder blades. ‘But I only stayed in authorised non-segregated transit motels – in line with the provisions of my travel permits.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ suggested the torturer, ‘you had other reasons for spending the night? Perhaps you were having secret liaisons with some Scorpio whore? Perhaps she was fucking information out of you?’

  ‘Never!’ cried Rik. ‘I was good at my job. I took pride in my work. I would never have jeopardised my career for the sake of an unlawful relationship. And, as I keep repeating, I didn’t have any information worth passing on to anyone.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’ asked the torturer. ‘Are you sure your loyalty to your own kind was not infected and compromised in some way by your constant contact with those of inferior star signs?’

  Now his thumbs and fingers squeezed hard around the cartilage of Rik’s shoulders. Rik cried out in agony. He would have writhed and kicked had he been able to move his arms and legs. Instead he shook his head violently left to right. This just made the torturer laugh and squeeze all the harder. So hard that Rik thought the cartilage was bound to snap.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he kept asking. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Rik kept screaming. ‘I’m sure.’

  The torturer relented.

  He walked slowly in front of Rik’s chair, laboriously cleaning his hands with a strongly perfumed wet-wipe. As the pain in Rik’s shoulders began to recede he was almost overcome by a wave of dizziness that could so easily have robbed him of consciousness had not the torturer pulled the trolley closer and caused fear to punch him wide awake.

  ‘You do know that your silence will eventually be in vain?’ asked the torturer. He neatly folded the wet-wipe and placed in the breast pocket of his shirt. ‘Our military astrologers predict a resounding victory for the forces of Fire and our glorious allies in Air.’

  ‘Then you have no need to do this to me,’ said Rik, bruised eyes transfixed by the ominous object beneath the sheet on the trolley.

  The torturer carefully removed the sheet, folding it into a perfect square. What sat beneath this was a small black box with a handle protruding from one side and two electrical wires running from the other. On the end of the wires were metal-toothed bull-clips.

  ‘Quaint, don’t you think?’ the torturer asked him. ‘I collect devices like this. It’s my hobby. This particular model is known as the Tucker Telephone. It’s based on the design for an old fashioned hand cranked telephone and was developed by the resident physician at Tucker State Prison in America way back in the 1960’s. It runs on two dry cell batteries and its sole purpose is to deliver a rather unpleasant electrical shock.’

  ‘I have nothing I can tell you,’ insisted Rik.

  ‘I will give you ten more minutes to consider whether there is anything at all you wish to confess to,’ said the torturer. ‘If you decide at that point to maintain your stubborn silence I will attach these clips to your scrotum. The pain when the teeth dig into your flesh will be excruciating. But it will be nothing compared to the pain you will experience when I crank up the current.’

  Autumn 2047

  Rik ducked as a stray bullet ricocheted from the window ledge and sank itself into the wall with a dull thud. He ran his hand across the embroidered Aries symbol on the arm of his flack jacket. The words above the symbol read – Fire Forces and the words below it – Aries Division.

  There were no civilians any more. Everyone was conscripted to the war effort – either as an active combatant or a support auxiliary. Although nothing had ever been proven, Rik’s record as a suspected spy made it inevitable that he would be considered expendable and therefore sent on active service to the front line.

  Now, after months of bloody and brutal fighting, the war was almost over.

  The capital city of the Air Zone had all but fallen. The ruins of bombed out buildings were being systematically combed for survivors and the last remnants of organised resistance were centred on the two hundred or so pupils who had barricaded themselves into their High School. The offensive unit that Rik was attached to had been dispatched to finish them off.

  The military astrologers had been correct in their predictions of a Fire and Air victory over Water and Earth. And the victory was total. Over a period of eighteen months following their surrender the country had been thoroughly cleansed of everyone born under a Water or Earth star sign and a failsafe system of compulsory terminations or induced births put in place to ensure that children were only ever born under Fire or Air.

  However, the military junta that had assumed command in Air became greedy and ambitious, seizing territory that had clearly been designated as the rightful province of Fire. It had not taken long for such disputes and infractions to descend into all out war. Of course astrologers on both sides were keen to insist that the portents of the stars were on their side. Nevertheless Fire had the superior weaponry at its command and the traits associated with the star signs of its citizens turned out to be far more resolute and determined.

  Now it had all boiled down to this – a poorly armed band of defiant teenagers facing off a crack unit of battle hardened troops from Aries division. From the shattered window of the burned out warehouse they were occupying opposite the hastily fortified gates of their school Rik could see some of the kids moving hurriedly back and forth along the corridors. They seemed impossibly young.

  This wasn’t something he had any stomach for.

  However, his encounter with the torturer had turned him into an avowed coward and he knew with an absolute certainty that he would not risk any potential retribution by questioning the validity of an order issued by his superiors. In the current climate the slightest thing could be interpreted as flying in the face of the stars and immediate execution was the most likely punishment.

  Their sergeant was calling them into a huddle to begin her briefing.

