“We’ll start with something simple and work our way up. Pray you crack under the physical pain,” he said, giving Roman a pitying look.
“Why?” Roman breathed, real worry behind his eyes now.
“Because we don’t want to have to break you psychologically. We can and will, but we prefer to keep her undamaged. I think you can guess what we could do to break you that way, yes?” His words took a moment for me to register. I had never before been threatened in such a moderate tone, but when they did register my face swung from Eads to Roman.
I had never seen Roman panic, not when he held off assassins for me, not when we made the terrifying drop off the waterfall, not even when he was first assigned to be my guard and his future dangled in the air lock, but the look on his face now seared me. What I saw was true terror.
What are they talking about? I demanded.
If they touch you, Vera - if they torture you - I really will break.
They won’t do that, they need me intact. Not that I cared. It was him I was worried about, but I didn’t want him worrying about me.
There are things they could do to you that would leave you physically intact, Vera.
His tone sounded ominous. I felt my breath coming faster.
Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.
There was no way he could. Not with what they were planning. Eads nodded to Wehr who started to tap on the touch screen. When they started, Roman’s screams ripped through me like a buzz saw. I screamed in response, straining at the guard who held me. Please, not Roman! Not Roman!
Eventually the screams died down, and Roman’s head lolled to the side. They were done with electric jolts. They were planning something else. I thought he was unconscious, but his thoughts cut through mine.
Hurts. Hurts so much.
Come into my head, Roman, escape the pain. You’re always in here anyways, listening to thoughts you shouldn’t be able to hear. If you could just break the barrier and come in here with me, then maybe you could avoid all of the pain out there. Please.
I can’t Vera. I have to let them do this. I have to let them break me, or they will break you, too.
They’re going to take over my brain anyhow and make me do what they say. It doesn’t matter. You matter to me Roman. Please, I need you to stay with me, I was pleading.
I can’t. What they’d do to break me would be so much worse. I have to let them drive me mad.
I had been ignoring them, with my focus on Roman, but a harsh smell pulled my attention towards the doctor and the guards.
One of the guards had ripped the leg of Roman’s pants up to the waist. The other two had brought something from outside the door. It looked like a heating console with an iron on it. It was just a basic clothes iron. What could they possibly use that for? You know exactly what they could do, I thought, and a wave of nausea washed over me.
“I’m sorry my boy,” Eads said, and then he scooped up the searing iron and rammed it against Roman’s exposed thigh. Our screams joined in pain and fury and all at once I felt him inside my head.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, he said from inside my own consciousness. I meant to be stronger.
My first reaction was shock. In my panic I had offered this to him, but was he really inside my head with me, right now? I felt the same, I couldn’t tell he was there, except for a tiny flicker feeling and his words I would never have known.
Is that you? I marveled.
I…I can go back. I can.
No! They can’t do this to you! They can’t.
They are. I’m so sorry. I felt him leave again into his own head. They were heating the iron again.
I had to do something. I had to fight them. I felt the Matsumoto in me fighting against it, but I had to save him.
You can’t fight them, Roman said, as if he could read my thoughts. Maybe he could.
I have to. I’m not even tied up.
No, I mean you can’t. I saw you when we found you. Defensive wounds only. You can’t fight, and even if you could you don’t know how to.
They were back again. Again the iron was pushed against his already seared flesh. The bacon smell of searing flesh filled the air and I choked out a sobbing scream to join Roman’s hoarse cry. He had fled back into the sanity of my head again.
Roman, Roman, please! Stay here, don’t go back.
I have to go back. For you. Even mentally he sounded raw.
Wait!
If I wait it will only make it worse.
His thoughts suddenly stopped coming to me and I realized he was back in his body and he had passed out from the pain.
“You’ll have to wake him, Doctor,” Eads was saying, “We only have twelve hours.”
“Leave him alone, please!” I begged, “Please!” Tears poured down my face and I struggled in vain against the man holding me. No one paid me any attention, but my wails went on. “Please, please! Oh please, I’ll do anything.”
“That’s what you say now,” Eads said wearily, rubbing both palms over his face. “You’ll change your tune if we stop.”
The doctor snapped a capsule under Roman’s nose to wake him.
He looked horrible, sweat was pouring out across his pale forehead. His leg was charred and red like smoked meat and I thought I saw a glimmer of bone through the flesh. If they pushed that iron to his flesh one more time there would be more.
I felt like I was shattered into a million pieces. I would do anything to save him. I would happily take his place. I would betray my Empire. I would kill again. Anything.
“Please, please,” I sobbed, and with a flash he was conscious again.
A groan slipped through his lips before he could stop it.
Roman!
Vera, my Vera. He seemed barely aware of what he was saying.
Please Roman, you have to listen to me! I begged. I felt like I did that day in the Red Room with the Emperor. I had no idea how to get us out of this, but I had to somehow. A flash of inspiration hit me and I was saying it before I even thought it through. Listen, I have an idea! We’ve done things that no two people have done. I mean, you are in my head…actually here. I think…I think if I went into your head instead of you, that maybe you could take over this body of mine. If you could take over me you could fight to free us, couldn’t you?
