by L. E. Thomas
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The rusty steel spikes shot under her toenails. Ryker felt her large toe come apart. She yelled for it to stop as the sharp pokes went into her toe again.
Screaming, she stared down at her bare feet and, as usual, saw no wound. She shook her head. The painful images and feelings were transmitted into her mind by the device used by Captain Rufino Rampa and his assistants. It wasn’t real.
Picturing the idea in her mind, she focused all her attention on the pain projected inside her head.
It’s all in your mind. Only in your mind. Only in your mind.
Clenching her jaw muscles, she focused on something—anything—else.
The water by Seaside.
Austin’s arms wrapping around her.
Searing pain ripped through her foot, breaking her concentration. Clamping her teeth shut, she screamed without opening her mouth. Tears slid down her face, mixing with the sweat flattening her hair. She closed her eyes.
Austin. Please hear me. I miss you. I—
The pain stopped. Her body relaxed. She took a deep breath and kept her eyes closed. Soft footsteps filled the air. Metal screeched like a rusty chair pulled across a hard surface. Opening her eyes just enough, she saw the blurry image of Rampa sitting on a stool while he focused on a tablet in his hands.
Please don’t start another of your question and answer sessions, she thought.
“Star Runner,” Rampa said in a calm voice. “Please open your eyes. It is time I inform you of a change in plan.”
She hesitated, wondering if this was another trick. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw him staring down at her. Swallowing through her dry throat, she tried to speak. Nothing came, her voice disappearing like a lit match on a beach.
More than anything, she wanted to ask him the question plaguing her mind during her captivity.
“You would like to say something?” he asked. “I will allow it.”
She cleared her throat. “Why … why don’t you kill me?”
“Ah.” Rampa leaned back on the stool. “Have you ever wondered why the Empire is so great? Why it has lasted as long as it has?”
Ryker pursed her lips. I don’t care.
“I’m sure you have. Countless generations have existed under the Zahl Empire. A rare few have challenged our rule and have found themselves asking, why we are so powerful? Why has our strength survived the test of time?” He leaned closer. Reaching out, he rubbed his palm across the top of her head, moving down to her ear and coming to rest on her cheek. “It’s because we do not waste resources.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“You.”
“Me.”
“Yes, you.” He smiled. “You inquired as to why you haven’t been killed. You are a Star Runner. That gives us three of your kind here in this complex. Three Star Runners. We had other pilots who were less talented. Some were sent to hard labor camps near the Frontier. Others were sent to factories near the capital worlds while those remaining were, well, disposed of. So three Star Runners are here—I see that as a good sign.”
Glancing back at his tablet, Rampa remained silent for a minute as he seemed to review a series of statistics. Ryker gazed toward the ceiling.
Three Star Runners. They had two of her fellow Legion pilots here in this facility. If she could escape, break free from this room, and link up with the others, they could find a way off this place. They could steal a ship, get far enough away to activate the Lutimite Drive and escape.
She raised her head, peering past Rampa’s shoulder toward the hatch he’d left open. It was possible she could find something to knock him out and flee down the corridor. No guards stood in the doorway, no laser beams burned across the opening to prevent her from escaping. Rampa seemed to be alone. If she could get out of the restraints and run down the hall, she could find the other Star Runners and, together, they could find some ship to use for their escape.
Her heart sank. The dream of escape seemed impossible. She knew too little about this location. Was she even on a planet? She had seen nothing other than this room for months. She might be onboard a space station somewhere in the vastness of the Zahl Empire. It could even be a large capital ship of some kind. She cycled through memories of her captivity, searching for any sign she may have missed about her location.
Nothing came to mind.
“For the past week,” Rampa continued like a doctor observing a patient, “we have been monitoring the various forms of pain we have projected into your mind. I believe we have ascertained the proper forms that will help us as we move toward our ultimate goal.”
Ryker chewed on her bottom lip, felt the rough and dry skin under her tongue. She cursed herself for admitting her role as a Star Runner. With her mind unfocused and full of fog, the admission came before she realized it. Now, Rampa seemed ready to take her captivity to a new level.
“And what is your goal?” she asked, her voice scratchy.
He locked eyes with her and grinned. “You are going to be the first of our new fighter pilots.”
Her lips curled back over her teeth. “I’ll never fly for you.”
“You will,” he said without hesitation. “I have explained to you the righteousness of the Zahl, how the evils of your Legion are preventing the full potential of this galaxy. We will show you and the rest of your people the light. Soon, you will want to help us.”
Ryker shook her head and looked away. “No.”
“Yes.” He held up his tablet, revealing an image similar to an X- ray. “The pain simulations you have been receiving have been monitored for greatest effect. We now have an idea of what works best in curbing your general thoughts and ideas. This will prevent you from straying from the course we’ve set for you.”
Rampa pointed to her brain. He spoke like a man selling a condo as if this was something she had a choice in doing. Seething, she glared at him, the blood rushing through her body drowning out his “presentation” of how he planned to test her further. She heard nothing of it. Instead, she imagined kicking him off his little stool and beating the life out of his smug face.
