by Lars Teeney
“Sorry, Graham, this is my family and my religion we are talking about here.” Keir washed his hands of his lifelong friend.
“It appears that all of your minds are made up here.” Graham tried to quickly run by the President and the Inquisitor to freedom. Inquisitor Rodrigo pulled a “U-lock” that was tucked into his spandex shorts and delivered a blow to the back of Graham’s head. Graham collapsed to the floor. The world around him became a haze and the sounds echoed in his head. He remembered hearing the Inquisitor’s voice, “I have very inventive methods of learning all we need from traitors such as yourself.”
Graham tried to process what was being said, but the effort was too great, and he passed out into the darkness.
⍟ ⍟ ⍟
Keir’s quarters had been cleared and he sent his family back to Keir’s residence. Keir was sitting on a barstool, looking shaken. President Schrubb had gone behind the bar and poured himself a shot of whiskey, he downed it and coughed a little. He then grabbed a stein and filled it with a pale ale, and took a swig to chase the whiskey.
“Wow, what a sensation. Boy, I tell ya, when I was younger I would put shots like that away like there was no tomorrow. Of course when I do it these days it means hours of regeneration therapy,” President Schrubb admitted looking at himself in the beer tap reflection.
Keir said nothing. He just stared down at the bar. President Schrubb gave Keir a cold look as he took another sip from the stein.
“I like what you have done with the place! Full bar, jacuzzi, amazing furniture, a mountain of toys for the kids, and treacherous plots! All with my money. You’ve got my balls, kid,” President Schrubb threateningly said, leaning over the bar toward Keir.
“Father, I...figured that being so close to the end that—” Keir was cut off.
“That what? That you and your family could stop living Virtuously and partake in a bunch of banned material like a family of fucking Apostates!” President Schrubb worked himself up too much and began to have a coughing fit.
“Father, drink some water! You shouldn’t drink right now!” Keir was worried his elderly father would keel over at any second.
“My treacherous son, presumes to know what’s best for me, huh?” President Schrubb recovered from his coughing fit.
“Father, please.” Keir was fearful for his life.
“Living it up, you paid for it by letting most of the ministry staff go. Boy, you sure do have quite the sense of timing! We are on the eve of the Rapture, and you are endangering everything by weakening the security of our state because you wanted to live it up before the end.” President Schrubb was livid, but he was trying to keep his heart rate down. He knew that if he worked himself up too much he could die.
“You know the danger we face with this group of Apostates roaming free. They are out there and are plotting to stop the Coming of the Lord. Do you have any idea what would happen to us if they succeed? The people would tear us apart if the Reverend did not deliver on his promise.” President Schrubb was facing down his potential fate.
“Father, I know what danger the Apostates represent,” Keir reassured.
“Don’t give me that shit, boy! You were discussing treasonous plots with Wynham! I cannot even fathom...The son of my best friend, plotting a coup, with my son! Never in a million years would I have thought this would come from you.” President Schrubb had moved from behind the bar to the window overlooking a courtyard, he held one hand behind his back and the other supported the stein of beer.
“Father, I will do whatever you need me—” Keir was cut short again.
“You damn will, boy. Do you know what happened out west while you were having your little party here? The resistance base was located, and L.O.V.E. attacked without the Inquisitor’s orders. They came close to taking the Apostates but failed in the end.” President Schrubb was agitated.
“Father, that is terrible news,” Keir shook as he spoke.
“Yes yes, but that’s not the worst of it. Survivors of the encounter reported that the Apostates have converted an entire reserve fleet to working order. They are at sea with a fleet of goddamned battleships. God knows where there are trying to get off to. They may try to sail through the Panama Strait. Sail up and attack the capital from the sea,” President Schrubb hypothesized.
“Father, I’ll do whatever I can to stop—” Again President Schrubb talked over Keir.
“Of course you will, boy. What you will do is activate the capital ship, you will personally take command of the N.M.N. Reverend Wilhelm, super battleship, and you will sink every last one of their vessels!” President Schrubb commanded.
