The Deadly Sun

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The Deadly Sun Page 15

by H. J. Lawson

Frances carries on speaking as if the altercation between Madam Uri and me hadn’t happened. There is a joyous tone to her voice, a stark contrast to Madam Uri’s thunderous face as she towers next to her with her arms firmly crossed. Frances is as round as she is tall. Her white uniform dress looks like it’s fighting its own battle. She has neat, perfect pink blush circles on her cheek.

  “Ladies, tonight is a very special night in Purenet. The Chancellor and dignitaries of Purenet will be having a wonderful event where they get to select their Host.” She smiles, rubbing her hands together.

  The smile drips off her face, like a painting melting, as she says, “Ladies, let’s try to appear excited.” A fresh smile is plastered onto her face.

  We all smile back; none of us have forgotten our Cueva manners.

  Frances rubs her hands together. “That’s better. Adohnes and his team will have you all looking radiant for the Chancellor. Follow me, ladies, and let the fun begin...”

  Chapter Ten

  Dax

  Of all nights, I have to be back for Selection Night!

  Even before I knew the truth, I hated these nights. All the wealthy people of Purenet came, the fake friends of my family, those that feared them more than liked them. They would come to the Palace for the special ceremony. The event happened once a year, and each time was always grander than the last.

  As I stand in the whiter-than-white room … the room I grew up in … I stare at myself in my military uniform that I always have to wear for these types of events. My life has been stolen from me once again.

  How am I going to get Skylier, Ayah, and my friends—my real family—away from here? I’m only one man.

  Bang … bang thuds on the door.

  “Come in,” I say sternly, as I button up the last gold button on my white jacket.

  “The Chancellor would like you to come down to the great hall,” a voice calls. It’s Gavyn, one of the few Purenet guards I feel I can trust. He’s worked in the palace since I was a child. For many years he was my personal guard, and he trained me in self-defense and weapons. He’s originally from Cueva, and in his younger days he won the Sanction Games. Today he looks older … cracks like the dry desert cover his face.

  “It’s nice to have you home,” he says, as I walk toward him.

  “Gavyn, my old friend. It's good to see you.” I pat him on the shoulder, just as my father did with me. But Gavyn feels more like a real father to me than my own ever has.

  Gavyn pulls me toward him. “I didn’t know what had happened until it was too late,” he says, quickly letting go of me before anyone can see. A sense of relief passes through me to know that Gavyn wasn’t aware of what was happening.

  “We were told that you went to fight with the soldiers, but I knew that was a lie … you would’ve told me.”

  I nod back at him, aware that he’s not finished talking.

  “Then a few weeks after you left, Xander was arguing with your father and he said that he would banish Xander like he did you. They haven’t stopped arguing since you left.” Gavyn stops and lowers his head, as though he’s worried he has said too much.

  “Gavyn, please, you don’t have to bow your head to me. We are friends,” I tell him.

  “Thank you, Dax,” he smiles fondly.

  “Do you know where they are holding the Grounders?” I whisper, leaning over to him.

  Gavyn freezes, then looks up and down the marble corridors. “I know where they are; things have changed a lot since you left. Your father has built a new lab … they are holding the prisoners in there.”

  “Are they alive?” I don’t want him to answer, but I have to know.

  Gavyn nods. “For now. We have to go, before they send anyone else to come for you.”

  “I agree.”

  We stride down the corridors together, and I turn to him. “I need your help, Gavyn.”

  “Anything you need I will do for you,” he says firmly, and I know he means it.

  One of the doors beside us opens—it's the Bazi quarters. They will be at the ceremony today. Some will be up for selection if my parents are bored with them.

  They all stare at me before lowering their heads. All except one—the girl who was in my father’s room. Only now she’s clothed.

  “Father is going to banish her … he is sending her to her death,” I inform Gavyn, as we walk past their quarters. He shakes his head.

  “He has banished many of them since you left. It’s become a game for your father and brother.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

  “They place bids on who will survive the longest in the desert.”

  “What are they bidding for?”

  “Who gets the first picks from the new Bazi....”

  Just the thought of them using other people’s lives in their sick games makes me want to kill them both. They wouldn’t survive the night out there on their own.

  “They are animals,” I mutter.

  As we approach the ballroom, I can hear the band playing.

  “Please, can you find out what they are doing to the Grounders, and how long they have to live?” I ask Gavyn.

  “It will be my honor to help you,” he says, as he steps aside and stands in front of the door. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I nervously smile.

  “I will come by your room tonight. Stay safe,” he says, as waves his hand in front of the monitor.

  The door opens to reveal the party underway. The sound is overwhelming, and such a stark contrast to the way the Grounders live in peace.

  Chapter Eleven

  Skylier

  The girl looking back at me in the mirrored wall looks like me, except the makeup Adohnes layered on my face is white like my hair. It’s meant to make me look pure, all elements of color drained away from me. I feel like a ghost, a lost spirit trapped inside a body I no longer own. The Sanction owns me now.

