The woman spent the next couple of minutes taking stock of her situation. She was lying on a table, her naked back pressed against cold metal. Her ankles and wrists were pinioned in tight manacles that were attached to the table. There didn’t appear to be any way to escape this situation, but Watcher had taught her that most cages had a way out, if one thought and searched. Next she assessed her internal systems through her implant. There was no permanent damage to her body. The neurons in her brain were knitting well, and the last effects of the concussions would be gone in an hour or so. The bionanites were also hard at work on her ribs, and thankfully nothing had been displaced to the point where reknitting the bones would cause any kind of temporary deformity that might affect her ability to move.
And she had mechanonanites back in her system, rebuilt by the bionanites. Some were at work repairing her central implants, which would be back to full functionality within the hour. Others were working hard to rehabilitate all the nanites that had been knocked flat by the EMP that had been played over her body on the planet. With a thought she sent a command from the working parts of her implants to those nanites to manufacture new brothers, then to perform a covert mission. That’s as much as I can do, she thought, saying the calming mantra again in her mind. Have to see if the little guys can actually do what I want them to do. She mentally smiled at that thought, remembering how when she had first come aboard the Donut the thought of nanoscale robots crawling around in her brain and body horrified her. Now she didn’t know how she would get by without the little guys.
“So this is the woman who has given us so much trouble,” said a voice that sounded familiar, if only from vids she had watched.
“And she’s awake,” said another, rougher voice. “Aren’t you, you bitch? You can’t fool us, so you might as well open your eyes.”
Pandora really didn’t want to open her eyes. She knew she possessed courage beyond that of most people. Hell, you had to be brave to go into space in her time, where so many things could kill. She knew she was facing torture here, whether from actual physical damage or from nerve induction. Pain was not something she looked forward to. But it’s not going to just go away because I keep my eyes shut. So she opened them to look on an older man in a black uniform, starbursts on his collar, glaring down at her with a frown on his face. Standing next to him was a leering dwarf of a man in black robes, the closed fist symbol of the Church of Humanity on his breast.
“Miklas Gerasi, I assume,” said Pandi in her best soft drawl.
“You know me?” asked the man, curiosity in his voice.
“Only from vids of your conversations with Watcher,” said the woman, letting a smile creep over her face. “He expressed a much greater interest in meeting with you one day. I am sure his interest will be even greater once he learns what you’ve done with me.”
“I am thinking that he might give us what he wants in return for his whore,” said the Admiral, a slight cruel smile on his lips.
“Then you don’t know the man very well,” said Pandi, knowing that she spoke the truth. “He is more the avenging type than the negotiator.” And Watcher would do anything he could do to get her back, except selling out his station.
And the cruel smile left the man’s lips, to be replaced by another frown. He turned to the dwarf and nodded. The dwarf whispered into a link and the door behind him opened, to admit more robed men pushing a cart with all kinds of evil looking devices on it.
* * *
Miklas Gerasi looked down at the naked form of the woman on the table and could understand why some of his Marines had lusted after her. She’s beautiful, he thought, even banged and bruised up as she is. He felt a twinge of guilt thinking lustful thoughts about this unclean woman, while his wife and children waited for him back in the home system. But he was after all a man, and so expected to respond to his God given feelings. If the priests of the Inquisition didn’t have to make too much of a mess here he might still be tempted to force himself upon her. But only if she is still restrained, he thought. No use letting her have a shot at taking his life, something, from what he had heard, she was all too capable of.
He thought back to the report he had received about what she had done to those men tasked with getting her to the landing field. Three were seriously injured. The five who weren’t were undergoing the tender ministrations of other inquisitors, something the other three would also enjoy when they got of sick bay.
“If he will not negotiate for you, maybe you will,” he told the woman, still angry at the mention of the Abomination who controlled the station that should be his people’s by right of heritage. The old Empire was a human organization, even if they did kowtow to the aliens on too many occasions. And his was the mightiest of the rising human kingdoms in this part of the Galaxy.
“And just what do you want out of me,” said the woman in that lilting tone that fascinated Gerasi.
The woman out of time, he thought, his eyes roaming her form. Back from when before we left the home system, and people still fought people. Primitives all, thought the Admiral, not even recognizing that his Nation was fighting another human power at this time. But she had learned the secrets of the station from the Abomination, and now saw his people as the primitives. And sided with the kingdom they were at war with. “We want the secrets of the station,” he said, looking into her eyes. “We want to know what the code is to get on the station, past its defenses. And we want access to the computer that controls the station, so we can get the tech we deserve.”
“You fuckers don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” said the woman, a sneer on her lips even as her eyes showed her fear. “You don’t deserve nothing on that station, and Watcher sure isn’t going to give it to you.”
“We want that code, and you will give it to us,” said the Admiral, certainty in his voice. “We can keep you alive as long as needed, while you feel pain like never before.”
“Wanna bet,” said the woman, her eyes still wide, but her lips curving into a smile.
“Do whatever needs to be done,” said the Admiral, looking over at the dwarfish Priest. “But get us the information that we need.”