“Yes! Of course father. I would never fail you!” Keir groveled.
“Good, because you are already condemned. The only way to clear your name is to destroy the Apostate fleet. You’re a traitor to me until the time you destroy them.” President Schrubb did not look at Keir when he spoke. Keir began to tear up, something psychological was triggered in him, and he reverted to the role of a child, pleading for the approval of his father. Keir grabbed a napkin from the bar to wipe tears away.
“Yes, father.” Keir kept it short.
“I’m glad we have an understanding. You will be under watch by L.O.V.E. I will be in touch with further details about your mission and the time table. Wait for further instructions.” With that President Schrubb slammed the stein on the bar, and walked out of the room. He joined up with his detail and then he was gone.
Keir couldn’t help it, he was a child again. He folded his arms onto the bar, tucked his head in and started balling uncontrollably. Then anger took over. He cursed his father in his head. Keir forced himself to stop crying. He was trying to harness his rage to harden his heart. He could not fail in his new mission if he did he knew his family would pay the price as well. Keir also cursed Graham Wynham, that treacherous bastard tried to enlist Keir into his plot. Keir also cursed himself for nearly joining the plot. He had let his pride get the better of his judgment, and he would not let it happen again. Keir was going to turn himself into an unfeeling weapon; a pure force of will that would not rest until all Apostates lay lifeless. Keir rushed over near to the sofa, and picked up a pair of weights and started doing arm curls, manically, far faster than usually recommended.
⍟ ⍟ ⍟
Everything was pitch dark. The pounding in his head was unbearable. Graham had a vague idea what had happened but he had no idea about his current whereabouts, and whether his entire body was intact. Graham knew that he had been restrained in some fashion because he couldn’t move his limbs freely. He couldn’t detect whether he was blindfolded or in a dark room. Graham’s retinal display still worked, he guessed that L.O.V.E. hadn’t found out that his neural implant had been altered to encrypt data and send it onto a masked sub-network. He formulated a message and sent it to the Apostate’s anonymous address. It was the only chance he would get. Graham assumed that they would canvass the data banks of his neural implant, and when they did they would come upon an encrypted partition. It would only be a matter of time before they would discover all of his secrets, but they would need to remove it from his head.
More worrisome was that they would have the identity of the Apostates and the Regime would be privy to his plans. They would have what they needed to thwart everything. Graham weighed his options, he was a dead man no matter how it played out. Perhaps he could provoke one of his captors to kill him once they started his interrogation. Chances are his interrogators would be experienced professionals, not reactionary enough for him to provoke them. They interrogators would very soon hijack his neural implant. If they didn’t administer physical torture it would most likely be torture by manipulating his implant, he surmised. Graham was trying to prepare himself mentally for whatever they could throw at him. He was determined not to break, he had already sacrificed everything in defiance of the Regime, what more could they do to him? He would keep his iron discipline to the last.
Graham heard the openi
ng of a rusty-hinged door, and footsteps slowly approaching his position. He guessed that he had heard a metal stool being dragged across the room on hard concrete, then it is placed on its four legs. The sound of a cigarette being lit was heard, and a shifting of weight on the stool.
“Well, Mr. Wynham, you really did it this time. You had it all. A cushy lifestyle, the head of Wynham Industries. You were on track to claiming your place in the Lord’s Kingdom. But, you have forfeited that privilege,” the voice said.
Graham thought that it was probably the Inquisitor, gloating about his catch. Graham sat silent, he would try to ignore the Inquisitor as long as possible.
“Your family has had a close relationship with the Schrubbs for nearly two hundred years. Why would you throw that away?” Inquisitor Rodrigo prodded.
“You have dishonored your family name. You have ruined your business. The state will assume Wynham Industries operations and your assets will be claimed to help fund preparations for the Second Coming.” Inquisitor Rodrigo attempted to elicit a reaction from Graham.