  Adohnes has been delicate and kind to me since the first time I met him when the guards brought me to the compound. He had whispered that everyone was nice here, and as long as I followed the rules, I had nothing to worry about. I wish it were that simple. I can feel Madam Uri’s eyes burning into me. I would give up all my powers for the chance to change everything that has happened.

  A soft hand touches my shoulder before resting on it, startling me from my daydream. “You are ready,” Adohnes says. That is far from the truth. I will never be ready.

  I glance around the preparations room. Mirrors line the walls as if we are already on display.

  Adohnes and his team have been working on the girls for the last few hours, getting us ready to be selected by the parents we will be Host for. The other girls don’t have the same pale skin as me; they are naturally tan. But with Adohnes and his team’s work, you would have never guessed their skin tone wasn’t natural. Their skin now matches their hair, just like mine.

  Adohnes taught us how to walk. He told us to glide to the platform in the middle of the viewing room. Once on the platform, we are to delicately turn, giving the buyers full view of the goods they will be buying: us.

  We will not be able to see them; they are sitting behind two-way mirrors. Then once our bodies are ready, we will be injected and the Hosting will begin.

  The feel of an icy finger trails down my spine and creeps into my flesh, gripping me tightly and making me gasp. Madam Uri’s eyes of darkness burn into me through her reflections in the mirrors. Everywhere I look I can see her.

  “I can’t do this,” the words pour from my mouth before I can stop them.

  No one questions my words. I look at the mirror in front of me and can see why. Madam Uri’s attention is now focused on the doorway. The Bazis have entered the room. They are a stark contrast to our pure, innocent, untouched look with their naked, oily flesh shimmering in the lights, making you want to touch them. White satin strips cling over the females’ breasts, revealing the full shapes. The males’ chests are naked and smooth. Anoth
er piece of satin covers their genital areas, but only just. There is a gold chain at the hip connecting the front and back pieces of satin; they may as well be naked. I can feel my cheeks prickle with warmth as I watch them parade their bodies with pride and grace.

  There is nowhere else to look; their bodies reflect in the mirrors. In the mirrors it looks as if there is a magical dusk all around us, in contrast to their shimmering bodies.

  There is a jingle as they walk into the room as their golden jewels click together. They ooze confidence as they demand the attention of the room, and radiate a warm glow when we give them it.

  The group of Bazis look older than us. They smile smugly, clicking their gold goblets together before downing the contents.

  My fellow Hosts blush at the sight of them, even though it’s only been a couple of days since the decisions to become a Host were made. It’s as if this has really been our path since birth: The shy girls choose to become a Host and the outgoing become Bazi. Makes sense, really.

  As the Bazis fill the once-silent room with their bodies and excited voices, a second, way less confident group follows our old classmates.

  Their look is very different to the older group. There is a glazed, numb look to their eyes. Like the girl in the Chancellor’s labs, except they are able to move. They still don’t look willing in their movement, more as if they have been programed.

  “Adohnes,” an older male says bitterly, as if his name is repulsive in his mouth.

  “A pleasure to see you, Luther, as always,” Adohnes says gracefully. Luther is all muscle and oil. He shimmers like the other Bazi, but his skin is pulled tightly across his face so that not a single wrinkle appears, as if he has a permanent mask on his face that’s hiding his true emotions, his true self, unlike Frances’s face, which is full of character and emotions. He looks upon the Bazi with sadness, and none of the infectious pride and joy when he looks at us.

  Luther reaches out his golden goblet. “Sloft,” he yells, and a boy comes running over to him, instantly filling it with a rich red wine.

  All of the Bazis are drunk or high on drugs. Part of me wants to take some of the wine, remembering the warmth and ease it brought me when Dax gave me some to taste. Unfortunately, I don’t think that will be a good idea; I need to keep a clear mind. Also, it’s not an option. None of the Hosts have been offered any of the wine. I guess the potent liquid doesn’t classify as pure.

  “New cattle,” Luther says, looking at us.

  Adohnes laughs. “New cattle? I would have thought after sixteen years you would have found a new name for the saviors of Purenet.”

  “Ha, the saviors of Purenet! Is that what you tell them?” he mocks.

  Adohnes steps forward towards Luther. They are both the same height, but Adohnes has a presence about him that demands respect. “I tell them the truth, and do not feed them lies,” he says, looking down at the alcohol-filled goblet.

  A whisper comes from the corner of the room, distracting Luther. It’s a sobbing girl. Luther looks furiously at the boy he called “Sloft.”

  “Sloft, you have one job,” he spits as he walks towards the distressed girl.

  Luther places his hand under the sobbing girl’s head, bringing her to his eye level. Her eyes are filled with fear. She’s one of the older girls, with a beautiful golden tattoo around her arm that shimmers in the light.

  The drugged glaze is missing from her fearful eyes, replaced with the warmth of her brown eyes. She nods as Luther speaks to her, and then puts the goblet to her lips and she downs the contents. Then Sloft refills her goblet before she has a chance to refuse. She drinks it in one gulp without questions. When she lowers her golden goblet, darkness fills her eyes now.

  Luther leans forward, kisses her on her lips, then leaves to attend to the other Bazis. She stands in the room motionless as if not aware of all of the other people in the room—a beautiful statue frozen in time, locked in a world of sorrow.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dax

  “Dax!” Mother yells out from the crowd at the same moment the music stops. The whole room turns and stares at me.

