"Well, that is a bit upsetting. But I thank you for the update."
"I have one more update." Masamba rustled some papers before continuing. "The clone of Azimandian's Prince Aveni that you sent here from when it broke into your mansion and attacked Nemo Tillman has been awakened in the military interrogation bunker. He has not spoken yet, but our agents are hard at work. We are confident that the clone will break and tell us everything he knows."
"Good, good." He nodded and picked up his cappuccino once more. "I have to get going, Masamba. I need to take Nemo to school on his first day. If Rav's condition changes, you call me back and let me know. You will, won't you?"
"Yes, I will. I should let you know one more thing. Nemo's school . . . is it a secured area?"
"Very much so. Gated with security guards, cameras, and its own police force. It is the most prestigious boarding school on Darkshot."
"A private school?" Masamba asked. "Not in any way funded by the government?"
What did that have to do with anything? "That's correct. Where are you going with this?"
"Nothing. It is of little concern now that you have cleared that up. Have a pleasant day, Viktor Cyrino."
* * *
The thin plastic stick cracked across the backs of Nemo's knuckles, leaving a stripe of blood welling up on his broken skin. "Ouch!" He clutched his wounded hand to his chest and backed away from the female teacher in the plain black gown as tears stung in his eyes.
"Nemo Tillman, you will learn to behave, or you will receive more punishment. You are only to speak when you are given permission. Now, sit back down and continue your work."
Nemo's pale skin flushed with his embarrassment. The eyes of every other student in the classroom were glued on him. Rubbing the raised welt on his left knuckles, he sat down in his desk and silently cried while the lecture continued. He had only been there for three hours, but he had already gotten in trouble twice. The first was a warning. The second was a slap with the cruel orange plastic stick that the teacher kept tucked behind her ear. The first time was for scribbling pictures on his desk. The second was for whispering to a boy behind him, telling him to stop pulling his hair. Overall, it had been a hellish day. And it was only ten in the morning.
Nemo was on the verge of a total breakdown. He did not want to be there. He wanted to be at home. He wanted to be out of his itchy wool uniform. Most of all, he wanted to be with his daddy. The other children had their own groups of friends, so they had no need for another. None of them seemed to notice the new kid. Except for the ten-year-old bully in the desk behind him. As the only six-year-old in a class of nine- and ten-year-old boys, Nemo was the instant target of humiliation and name-calling. His scores on the entrance exam placed him three years ahead of other children his age, but the school failed to factor his small frame and inherent timidness into their decision.
All Nemo wanted to do was focus on his schoolwork, but the boy behind him kept flicking his ears and pulling his hair. He did his best to ignore it, clutching the copper crucifix on the chain around his neck to give him strength . . . but even praying did not stop the boy.
Nemo tightened his tiny fist around his pen and whispered to the bully. "Stop it. You're getting me in trouble." He wrote another number on his worksheet, but winced when the boy jabbed his pen into the back of his neck. He had enough. Interrupting the quiet classroom and the teacher's lecture, Nemo stood up to face the much larger brown-haired boy. "I said stop! It hurts. Don't be mean to people!"
Heels clicked on the polished tile floor as the teacher stormed up to them, taking Nemo by the scruff of his neck. "Nemo Tillman, these outbursts are unacceptable. Hand on the desk."
"No! Don't hurt me."
"Hand on the desk, now!"
Nemo trembled as he placed his left hand once again on the top of his desk. "Don't. Please don't."
The plastic stick cut a parallel line of red directly below the first on his knuckles.
"Ah!" Nemo's tears fell freely, the pain breaking through his defenses. He held his bloody hand and screamed. "I didn't do anything wrong. It was him. He hurt me and I told him to stop. He hurt me and then you hurt me too!"
"That is the third demerit in one day, Mr. Tillman. Report to the headmistress's office for a paddling."
"I didn't do anything!"
The teacher wrote out a punishment pass and handed it to him. "The longer you try to get out of this, the harsher your punishment will be. Now go. Down the hall and to the left."