“I see that you are a hard nut to crack. I admire that in a man. You would have been a valuable asset to us had you not tried to seek power for yourself. Imagine that, trying to manipulate the President’s son to treason for your own ends.” The Inquisitor got off the stool and walked a lap around Graham. He paced for a time and said nothing. Graham wondered what sort of perverse torture lay in store for him. He also wondered if the Apostates would be successful in their mission, this certainly complicated matters. He could no longer help them physically or financially.
“Fortunately, Keir Schrubb is a weak-willed man and easy to control. But, that’s why you chose him didn’t you? It would have been a different story if it were Kate,” Inquisitor Rodrigo persisted. Graham felt the blindfold being gripped and pulled away. Graham was bombarded by a flurry of light, he winced with sensitivity. When his eyes adjusted he could see Inquisitor Rodrigo standing in front of him in full dress uniform. Graham could hardly move his head but from what he could glean he was being restrained and held in place by a steel framework. It kept him locked in an upright position but rooted on the floor. There was a flood light beaming in his face, making it impossible to see any detail behind the light.
“You are a cold and calculating man, Mr. Wynham. But, it wasn’t enough. That is the reason my organization is so effective. We keep tabs on the Schrubbs whether they like it or not, to keep them safe from their friends,” Rodrigo gloated. He pulled at the bottom of Graham’s eyes and looked at each.
“Looks like your starting to come around. So you can make this plenty easy on yourself, by divulging your full plan. We may even give you a quick death if you do.” Rodrigo walked over to a table in the rear of the room, Graham couldn’t make out what he was doing. After a moment, he finished and approached Graham.
“So, will you talk to us, Mr. Wynham?” Rodrigo asked with a certain finality.
“I have nothing to say,” was all Graham could muster.
“Most unfortunate for you, but plenty fortunate for me. This is the best part of my job.” Rodrigo brandished a small injection device in his hand. He removed the cap, then plunged it into Graham’s shoulder. Graham guessed it was some kind of drug that would interface with his neural implant. Graham was confident he could withstand anything Rodrigo threw at him. After all he had plenty experience with ‘Database’. He would not crack because of that.
“You see Mr. Wynham. My organization did some digging on you. We found some records that you may find interesting. You really were sloppy and should have done a better job of covering your tracks,” Rodrigo’s voice became altered. It sounded like it was getting deeper and slightly modulated.
Rodrigo’s face looked like a soft focus filter had been applied to it. Everything looked slightly fuzzy. Graham felt like he was in a bubble, but like all his senses had been amplified within the bubble. He couldn’t think in completely a coherent train of thought.
“I have something to show you. I think you will be very interested to see it,” Rodrigo was practically whispering. He used a switch to rotate the rig that suspended Graham’s body forty-five degrees horizontally until he faced a metal rolling door. Another switch was pressed and the rolling door began to lift. After several inches, Graham could feel heat emanating out from the opening. As the door rolled up further, he could make out a retractable metal vent that was governing the amount of heat escaping through it. Slowly he spied three sets of suspended feet, one of an adult and two of smaller sets. The door continued up, he made out the forms of three bodies. The door completed its journey and all was on display. The three figures suspended by chains from their wrists from the ceiling were those of his wife and two children; Elsa and his two children Jasper and Meriwether. They were gagged with their eyes looking terrified.
Graham shirked in fear and shock, he shook his head as best he could and grimaced, attempting to remove the sensory lies presented to him. Graham struggled but every time he looked back all he could see was his family hanging before him. He was powerless and could not distinguish between reality and illusion. Graham willed himself to reject the illusion before his eyes, he had sent his family overseas years ago. They were beyond the reach of the Regime. There was no way they could have been captured, or was there? Graham knew that L.O.V.E. had many connections and a long reach. Could this be real?
“Now that I have your attention, Graham, I would like to remind you of the stakes here. You plotted and schemed to hurt people important to me, and as you know I have the capability to do the same to you. So, if you don’t want that to happen you will disclose all the details of your plot and any collaborators that you’ve worked with. The easiest way to do this is to give us access to the encrypted partition in your neural implant,” Rodrigo demanded.