  Many look confused; clearly they thought I wouldn’t survive out there. I can feel the crowd closing in on me … they are all dying to find out what I’ve seen and where I’ve been.

  None of them have been outside the boundaries of the Sanction. Although many have visited the other Sanctions, it’s been within the safety of the shuttles, hidden away from what is really going on. To be honest, they don’t care and don’t really want to know what is happening. They are content with the life they lead with their Bazi and Hosts.

  I can see the greed on their faces, eager for stories of blood and torture.

  “Excuse me,” Mother says firmly, as she walks through the crowd.

  “Mother…” I smile at her fondly. Father and Xander walk behind her, talking to each other.

  “Well, look at this family, reunited again.” Xander smirks at me as he pats me on my shoulder.

  “I can’t believe Father let you live … he’s getting weak in his old age. If I were Chancellor, you would be punished with your friend,” Xander’s voice rings through my mind.

  “Well, you are not Chancellor, are you?” I retort.

  “Not yet….”

  Xander takes his hand blade from his belt. ‘Ching … ching,’ rings out from the glass as he taps it.

  The crowd quiets as they wait for Xander to speak. “Everyone, my brother is home. Let’s give Dax a round of applause.”

  The loud clapping sound bounces off the ballroom walls.

  I smile politely over to Xander. “You always were a great actor.”

  “Let’s see how good you are,” he replies.

  “Dax, I know everyone would like to hear all about your adventures. Please share with us—” Xander raises his hand toward me and waves it, indicating for me to speak.

  “Xander, you idiot!”

  “Please do,” Mother encourages me.

  “Yes … yes, tell us,” mumbles the eager crowd.

  I can feel my flesh changing color.

  “Don’t be shy … you are with family.” Xander laughs as he takes a sip of his wine.

  “Xander! No more!” Father’s voice sounds though our minds. Xander just smiles in response.

  “Dax, don’t speak,” Father adds to me.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we will have plenty of time to hear Dax’s adventures later. It is now time for this evening’s main event … Selections.” Everyone’s eyes light up with excitement. “Time to move to the Selection room.”

  With that the crowd disappears, hurrying to get the best seats.

  *****

  As we enter the hallways around the Selection room, I can hear the buzz of excitement as the wealthy people of Purenet enter their private viewing rooms. These people spent more than the normal person makes in a year, just to be allowed in here.

  Only the finest Bazi and Hosts will be in the Selection room. These are the ones who will receive the highest price. Father’s viewing room is first, with Xander’s and mine on either side.

  Each room is identical, with oversized black chairs angled toward the shaded window facing the Selection room. This is where the Bazi and Hosts will parade their bodies, in the hopes that the highest bidder will buy them.

  Father’s door closes behind Mother, and Shristi enters Xander’s room, leaving me and Xander in the hallway.

  "Are you bidding today?" Xander asks.

  "No," I reply, shaking my head as the servant opens my door.

  "Not even on your sister?"

  "You put her up for Selection?" I stalk toward him, clenching my fists together.

  "Yeah," Xander laughs as he enters his room. "Happy bidding, little brother," he says as the door closes behind him. I want to follow him in, but I know that will not help.

  I scan my hand over the monitor and quickly enter my room. Then I grab a glass of red wine and gulp it down as I take a seat.

&
nbsp; The music quiets and the lights dim, filling the room with a cold chill. The Selection is about to begin.

  Next to my seat is a flat screen where I can see what the current bid is, and I can make my offer. Only my father can overrule any bids, because all the people are his and they have to obey him.

  Wait ... with Xander's and Father’s games, I wonder if the rules have changed.

  I take another gulp of wine, hoping it will clear my mind. I forgot how good it tastes. The rich aroma drifts up my nose. Its tastes like the fresh fruits from the Grounders’ community.

  From the darkness, my servant steps out with another bottle of wine and refills my glass before retreating. I almost didn't notice him; their job is to blend in as though they aren't here … as if they are nothing.

  "Come out of the darkness," I order.

  A man steps forward with a worried look on his face.

  "Please pass me the bottle," I say holding out my hand.

  "Sir?"

  I wave my fingers, and he places it in my grasp.

  "Please wait outside." It's bad enough that I have to watch this. The man disappears again, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  The black glass window flicks off, turning to see-through glass. Giving me a view of the selection room with its larger glass dome revealing the dark night and the bright stars.

  In the middle of the room is a white platform, where the Selections will stand.

  There are ten viewing rooms, all occupied with eager buyers. They don't have to wait very long.

  The door opens and the first Selection steps into the room. The music changes.

  The show is about to begin.

  Instantly I know she is a Bazi, as she is wearing only white satin garments covering her private areas, with everything else on show.

  She flirtatiously walks toward the platform with her fake white hair bouncing with each step.

  As she stands on the platform, she twirls around, and then looks toward the windows while dragging her tongue across the bottom of her lip with a sexy, seductive look. This girl doesn't know who will win her, and she looks as though she doesn't care.

 

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