Nemo shuffled to the door, his hand bleeding and his face smeared with tears. Just when he reached up to turn the doorknob, the door was pushed open from the other side, sending him falling backwards onto the floor.
A blond man in a flared purple jacket, white suit, and tall boots stepped into the classroom. He had a black eye and multiple burns around his lips from some sort of apparent recent torture. He reached down to help Nemo to his feet then addressed the classroom in a heavy accent. "I am Tobias Desruisseaux, the recently reinstated Director of the Department of Peace. I need every child to leave their belongings then come with me to the transport ship."
The teacher turned off the hologram of the known universe they had been discussing. "Excuse me? You can't barge in here and take these students. Where are they going?"
"I can take them, and I will. I am operating under the direct orders of President Brightman. These students will be transported to Elysia to join the Children's Corps."
"These are the upper class children of businessmen, bankers, and politicians. This is a privately funded institution. The government has no right to take these children. It's the law. They can't draft children from private hospitals, education centers, or work training programs."
"This is an emergency situation. Every man and woman we have in the service has been sent to the front lines to combat the invading Azimandian forces. The enemy has launched a full-scale attack on our military bases across Elysia and her moons on the accusation that our president has abducted Prince Aveni, Warlord Tirlmayn's son. All children of able body and mind are required to join the army or the Flight Force."
"You're taking all of this school's children?" The teacher asked, her face reflecting her horror.
"We are taking all of Darkshot's children. The moon colonies are safe, but the main planet must step up and do its part for the war effort." Tobias stepped to the side to allow the soldiers in black exosuits to enter the room, their laser rifles primed and aimed at the teacher. The sounds of laser fire and screams echoed down the halls from other classrooms and in the courtyard.
One of the soldiers spoke from behind his helmet. "Line up from youngest to oldest and place your hands on the back of your heads. If you comply, no one will get hurt." He motioned to the teacher who was typing onto the screen of her communicator. "Put the communicator down. This is a classified military operation. Any attempt to leak details will be immediately handled with lethal force."
"You can't do this. You can't take the kids of the wealthy and affluent. They've paid their draft avoidance tax already!"
The soldier's gun buzzed as he fired into the woman, dropping her with one shot to the brain. "Children, don't look at that. Come line up in front of me." He snatched Nemo's arm and pulled him to stand at the head of the room. "Stay here. Tobias, send a notice to the families of these children and let them know that they will be heroes and to not come looking for them. With the information about the Azimandian attacks plastered across the internet and in the news broadcasts, they should understand why we are being forced to do this. I'm placing the robot boy in your care. Do not let the other soldiers take him to the base with these. He is a valuable piece of technology that we can't lose like the other kids."
Tobias took Nemo's hand and led him into the hallway where gunshots now joined the laser fire. Pools of blood and ashes from disintegrated bodies had smeared in the corridors and along the mural-covered walls. He rushed Nemo through the halls until they emerged from the double doors into the
bright light outside in the courtyard filled with rose bushes and marble benches. "Stay by my side at all costs. We can't lose you to the front lines like the other kids. I fought for you. I was tortured by the Elysian government. Part of the reason was because I didn't want you to go die with the others. Eventually, they agreed if I helped them in other areas. Don't mess this up."
"Are you taking me to my daddy?" Nemo asked, holding tightly to Tobias's hand.
"Not yet." Tobias waved at a black helicopter that dropped lower to hover above the courtyard. "You're going to be all right. We need you for experiments and a certain . . . propaganda campaign that your looks automatically qualify you for. Have you ever been a model, Nemo?"
"Um . . . no?"
"Well, you are about to be the face of the Elysian war effort. Your art and your face will be all over the media, posters, and the internet. You're about to be a star, Nemo. Those good looks of your two fathers are about to pay off. You're only six, but we can make you the envy of every woman and man who sees you. Everyone is going to want you."
"Want me for what?" Nemo asked, absolutely lost in his innocence.