That’s sick, he said.
But could it work? I insisted. I could see they were readying the iron again.
Maybe…
Then you have to!
He was screaming again and again the horrible smell of burning flesh filled the air, and I felt his consciousness flee back into my brain.
This was going to be horrible. It was going to be pain like I’d never imagined. I held my broken hand closer, terrified but determined, and then I pushed at our mental channel with all my strength and with what felt like a leap I entered his head.
I didn’t have time to be surprised or to think about it. The pain was so severe that I mentally recoiled and it was all I could do to make myself stay. I screamed with his voice, joining him in a way no human ever had before. They removed the iron then and I felt my head fall forward. I had to hold out and cling to consciousness. If I fainted now it might sever our links and snap us both back…or worse… no one had ever done this before. Anything could happen.
I pulled my head up searching for sight of my body through the haze of Roman’s red vision, gasping and panting with the agony of every breath. Strange, a bit of Roman must have still been in this body, because I was able to pick myself out immediately. I was so tiny and vulnerable between the guards, my large almond eyes rimmed with red and tears trailing down my cheeks. I looked fragile physically, but on my face was an expression I’d never seen there before. Violence and vengeance roared within.
The Vera out there clenched her broken fist and hit the guard in the kidney, sweeping around with a foot to trip him up and seize his gun in a fluid movement. She looked like a tiny angel of death, long hair and flechettes flying as she shot two of
the other guards.
She flew behind an exam table, dodging the flechettes of the guard who was behind me.
“Don’t shoot her!” Eads yelled.
She was so graceful . That must be Roman affecting my body. I was never that graceful. She fired again, precisely and with a look of great concentration, and the firing stopped. The fourth guard went down.
The doctor screamed in a high hysterical register. He had burned his hands in the chaos and the iron was on the ground beside him. I wanted to scream, too, the intensity of the pain had not let up, but I gripped my lips together determined not to distract the avenger from her work. She was reborn. No longer was Vera simply the Emperor’s Voice. She was his Hand. I almost laughed, my pain must be making me hallucinate. She seemed a million miles tall and glowing with light. Maybe I was going insane just like they wanted. Or was that someone else?
Eads was striding forward. Shoot him, shoot him! I mentally urged her. Eads was unarmed, what was he thinking? Apparently he was better at counting than I was. I watched as her finger squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. Out of ammo.
I pulled at my bonds trying to rush to the other Vera’s aid. She looked too small in my body. What could she do against Eads? Pulling and struggling only made the agonizing pain worse. I hissed and moaned simultaneously, freezing in place to avoid further damage to my ruined thigh.
Eads was charging Vera. She swung the automatic rifle around, so she was holding the barrel and drilled him in the breastbone with the butt of the gun. He choked, grasping at his chest. The breath was knocked out of him. She followed it up with a flurry of blows to his head and gut. He fell to the floor, gasping and choking, and she flew past, swift and graceful as a dancer, but streaked in blood.
I felt her pull at the binds that held me and then with a snap I was back in my own head, working my own fingers to free Roman, tears blurring my eyes. He had a strained half-smile on his face and as his bonds loosened he slumped across my chest. I cradled his head against me, my tears soaking into his hair.
“It’s ok, you’ll be ok. I’ll protect you,” I crooned, holding him gently. He felt hot, and he was laughing hoarsely. I didn’t blame him. I remembered what it was like in that hallucination-inducing pain.
A groan from beside me reminded me it wasn’t over.
I called the ship with my implant, trying to keep the panic from my voice, “Send the team immediately. Make sure there’s a medic.”
Everyone but Dr. Wehr was still down so we would be ok until help arrived. The doctor was sitting there with shock painted across his face looking like the lab coat he wore everyday had attacked him. Which I suppose it had in a way.
“You can’t,” he kept repeating. “All the studies said it was psychologically impossible. You just can’t”
I didn’t. But Roman did. I wondered if it really was sick, like he said. But I didn’t regret it. I just wanted him to be ok.
“Roman,” I said, gently stroking his hair, “hold on, they’ll be here soon.”
THE EX-PACIFIST: 39
I HELD HIM CLUTCHED TO my chest listening to the breath rasp through his lungs, desperately listening to his heart beat. Would he be ok? How much can a human body take before it just shuts down? A distant clanking and clattering suggested a boarding action. No doubt the Imperial Marines had arrived and with them the medics.
“Hold on Roman, just hold on,” I whispered, urgently. I knew he couldn’t hear me, the agony had pushed his brain past the threshold of consciousness, but I couldn’t help myself. We were both sprawled across the floor. If any one of Roman’s opponents had been able to move there would have been nothing I could do to stop them, but they were as motionless as he was.
Only the doctor was still conscious and he was wailing and calling in a bubbling voice for someone named Hans as blood ran down his face. He seemed unaware of where he was. I refused to offer him comfort.
It seemed to take forever for the Marines to reach us, but eventually the doors swished open and they were filing into the room, flechette guns in the ready position and fanning out to surround Roman and me.
“Room secure,” one of them barked out. A second figure went down on one knee beside me, yanking off his helmet with its distorting face mask. It was Lieutenant Miro Dale.