“Yes, my Lord,” said the man, a cruel smile on his face. The man nodded and the other priests wheeled the instruments over.
Gerasi glared at the woman for a moment, then turned and walked from the room. Much as he wanted to see the bitch punished, he still did not have the stomach to watch an actual interrogation. Once was enough, as far as he was concerned.
* * *
Pandora watched the Admiral leave the chamber, then all of her attention was fixed on the robed men gathered around the table, looking down at her with cold, predatory eyes. She glanced over at the instruments and felt an involuntary shudder run down her body. She had told the truth when she challenged the Admiral on what kind of torture she had endured. The pain induction field that Vengeance had subjected her to on the Donut was the most excruciating agony imaginable. But these men would be subjecting her to an extended session of torture, and she really didn’t know how long she could hold out under such.
“This will not be pleasant,” said the dwarf, a broad smile on his face. “For you, that is. For us it will be most enjoyable.”
Pandi shuddered again, and she knew these men could smell the fear on her. She closed her eyes and said a calming mantra, at the same time sending an order through her implants, hoping that maybe the nanites could close down some of her pain pathways. In theory she knew that they could. In practice? She just didn’t know.
“None of that,” said the dwarf, touching her left breast with something cold and hard. The cold turned instantly to super-cold, burning the tender flesh of the breast.
Pandi opened her eyes and bit back a scream, looking at the burn on her flesh. The Inquisitor kept the object in place for a moment, letting the severe cold burn deeper.
“You’re a strong one,” said the dwarf, removing the torture device. “It does not matter. Nothing
matters in the end. You will tell us what we want.”
“And what the hell do you want?” asked Pandi through clenched teeth.
“Your codes for the Donut,” said the man, looking at the cold burn with a satisfied smirk.
“There ain’t no damned codes,” said Pandi, spitting out each word as she tried to keep the scream from coming. The pain was abating a bit, and she was sure her nanites were doing yeoman’s work damping the nerves. “We have to transmit a signal through our implants that lets it recognize an authorized user. But nothing as simple as codes.”
“Then that is what we want,” said the dwarf, picking up an air syringe from his cart. “If it can tell our computer what to transmit, then that is what we want.”
The dwarf put the syringe against Pandora’s neck and injected the contents into her carotid artery. “Just a mixture of nanites and drugs to help you, uh, cooperate with the process.”
Pandora grimaced as she felt the contents of the syringe pushed into her artery. You’re not going to get what you expect, she thought, wondering how she should make her face appear to fool them into thinking the concoction they had injected was working. They obviously thought all of her nanite defenses were gone, destroyed by the men on the planet who had run the EMP over her.
The woman linked into her implant, stopping herself from sighing in relief as she saw that it was now fully functional. With a command she set the nanites in her brain to a plan that would keep her mind her own.
Bionanites were not really nanoscale organisms. They were slightly larger, in the realm of viruses, which still made them pretty damned small. They now targeted the intruder nanites, like bears attacking dogs, ingesting them and ripping them apart. The larger organelles also attacked the molecules of the drugs. Meanwhile the implant did an analysis on the invader nanites, and duplicated their function with Pandora’s symbiotic robots. Soon her own nanites were interfacing with the computers of the Inquisitors, feeding information into the system, while at the same time hacking in and gaining access to that computer network.
“Now we can get on with the next phase of the questioning,” said the dwarfish man, picking up another instrument, turning a dial, then placing it on Pandora’s chest between her breasts.
The pain as the electricity entered her system was unbearable. Pandora arched her back as her muscles spasmed involuntarily, her teeth bit down, taking off the tip of her tongue, and her bladder released warm liquid that ran beneath her legs and buttocks. The man removed the electrode, looked into her face for a moment, then pushed it back into contact with her skin. Pandi screamed, a high piercing sound. The dwarfish man removed the electrode once again and looked into her face.
Pandi tried to glare back, while pulling in breath through a snot filled nose, tears running from her eyes. Her mind cringed as she thought about going through hours of this. One of the other Inquisitors was looking at a comp screen, and he looked over at the chief torturer and shook his head.
The man gave her a sad look, then touched the electrode back to her chest. Snot flew from Pandora’s nose again and she screamed, pushing all the air out of her lungs until there was no more. The Inquisitor removed the electrode and Pandi fell back to the table as her muscles relaxed, her chest heaving as she tried to bring enough air into her lungs.
“We can do this for hours,” said the man, nodding to a subordinate who ran a wet cloth over her forehead, then cleaned up the rest of her face. “Why put yourself through this, when you know we will get what we want at the end.”
“She seems to be resistant to our drugs,” said the Inquisitor who was watching the computer screen. “I don’t know how that is possible.”
“Because her tech base is so much more advanced than ours,” said the Chief, who then smiled at the woman. “Our drugs are probably primitive compared to what they have on that station, and I think she has been conditioned to resist even them.”