"Whatever you think they do. They're going to see a young, very attractive boy, forced to fight for his country. We will play up that pout of yours, enhance those pretty green eyes, and fix up your hair. People all across Darkshot, Elysia, Odyssia, and the moon colonies will see you and they will rally together to send resources and money to the government so we can end this war. You are the representation of these other children and their plight. You will give their families hope. This is your mission now. You are going to make a difference."
The humming of the helicopter cut off their conversation. Fierce wind blew through the rose bushes, scattering red petals across the now silent courtyard while the soldiers in exosuits carried bodies from the classrooms. A rope ladder unfurled from the door, beckoning them up into the bowls of the military helicopter. Nemo gasped when he was lifted up towards the top of the ladder by Tobias. He took the hint and grabbed on, his thin hands grasping the rungs and his loafers slipping as he gained a foothold on the coarse rope. Clenching his eyes closed against the whipping wind, Nemo climbed as quickly as he could until strong metal-clad hands took his arms and pulled him into the helicopter.
Nemo was immediately wrapped in a thick blanket, placed on the floor, and handed a bottle of water by a kind-eyed female pilot in a yellow flightsuit. He couldn't hear anything over the roar of the engines, so he could not ask her name, but he felt safe in her arms. The pilot held him to her warm chest as Tobias joined them and the helicopter sped away from the carnage of the school. One of the soldiers squatted down in front of him and held out the silver and green derringer pistol that Rav had given him. They must have gotten it from Viktor's house. He took it and held it as he unleashed his inner emotions. Nemo's trauma from the day bubbled to the surface, leaving him a sobbing mess for the pilots and soldiers on board to tend to. He was frightened and lonely, but all the faces around him were smiling, their eyes focused on him as their one last hope for ending this war.
Death of Amity
The Genesis Sequence
Book Seven
Chapter 1
Nemo's knees hit the floor as the man's hand pushed him down in front of him. His breathing grew rapid when the man's pants were unzipped and his hair was twisted from behind. Rope bound his wrists, scratching against his pale skin. He wrinkled his nose as his face was pushed closer to the man. He whimpered in the bright lights, looking straight at the cameras, but tears filled his eyes and he cried out in the silent room. "Stop it! I can't."
The man in the black priest robe whispered to him. "Get on the altar now. That's your cue."
He stood up and broke through the fake rope bindings before tossing them to the side. "I'm not doing it!"
"Cut! Cut!" Tobias placed his hands on his hips and tapped the purple leather of his long jacket. He leaned to the side behind the video camera to glare at the young blond boy on the set that resembled the sanctuary of an Elysian church. "Nemo, what's wrong now? We've been trying to shoot his scene for nearly an hour. What take is this?"
The bald director looked up from his computer, blowing a ring of vanilla cigar smoke as he spoke. "Thirty-two. Get the kid to listen or I'll have President Brightman come down here and make the boy listen. We're getting this shot one way or another."
Tobias stepped up onto the set and knelt in front of Nemo, who was dressed in only a pair of tattered short cotton pants. "Nemo, you have done brilliantly in every other shoot. What's wrong with this one?"
The boy wipe the makeup from his cheeks that made it look like he had dirt smeared under his mint green eyes and blood around his lips. His blond hair had been intentionally rustled and fake bruises spotted his bare chest. "I don't like it."
"Why don't you like it? You didn't have a problem with the battle scenes. You even liked wearing the miniature exosuit we made you. This is one of the absolute simplest scenes we have. Just kneel there in front of the priest then we cut to you being on the altar and you scream when the priest touches you."
"No." He crossed his arms defiantly. "He's scary."
The director impatiently shouted at them, slamming his clipboard against the consoles. "He's an actor. Tell him it's not real, Tobias. You are the kid's caretaker, so do your job and take care of his stubbornness. He's six years old. Just spank his butt and get him to work."
"I don't think that will solve anything. This is some very serious and mature subject matter for a child to be acting out. Can we take a really short break? Five minutes. Then he'll be ready to go. I promise."
"This is your last chance to make this happen, Desruisseaux. Everybody take five."