“Ambassador?” he asked, concern in his eyes. No wonder he was concerned. To his eyes I was a tiny woman soaked in blood, clutching a dying man and surrounded by fallen enemies. It was like something out of a horror novel. For all he knew, I could be deranged, or worse, demon possessed!
That deserved a mental laugh – after all, I had been possessed, though more by an angel than a demon. I steadied myself before I spoke, trying my best to sound in control and authoritative.
“Lieutenant Dale, your arrival is fortuitous.”
A tiny smile hovered in the corner of his mouth, “This starcraft is secured, Ambassador.”
“Medics?” I asked.
“On their way,” he said. “What would you like done with him?” He motioned towards Eads. He was still motionless on the floor. His expression made his preference clear. Who would have thought two weeks ago that he’d gladly kill for me?
“He comes with us,” I said, taking a deep breath and gently shifting Roman in my arms to get a better grip. “The rest can be kept here. Give them the medical attention they need, put them in the brig and ask Captain Travers to send a prize crew over.”
“Already done. Capricornia is requesting that we leave the prisoners in their custody.”
“Give them all of them except for Eads Mc Isaac. He comes with us. The Emperor will want to see him in person.”
Lieutenant Dale nodded and rose again, just as the medics came rushing in. Two of them squatted beside me, laying out their equipment, while a third brushed light hands over Roman, checking for a pulse, looking at his eyes, examining his wounds. They were babbling in medic-speak.
“How long ago did this happen?” one finally asked me.
“Minutes,” I said numbly, my eyes swelling with tears. Would he be ok? He’d risked so much to protect me.
“He’s in critical condition. Can you give us more space please?” The last comment was directed at the ring of guards around us. They loosened their ring slightly, but were still tensed. It was almost comical. Mere minutes ago my life and sanity were in danger, with only a tortured guardian as protector against my enemies. Now, among friends, I had a full complement of guards.
“Pulse is erratic, let’s get him on the stretcher,” one of the others said. They passed a light sheet under him and then activated the control screen on the side. The stretcher expanded and flexed slowly, so as not to disturb its contents, and then rose into a hover position a meter from the ground. The medics gathered around it, alternating between concerned looks and running diagnostic tools over him.
“We need to get him to the Grey Pelican. Now!” the first medic said.
Lieutenant Dale gave a nod and I saw a portion of the guard detach to lead the way for the medical team. Dale lent me a hand and I scrambled to my feet.
“Do you have this situation in hand,” I asked him gravely.
“The ship is fully secure, Ambassador. You are the only loose end we are trying to tie up.”
“My cousin?”
“Safe aboard the Grey Pelican.”
“Her guardian?”
He shook his head, “No sign of her guardian, ma’am,” he cleared his throat. “One of the prisoners indicated that she had been executed some time back.”
I sighed. If they could torture Roman to force me to do what they wanted, what would keep them from killing Adrianna? I felt a moment’s remorse. I hadn’t known her well, but she was one of ours and she hadn’t deserved to die here.
I looked around the room. The marines had already removed all of the guards, Dr. Wehr, and the fallen Overseer. We really were the last.
“Then I’ll leave it to you, Lieutenant,” I said, forcing a smile.
Turning,
I stumbled after the stretcher determined not to let Roman out of my sight. I was not surprised when a string of marines peeled off to surround me. Second Lieutenant Miro Dale was not taking any chances.
The shuttle ride back to the ship seemed to take far too long, but it was nothing compared to waiting outside the Grey Pelican’s medical bay. I was still there when we reached Capricornian orbit. The room outside the medical bay was designed for utility more than comfort. There were two mid-back poly armchairs and a tiny table in what was more of a corridor than an actual room. After so long sitting in one of the chairs I could tell it had not been designed for long-term use.
I had used my time well. A brief meeting with Captain Travers ensured that everything was prepared for the Emperor’s arrival. We took too long on our mission, and his fleet was already inbound with an eta of forty-eight hours. That was two days later than he had threatened me with, but still much too close for comfort. We were to wait in orbit here for his decision.
The prisoners – all but Eads- had been returned for judgment to Capricornia, where we made a brief stop and picked up Ian. If he was going to remain as Overseer he would need to stand before the Emperor, and Nigel’s orders had been to keep him aboard the Grey Pelican until his arrival. Considering his shaky standing with the council, the sooner that happened the better it would be for him. He was currently situated in one of the guest suites. Ironically, his father was just one deck below in the secure brig quarters that Captain Travers had generously given him. Generous, because what he really deserved was an airlock. He would stand before the Emperor, too. In his case it would be for judgment.
I sighed and put my head in my good hand. The other one had been re-set by the medics. We’d accomplished our mission. Denise had been rescued, the mystery on Capricornia had been solved, and all that was waiting was for the Emperor’s decision on what to do with the inhabitants and the ‘medical facilities’ that Eads had left behind. I should feel better about everything, but with Roman’s life still hanging in the balance, I could hardly breathe, never mind celebrate.
I took one break from the corridor to visit Denise. The medical staff hovered just outside my view. They were very worried that her memory didn’t seem to be coming back
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