  She was a veteran of the Zone war and had the wounds to prove it. The last two fingers on her right hand were missing and her face was cratered with the deep pockmarks of penetrating shrapnel. Amongst these pits and lesions her holographic Aries tattoo was still visible on her left check. These were mandatory now and Rik sported one himself. It was apparently just as important to differentiate between those born under Leo and Sagittarius, as it was to differentiate between those born Gemini, Libra or Aquarius.

  Because of the sergeant’s facial disfigurement it had taken Rik a good while to figure out where he knew her from and why her voice had such a familiar ring to it. It had been her throw away comment after they had massacred an entire brigade of Libran commandoes that had finally brought clarity to the matter.

  ‘Bury their stinking corpses as soon as you can,’ she’d ordered. ‘It makes my flesh creep just looking at them.’

  Rik had known in that instant that she had been the guard who had chatted to him that day so long ago when he’d been held up at the border. As he recalled they had taken up a nodding acquaintance from that point, acknowledging each other with a wave each time he passed in or out of the Fire Zone on his delivery routes.

  He was sure that she must be aware of his previous profession from his military records but if she had any inkling of their fleeting acquaintance she never let on. Desperate to avoid any sort of discussion that might eventually lead to speculation on the accusations once made against him Rik had taken great care not to mention it either. It didn’t stop his thoughts turning to that mild mannered Taurus baby he’d been delivering that day. And it didn’t stop the cold shiver that ran through him whenever he considered what might have become of her.

  ‘This will be a full frontal assault,’ the sergeant was saying. ‘There’s a contingent of snipers from the 5th Sagittarian Rifles stationed on the football pitch behind the school – just in case any of them try to make a br
eak for it.’

  She turned to face an eager faced woman standing to the right of Rik.

  ‘Templeton,’ said the sergeant. ‘You and McNeil take the rocket launcher to the fourth floor and fire on the gate. Once the fortifications are breached we go in all fucking guns blazing.’

  Around him Rik heard the sound of high-fives and shoulders being slapped. He forced a smile onto his face and feigned being as gung-ho as his comrades.

  ‘Remember,’ said the sergeant, ‘These are kids. Not all of them are armed. So you only shoot the ones who return fire.’

  ‘That’s outrageous,’ complained one of the grunts. ‘You’re saying because of their age we should spare them? We can’t be expected to do that. They’ll only grow up to be thorns in our sides. We can’t go against the astrologers and the astrologers’ reading of the portents is that for the sake of our own futures we must eliminate everyone born under an Air sign. Every last filthy one of them!’

  The sergeant held up her three-fingered hand, in the manner she had done the first time she and Rik had met at the border station, in the manner he had seen her do a dozen times or more since joining the unit. ‘I wasn’t suggesting they are spared, dick-head,’ she spat. ‘I was suggesting you spare ammunition. There may be other struggles ahead of us. If we take as many of them prisoner as possible the Extermination Camps can finish the job.’

  Rik shuddered at the mention of the camps. Ever since their existence and purpose had become public knowledge they had been the dark material that fed the dreadful nightmare that seemed to constantly re-occur whenever he closed his eyes to sleep.

  In these terrible dreams he would see all of the children he’d once delivered to re-assigned parents. They would be lined up one behind the other – all of them now eight or nine years old – the boys and the girls – Gemini, Libra and Aquarius, ahead of them Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces, Taurus, Virgo and Capricorn. Each one of them trembling in terror as their turn to endure the penetrating needle of the fatal injection drew ever nearer. All of them looking at him with accusing eyes – You did this to us. You did this . . .

  Rik blinked and shook his head as images from the dream tried to replay in his head. Templeton and McNeil were already departing with the rocket launcher. The other troopers began loading magazines into their assault rifles. Trembling slightly Rik did likewise.

  ‘We go on my word,’ said the sergeant.

  Rik shouldered his rifle and decided in that instant that his one act of defiant mercy would be to shoot to kill – regardless of any immediate threat posed to him.

  Winter 2051

  Rik knew from the smell of disinfectant and the starchiness of the sheets that he lay upon that he was in a hospital bed. His eyelids felt heavy. When he tried to force them open the light stung so badly that he had to close them immediately.

  I’m lucky to be alive, he thought.

  It had not been long after the triumph of Fire over Earth that the Leos began to air their grievances. They convinced themselves that the military hierarchy, who were mainly Sagittarius and Aries by birth, were conspiring to exclude them from the spoils of victory. Their astrologers confirmed this to be the case and pointed out that Leos were being discriminated against in the job market and afforded only the worst slum housing.

  They set up autonomous Leo enclaves – called them ‘prides’ – started posturing about how ‘lionhearted’ they intended to be in the defence of their cause. Splinter groups began to engage in kidnap and hostage taking in order to press for concessions to their unjustified and increasing unrealistic demands. When this strategy failed they resorted to acts of terror – suicide bombs and hi-jacking.

  The Sagittarian and Arian astrologers consulted the stars and proclaimed that it was written that the world must also be cleansed of Leos. Horoscopes, based on date and time of birth, were compiled to select which serving soldiers should be seconded to the elite genocide brigades.

  Rik was amongst those given carte blanche to search and destroy.

  Rik’s torturer had been a Leo and it was his face that Rik saw when he was carrying out his orders. The sadistic animal had never given Rik his name, but it didn’t matter – not any more. He was a Leo and there were enough of them to around.