Tobias took Nemo's hand and led him over to the side where a table of refreshments was laid out for the staff. He opened a bottle of water and handed it to the boy. "Sit down and talk to me. What's the real reason you don't want to do this one? It's just pretend, Nemo."
He jumped up into a metal folding chair. "Please don't make me to this one. Please!"
"Drink your water." Tobias pushed the stringy bangs out of Nemo's eyes as the boy took a few sips of water. "Now, what part scares you so much? Nemo, have you been hurt by a grownup before?"
The boy traced his finger over the condensation on the cold plastic bottle.
"Oh my God. You have. I had heard things, but I did not know they were telling the truth. Listen to me, okay? I want you to get up there and close your eyes. Don't even think about it. Do this for me and I will take you to that restaurant you saw on the way here. The one with the swimming pool on the roof. I will buy you all the ice cream you can eat and let you spend the afternoon in the pool. We'll be done for the day."
Nemo looked around and patted his pockets. "My necklace. Where is it?"
"What does it look like?"
"It's a cross."
"A cross? Oh. Your crucifix? I wasn't aware you were religious." He stepped over to the dressing area and returned with the copper crucifix from the makeup vanity. "Here you are."
"Sorry. It's okay, right? It's not bad if I pray here?"
"No, of course not. Go ahead." Tobias waited patiently as Nemo held the crucifix to his lips and closed his eyes for a few seconds.
"Okay. I'll do it."
Tobias patted him on the shoulder. "That's my boy. Be brave, Nemo." He clapped his hands together and rejoined everyone behind the consoles. "All right, he's good to go."
"About damn time." The director put out his cigar on the ashtray then called the staff over. "Everyone in their places. Let's get those lights up and cameras fixed on the set. Someone put more dirt on the boy's face. Yes, yes. Good. Nemo, I need you on the altar. We'll start from there."
Tobias wrung his hands together, silently hoping everything would work out. Would that quick prayer be enough to turn this around and let Nemo overcome the horrific memories of his past?
Nemo climbed up onto the wooden altar below the iron chandelier and
the painting of a sanctuary as the backdrop. His pale green eyes locked onto Tobias, glossy with anxiety. He coughed when one of the makeup artists sprayed a generous cloud of hairspray onto his frazzled hair. Once the hairspray cleared the air, Nemo lay down on the altar and grasped the sides.
The director held up his hand as the ambient lights lowered and the spotlights shined brighter on the set. "And . . . action."
The actor in a black priest's robe emerged from the shadows. He stalked to the altar with a braided leather whip held threateningly high above his head as if he was poised to strike. The whip snapped through the air to crack on the altar, inches from Nemo's thigh.
Nemo screamed.
Not just a normal scream, but a scream that emanated from the deepest reaches of a human soul. The boy's knuckles turned white around the edges of the altar until the screaming stopped and his body went limp on the peeling wood.
The director stood from behind the consoles, clapping his hands. "That's what I'm talking about. We got it. Good job, Nemo. That boy could be an actor, not just an artist."
"I don't think he's acting." Tobias ran onto the set and pushed the actor away from the terrifyingly silent boy. He placed his fingers against Nemo's neck to feel the light and fluttering pulse. The boy's eyes were rolled back into his head. "Nemo, are you awake? Talk to me. He's unconscious. Get the paramedics in here."
No one moved.
"Someone call for help! What's wrong with you people?"
The director lit another cigar. "He's fine. Just reboot him or something. He's a robot. No one cares."
Tobias picked Nemo up in his arms. "I care. I will drive him to the hospital myself if I have to."
"Whatever. Get the paramedics so Mr. Desruisseaux stops throwing a fit."
Paramedics rushed into the room, taking Nemo from Tobias's arms and strapping him onto a stretcher.
Tobias watched, nearly in tears, as they carried him out the back door and into the ambulance. He quickly gathered his bag and Nemo's belongings before heading to the door as well. He stopped when he heard the director call out to him.
The Genesis Sequence Books 6-10 Page 14