“I-I know this isn’t real. Y-y-you can go to hell.” Graham was as defiant as he could be in his state.
“Fair enough. This troubles me not. I quite enjoy it.” Rodrigo stood upright and faced the suspended figures. He flipped a switch and the metal cover below the feet of the victims slid away from the grate, revealing the red glow of burning coals. The feet were bare, and the woman and two children immediately began to wrench their bodies to and fro, in an effort move their limbs away from the heat. Muffled cries sounded beneath dirty gags. Rodrigo flipped the switch and the metal cover slid back into place.
“Nothing like a nice fire to warm the feet on a cold night.” Rodrigo had a wide smile on his face.
“Do you have anything that you want to tell me?” Rodrigo drew close to Graham’s face. Graham was determined not to break. He looked Rodrigo in the eye and said nothing.
“Very well, let’s resume our cook out, shall we.” Rodrigo faced the three prisoners and flipped the switch, which removed the cover. Heat and flame could be felt coming from the grate. Blisters formed on the bottom of feet and the small hairs on toes began to singe. Several of the blisters burst and the reek of burning flesh permeated the air. The three victims flailed wildly as the pain of slow burn coursed through their bodies. The children’s muted wails struck something deep inside of Graham, he couldn’t help himself and tears coursed down his cheeks. This was bigger than he or his family, even if it was real he would not crack.
“Okay, now that the feet have been nicely seared, let’s see if you have anything to say to me.” Rodrigo looked at Graham, expectantly. Graham stared back, with wet eyes.
“You fucking animal. This whole Regime will be taken apart. You’ll pay for what you’ve done,” Graham said through clenched teeth.
“My good Mr. Wynham. My place is reserved in the Lord’s kingdom. My conscience is clear. We can stop all the suffering right now. Just give me what I want,” Rodrigo tried to reason, but secretly hoped that Graham was stubborn because he wanted to see this through.
“I promise, you will not reach your Lord’s kingdom,” Graham threatened, he struggled to try to free himself in vain.
“Very well, sh
all we continue with the festivities?” Rodrigo flipped the switch once more and the grate opened releasing the heat. Writhing and struggling commenced as freshly burned limbs were exposed to the scorching heat once more. The muted screams sounded and tears flowed. The limbs flesh turned from a reddish-pink to a purple. Glowing red cracks formed, and smoky rose from the spasming feet. Graham wailed and cringed, he squinted his eyes shut.
“Stop! Stop it! I’ll tell you. No more!” Graham blurted out, spittle flying from his lips.
“Why, Mr. Wynham, I knew you’d see things my way. Now, what do you want to tell me?” Rodrigo looked on with anticipation.
Graham had deduced that because they do not have access to the encrypted partition in his neural implant that the Inquisitor had no knowledge of his involvement with the Apostates. As far as the Inquisitor was concerned he was just the ringleader of a failed coup d’état. Graham figured naming accomplices might be enough to satisfy Rodrigo. Graham had also found out from Kate Schrubb that the Ministry of State Security had reason to believe Cardinal Zhukov of the Church of New Megiddo was the Apostate’s mole. Graham could cast the blame on Zhukov painting a picture of a wider conspiracy.
“R-Rodrigo, it was Zhukov, Cardinal Zhukov of the Church. The coup was his idea. He came to me and laid out his plan. I-I agreed and said I would try to get Keir’s support. That’s all! Please let them go!” Graham pleaded with Rodrigo. He couldn’t decide if it was real or illusion. If it was real his bluff could buy his family life, and himself, time.
“See, Mr. Wynham, that wasn’t so difficult. Now, is there anything you would like to add to that?” Inquisitor Rodrigo asked. He had a mischievous look in his eye.
“N-n-no. I told you everything. That’s all,” Graham insisted. He was exhausted and couldn’t keep his head upright for long.