  It was his neatly trimmed hair, his clean-shaven jaw and his manicured fingernails that Rik saw whenever he executed a Leo at close range. It was the sickly smell of his soaps and lotions and the lightening jolt of the electrical current jarring though his genitals that he remembered when he shot a Leo in the head and tasted the splatter of their blood on his lips.

  The memory of what he’d endured in that damp underground room made it easy to hate and despise his cowering victims. A cold logic took hold of him. In times past sections of humanity had used nationality, race or religion to justify intolerance against another. Why not birth date and star sign? Accepting that premise became easy too when it was so obvious that the Leos felt the same way about Sagittarians and Arians.

  It was while on a mission to cleanse an inner city Leo ‘pride’ that Rik’s unit had been the target of a booby-trapped car parked by the roadside. He remembered the white, searing light of the explosion and moments later lying on his back, the wind knocked out of his lungs, looking up at the dirty, smoke filled sky, his ears ringing so badly he thought that he must have burst both eardrums. He couldn’t feel his legs or his arms and he had wondered if any of the severed limbs scattered about him were his. He had wondered how long it would take his Arian comrades to avenge this cowardly attack.

  He had no recollection of how he had arrived at the hospital, or how long he had been bed ridden. But he hoped there was an end to it now. Surely he was so badly wounded that they could no longer expect him to carry out front line duties?

  His head felt oddly heavy when he tried to turn on the pillow. When he reached up there was some kind of hard structure encompassing the area just above each ear. Perhaps a brace holding together repairs made to injuries to his skull? He patted his chest and his arms and his legs. He seemed to be covered in some type of rough, fleecy material that he assumed must be a newly developed type of dressing and concluded, therefore, that he had been severely burned by the explosion.

  ‘You’re awake,’ said a voice from somewhere near the side of the bed. ‘Excellent.’

  Rik opened his eyes. The light stung, but not as badly as it had done a moment ago. Blinking rapidly he was gradually able to make out the image of a doctor standing over him. He was bald headed and bespectacled, his white tunic had been fashioned on the design of a military uniform, there was an Aries symbol, encompassed by the words Aries Forces – Medical Division, embroidered on his left sleeve. He sported a holographic Aries tattoo on his cheek.

  ‘How do you feel?’ he asked.

  ‘Groggy,’ replied Rik. ‘Confused.’

  ‘Perfectly understandable in the circumstances,’ said the doctor.

  He turned and motioned to someone who was hovering in the doorway.

  ‘I have a visitor for you,’ he said.

  A girl of around twelve or thirteen years old entered the room and stood shyly beside the doctor, watching Rik from the corner of her eyes. She was dressed in a school blazer, also fashioned on the design of a military uniform. There was a badge with an embroidered Aries symbol on her left sleeve. It read Aries Forces – Youth Division. She too sported an Aries tattoo on her cheek.

  ‘This is my daughter,’ said the doctor. ‘You won’t remember me. But when you were brought here I was sure that I recognised your face. I checked your records. You were an Infant Courier, were you not?’

  Not sure where this was going Rik nodded his head. Again he felt the unusual awkward weight of it on his neck.

  ‘I am in your debt,’ said the doctor. ‘My wife and I were unable to have children. But the stars sent you to us and you brought us our daughter.’ He put his arm around the girl and h
ugged her close to him. She blushed and smiled at Rik.

  ‘She was born in the Water Zone,’ said the doctor. ‘To a Cancer mother and a Scorpio father. But she was blessed, like her mother and I, to be born under Aries. And it was by your hand that we were united.’

  All Rik could think about was the other babies that he had delivered into Earth, Air and Water. Given what had transpired none of them were in any way blessed.

  ‘I simply had to bring her to see you,’ the doctor was saying. ‘To show her what a glorious thing you have become. To show her that you are again set to become her saviour and protector.’

  ‘What are you talking about,’ asked Rik.

  ‘You have been unconscious for some considerable time,’ replied the doctor. ‘Partly as a consequence of your injuries and partly due to the coma it was necessary for us to induce. In that time the problem of the Leos has been resolved. But it is the Sagittarians who have now risen against us.’

  Rik felt his heart sink at the depressing predictability of it all.

  ‘The years of struggle have taken their toll on military resources,’ continued the doctor. ‘Neither side any longer has sufficient munitions to fight a war in the modern sense. The treacherous Sagittarians have taken several cities and slaughtered innocent Arians who previously fought alongside them. They defend these cities like mediaeval fortresses. Sagittarian archers raining deadly arrows down on our brave soldiers each time they attempt an assault.’

  ‘So I assume that the astrologers have consulted the stars?’ said Rik, not even attempting to disguise the sarcasm in his voice.

  ‘They have,’ agreed the doctor. ‘And the stars decreed that we must create a new type of soldier – one hewn from the damaged material of our wounded. Our innovative scientists have developed a material known as silverwool, part synthetic and part organic, impervious to arrowheads. We have found ways to enhance body mass and muscle tissue. We have created resilient headgear implants in order to enable our storm troopers, our rams, to lock horns with the enemy in close mortal combat.’