The man looked over at the table of instruments, his hand reaching out and touching, then grabbing, another device that looked similar to the freezing unit. “Maybe pain is not the total answer,” said the man in a soft, almost caressing voice. “You are a beautiful woman, desirable, even to that Abomination you call a lover. Perhaps he will not desire you so much when you are a scarred, pitiful creature.”
The inquisitor flipped on the device and pressed it to Pandora’s right breast, the one that had not been scarred by the cold. The smell of burning flesh reached her nostrils at about the same time the pain came through the nerve damp that her nanites were administering. It was excruciating, though she knew not as bad as it would have been without the nanites. What was worse was watching the probe burn its way into her tender flesh, deep into the breast. The man moved the probe and burned off her nipple, then pushed it back down.
“Bastard,” she yelled, putting more pain into the yell than there really was, which was not really such a stretch.
“Give us the code, or I promise you that you will be a woman no man will ever desire. Ever again.”
Liar, she thought, knowing she had to hold out at least a little while longer. Knowing that once on the station she could have all of the damage they were doing repaired. That’s what her rational mind was telling her. Her emotional mind was crying over the damage that was being done to her body. It was telling her she was going to be a hideous cripple for the rest of her life. Lair, she thought again, this time at her own mind. That’s what they want you to think. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear the emotion laden thoughts out, and only allow the rational to take hold.
A sharp pain in her left hand forced her eyes open, and she stared in horror at her pinky finger, held up in the pincers that had taken it off. She took a shuddering breath, fighting back the fear that was about to again overwhelm her. And at that moment the heat probe struck at her inner thighs, burning into the flesh just below her privates, sending a wave of excruciating pain rolling up her nerves before the nanites could initiate a block. Pandora sputtered and ejected more snot from her nose, clamping her jaws shut, then fading into blackness.
* * *
“She is very strong, this one,” said the Chief Inquisitor over the com link.
“Take your time,” said the Admiral, looking at the burned and bleeding form of the woman strapped to the table. “We don’t need the information this day, but we will need it. And don’t worry about what shape she is in at the end. We are planning to just space her body anyway. Maybe that will cause the Abomination to make a mistake out of anger.” Or attack us in a great rage and wipe us from the Universe. It was a risk either way, but Gerasi was determined to strike at the Abomination somehow.
Chapter Fifteen
Watcher was developed to be the ultimate soldier. But once it was discovered how frighteningly intelligent he was even the military wanted nothing to do with him. It is surprising how generals and admirals have strong opinions about the intelligence of subordinates, and how a brilliant underling is seen as a threat by the ruling class of the Military Establishment. Journal of the Watcher Project
Watcher stood on the branch of the tree he had levitated up to, looking out over the broad river valley to his front. He had decided an hour earlier to take to the upper canopies again, banking on the enemy not knowing where he was. But now he had this river ahead that at its narrowest was at least ten kilometers, a narrow he would have to cross if he didn’t want to detour far out of his way.
The wind rustled through the leaves of the tree, and the leaves turned to allow the wind to carry away heat. Amazing ecology, thought Watcher, looking at the leaves that were actually exothermic sugar factories. In an extra billion years of evolution Maurid life had branched off much further on the evolutionary scale than did Earth forms, and plants and animals were much more closely related than they were in terrestrial ecologies. Plants had fibrous muscles, some more than others, while animals were able to gain some energy from light. Maybe not enough to survive, but enough to aid them in survival.
But of most interest to Watcher was the shielding effect the jungle had on heat emitters. Vehicles under the canopy were invisible to infrared sensors in air or space, both because the heat production of the plants, and the heat absorption/reflection of the leaves. But when he was over the cold water of the river things would be different. Unless, he thought, stepping from the branch and lowering himself to his tank on his grabber units.
His audio pickups told him something was moving through the air some distance away, toward that river. Watcher reversed course, back to his perch, his HUD zooming in on some objects moving through the center of the valley. He cursed as he recognized the atmospheric fighters that had given him so much trouble five hundred kilometers back. Cursed while remembering that he had prepared for just this eventuality.
Watcher hadn’t thought of aircraft when he had planned this mission. Spacecraft yes, and things looking down from the orbitals. But not old fashioned, well really high tech, aircraft that could swoop low to attack or fly high to recon equally well.
Two of the craft flew directly over the river, while each had a wing man over the jungle on either side. It made sense they would patrol this waterway, as this valley was directly on his path from where they had spotted him previously, and where they knew he wanted to go. He had detoured a little north before progressing again in this direction, but they would have taken that into account as a possible course.
One of the fighters banked to the right and straightened out in a path that would take it near his position. Watcher moved back into the foliage, making sure that his suit was only radiating on the same strength and frequency as that of the surrounding vegetation, at the same time radiating the excess heat back into the jungle. He zoomed in on the approaching fighter with his HUD, sprouting a smaller screen that showed its path over the terrain in relation to his position. It was going to come close, but nowhere near an overflight. It roared over the jungle inland of Watcher, moving just a little over the speed of sound, and passed. Watcher switched his view to his orbital microsats and scanned the area.
To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well) Page 16