“Once this is complete,” he said, “you will fly a fighter for us and will lead our pilot program into a new era. Altered Star Runners are a great way to jumpstart this program. Once the Zahl annexes Legion territory, this will be a standard program for our forces when recruiting Star Runner fighter pilots. I think you will be able to showcase the potential of this to our command.”
Expression drained from her face. The corner of her lips arched in a half-grin. “You put me in a fighter. Do it today. I’ll show you potential. I’ll show you something unforgettable.”
Rampa clicked his tongue. “I am sure you would like nothing more, but that is why we must conduct surgery tomorrow so you can proceed with the rest of the program.”
Ryker blinked. “Surgery?”
“Were you not paying attention?”
“You can’t do surgery on me.”
“We can and will.” He stood. “Once you receive your implant, this will all go smoother.” He pointed at the translator in her ear. “You won’t need this anymore, either.”
“Why?”
“The implant will also alter the speech centers and allow you to translate easily and speak our language.” He smirked. “Can’t have you be a part of the Zahl Empire while you still speak your savage and uncivilized words. That is unacceptable.”
“You can’t do this.” She squirmed under the restraints, the thought of this man surgically implanting anything into her body making her nauseous.
“Don’t bother.” He turned around and marched out of the room. “We will see you first thing in the morning.”
Five men and a woman, all dressed in black lab coats, loomed over her. They peered down with only their eyes visible behind plastic masks. With the bright light glaring in her face, the figures appeared to be little more than silhouettes. Using a soft marker, one of the lab assistants drew on her exposed skull. Ryker
couldn’t move, the restraints pressing her into the table tighter than they ever had before.
They punctured her skin in several places along her neck and connected electrodes to her body.
“Bring it down,” one of the lab coat men announced.
Machinery growled to life, and all of the lab coats took one step back. Descending from the light like a massive octopus, the robotic probe moved toward her, six small tentacles stretching away from the body. The limbs moved out like they prepared to strike, but halted. She gasped for breath, sweat dripping down her face as the robot came to a stop over her face.
Closing her eyes, she listened as the people spoke about her as if she wasn’t right in front of them.
“Turn up the sedative.”
“But she needs to be conscious during the surgery.”
“She can’t be panicking like this. Look at those readings. Looks like she’s about to go into cardiac arrest.”
“Up her dose a bit.”
“And the sweat is going to foul up the sensors.”
“So?”
“We have two more of these to do today.”
“Come on, Cy. You forgot to take out the translator.”
One of them removed the translator from Ryker’s ear. From that moment forward, she only heard guttural vowels mixed with lyrical tones comprising the Zahlian language. She understood none of it.
As a wave of chemicals surged into her bloodstream like hot tea, the robot tightened its grip around her head. Her mind soared down a corridor for an instant, and then stopped. She perceived the sensation of floating in an empty, black space. She felt nothing but heard everything. The robot sliced into her skull, probing around her brain like an insect burrowing into her body. Fluids rushed around like she sat underwater. Her eyes twitched at the intrusion. The muscles in her hands and feet jittered. Wincing, she tried to imagine another place, but the sounds of the robot sloshing through her brain overtook her thoughts.
She had always heard the brain was a fragile and mysterious organ. Moving around her brain as these scientists were doing should have killed her—she knew that.
Somehow, she stayed conscious.
Hours passed, and she floated into nothingness. The scientists barked in Zahlian, ordering one another around. She opened her eyes but saw nothing clearly. An energy beam screeched, and she smelled burning flesh.
Blinking, she felt control of her eyelids once again. The robotic tentacles released their grip, and the machine moved away from her body, disappearing into the shadows. The lab coats loomed over her, their eyes wide behind their masks. They conversed and stared at her like she was an animal in a cage.
“… success.”
“… Know … time.”
“Impressed … job.”
She blinked, trying to understand why she could decipher some of the words they spoke in their language. Rampa stepped up between the scientists, slapping their arms and smiling. After speaking with them, he moved toward Ryker and stared at her like a slab of meat on a butcher’s counter.
Nodding in approval, he leaned over and looked her in the eye. “Welcome to the new you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Horizontal tube lights flashed overhead. A squeaking sound filled the air followed by several people murmuring. Ryker’s frail body rocked under the white sheet. The scene around her focused as if she climbed out of water. Blinking several times, she took in her surroundings.
Lab assistants wearing the familiar dark lab coats flanked both sides of her gurney. Someone pushed her down the long, dimly lit corridor. Raising her head slightly, she looked with wide eyes at her body under the sheet. She shook her head. No restraints held her to the gurney.
She glanced left, then right. Was there a mistake?
Her heart slammed against her chest cavity. A thin layer of sweat covered her body. If she acted fast enough, she could rise from the gurney and knock the assistants to the floor. Then she could put her plan into place.
Over the past several months, she had dreamed of her escape. Somewhere in this complex, there were other Star Runners. She would free them, releasing them from this horrid captivity and together, they would find a way off the planet or the station or wherever. Surely they would be able to find a ship and escape. Adrenaline surged through her body, and she knew her weak muscles would respond to the escape attempt. They had to respond. She would make Captain Rufino Rampa pay for his mistake.
Closing her eyes and controlling her breathing, she imagined kicking the assistant on the left and twirling off the gurney. Alarmed, the assistants would realize their mistake and try to force her back to the gurney. She would have to move fast, but it was possible.
And then she would be free. Free to go back to Austin and say all the things she needed to say. Free to return to her beloved Legion, a place of freedom and justice, not oppression. She could almost see her Trident, her beautiful fighter, sitting in the launch tubes of the Formidable. Yes, she had to escape.
Okay, she thought, here we go.
She lifted her leg to strike—
Searing pain shot through her body. She arched her back, writhing on the gurney. It felt as if her leg had ignited into a pool of flaming gasoline. She shrieked, making fists and curling her toes.
And then it stopped.
Sweat beaded on her forehead, sliding down into her eyes and burning. She lifted her free hands and wiped the perspiration from her eyes.
What happened?
She looked around, saw the assistants still marching beside the gurney like robotic servants. They had to have heard her scream, but they didn’t even look down. Was this real?
Raising her head, she stared down the corridor. Another trio of fluorescent lights passed overhead, the brightness forcing her to wince.
“You cannot flee. You cannot commit any action without our permission.”
She blinked, her jaw dropping. What was that? It sounded like Rampa.
“We have the ability to monitor negative or unproductive thoughts. Any attempt to escape—any effort to do anything outside of our directives—and you will be punished harshly. Do not test us or you will suffer.”
Resting her head back on the gurney, she took in a deep breath. They were in her head. The Zahl Empire. Rampa.
“Why?” she whispered, closing her eyes.
“For the greatness of the Zahl Empire. In time, you will see the honor that has been bestowed upon you. You will see the vicious mistake that is the Legion—the mistake it is to resist the Zahl.”
“Never.” A lump formed in her throat, the image of Austin’s face flashing in her mind. “I’ll never see it. You’ll have to kill me.”
A pause.
“We are not in the habit of wasting resources. Perhaps more lessons are in order.”
The pain returned, ripping through her body. She screamed, gripping the cold steel on both sides of the gurney.
“I—will—never—”
The pain increased. She yelled until she felt her vocal cords tore apart. Sweat soaked the sheets on the gurney.
“You will.”
“I’ll—kill—myself first! I’ll do it!” she cried, slamming her head back into the gurney. “I’d—rather…die!”
“Oh, no, Star Runner. You will not die until we allow it. From this day forth, you will not live unless we allow it. You will not speak unless we allow it. Star Runner, you are now … ours.”
Shaking her head, she felt her body weakening. “No!”
A pain unlike anything she ever experienced shot through her body. She yelled once more and fell into darkness.
Ryker’s eyes opened after a great effort. The assistants placed the gurney in the upright position and stuck an IV into her arm. She stared down at the gauze and the tube for several minutes. Her eyelids grew heavier. Studying the rest of her body, she saw no wounds. More importantly, she still saw no restraints.
But the strength left her body. She felt like a slab of flesh without muscles, drooping on the
gurney. It was as if they’d stripped her body of all its functions. Her head bobbed as she tried to focus on the new room. Computers lined the walls. Assistants wearing the same black lab coats sat at various terminals, typing away on old keyboards. Click, click-click, click-click.
Above, a bright light beamed down on her. It hurt her eyes. She thought of lifting her hand to shield her from the light, but her arm refused to comply.
Another sensation popped into her consciousness, a familiar salty taste filling her mouth.
Blood.
Probing her cheek with her tongue, she felt rough flesh on both sides. The taste of blood burned on her tongue. She forced herself to swallow and tasted the blood running down her throat. Her stomach rolled, and she winced.
“Self-inflicted wounds. You nearly chewed through the flesh with your last session.” The voice echoed around the room. It spoke Zahlian, yet she understood the language. “You really need to stop doing this to yourself. We have much work to do.”
She frowned, touching her ear and finding no translator.
“You don’t need it anymore. In addition to translation, your implant allows for me to communicate with you directly if needed.”
She licked her cracked lips.
“If …” she said in the Zahlian language, struggling with each word. “If there is anything decent … in you …”
“Yes?” Captain Rufino Rampa asked, pulling a stool next to her gurney. “You are speaking our exalted language well. Would you like to finish what you were saying?”
“Please.” She met his eyes. “Let me go. Just … let me die.”
Rampa smiled and nodded. “That may be the outcome, but it is not my first choice.” He leaned close. “I can make your life much easier. First, you must accept I am now in your head, and I can control your efforts through pain.”
“You will never control me.”
“Ah.” He moved his face near her cheek. She felt his breath on her skin. “I am growing impatient, Star Runner. I will have you. You will become the greatest pilot in the Zahlian Navy. In time, you will realize I have shown you the light. I will show you the way, but you must first accept my control.”