Freyan turned it around in his hands, giving the weapon a thoughtful look. "How this got in that simpleton's hands I will never know. Weapons like these have been outlawed since the treaty agreement between the Council and the Bloodless. These are very rare, to the extent that I fear something else may be afoot." Freyan tapped his finger against his face, lost in thought.
"Come on, I don't want to stay here a minute longer than necessary. Take that with you and hide it away in your safe. It's time to move," said Phoenix.
29
Lying down with his arms folded behind his head, Phoenix stared up at the ceiling of his cell. The long, uneventful hours were beginning to wear on him. He still had not heard a word from Saoirse. That worried him.
Slam!
He was expecting this play. As the door of his cell slammed open, he didn't move from his position. He was surprised at how long it had taken them to seek him out.
"On feet, now!" said Shanks, walking into the cell.
Phoenix got up with the speed of a pensioner, scratching his groin as he waited. In front of him stood four guards plus Shanks. Giving Shanks his most welcoming smile, Phoenix spread his hands out in front of him.
"Shanks, old buddy, old pal, what can I do for you on this fine day?"
"Do for Shanks! Do for Shanks!" Shaking where he stood, Shanks slammed what appeared to be a baton against the cell bars. Turning his head back towards Phoenix, he spat in front of him. "You know what you did! You know!"
"I honestly don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about. Really, I don't. Would you like to tell me what's gotten you so worked up, dear friend?" asked Phoenix.
"I tell you nothing. I do not answer to you. You answer Shanks's questions. Why did you attack honest, harmless prisoners?"
"Attack?" Phoenix said, looking bewildered. "I haven't attacked anyone. Why would I do that? You say they were honest and harmless, but that can't be true, can it? Otherwise, why would they be in here? So I ask again, why would I--as you so eloquently put it--attack harmless and helpless prisoners?"
"Just because."
"'Just because’ isn't really a reason, now is it?" said Phoenix.
Shanks took a step closer to Phoenix, his teeth grinding. "Just because you rule-breaker. You lawless. Shanks knows your type well. Thinks himself above the law. Thinks himself so clever. But Phoenix Jones wrong." He smiled.
"We'll see," Phoenix muttered under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Where other two?"
Phoenix had made sure that Freyan and Plowstow were not around. He knew his little fight would attract attention, and it was only a matter of time before Shanks came a-knocking. Even if there were no proof or evidence that Phoenix was involved, he knew Shanks would still target him. Shanks's dislike of Phoenix bordered on obsessive, so he'd warned the other two to stay clear of their cell until he was picked up by the guard.
Plus, absent, they'd avoid Shanks's anger. Phoenix knew men like Shanks. When he ran in certain circles, Phoenix had to learn how they ticked. Shanks would never outright kill Phoenix. No, torture was more fun. Making Phoenix suffer gave Shanks pleasure.
"I don't know," said Phoenix with a shrug.
"You know, you know. Why play games?" Shanks asked, taking another step closer.
"There they are, behind you!" said Phoenix, pointing behind Shanks.
Shanks's head snapped around and he looked over his shoulder. But he saw nothing. Once he turned to address Phoenix, a fist smashed into his face and threw his head back. Stumbling backwards, Shanks brought his hands up to his bloody nose.
As Phoenix rubbed his knuckles, he gave Shanks his most prize-winning smile. "Oh, wasn't that them? I thought I saw them. But I must have been mistaken. Silly me. The place isn't very well-lit, so shadows tend to play tricks on you."
That should about take his mind off the other two. I'll need them later.
Shanks shook where he stood. Two guards came to his aid, standing on either side of him. Phoenix wasn't sure if they were there to help their boss or restrain him. Had he gone too far?
"You must be stupid," Shanks said in disbelief. "Attacking a guard? Attack me? Ohhh, Shanks thinks it's time for Phoenix to see the Hole again. Lesson not learned. Lesson not learned."
"Made you look."
Shanks nodded his head and curled his lips into what would be classed as a smile. Head still nodding, he walked even closer to Phoenix.
"They say twelve hours is the maximum time people last in the Hole. Shanks shall test that."
Shanks turned his back and took a step towards the doorway. He stopped in his tracks as if a thought had occurred to him. Spinning on his heel, he brought his baton crashing down on Phoenix's head.
Phoenix hung from his wrists, sweat dripping down his face. His thoughts were cloudy and hazy. How long had he been in here? It couldn't be days, could it? No, he would be dead if it were. That bastard Shank was just trying to push him to his breaking point. Phoenix wouldn't allow him the pleasure--he had to fight on.
But the heat. Dear God, the heat.
Had it been this hot last time? Did he just black it out from his memory?
Licking his dry, cracked lips, Phoenix tried to muster some sort of moisture inside his mouth, but couldn't find any. He would welcome the cold when it slowly came. Up to a point, anyway. Once the very air around him threatened to freeze the blood in his veins, he'd wish that was gone, too. Never to return.
The constant battle of heat and cold was designed to drive you crazy. Always wishing for one when the other was upon you.
Phoenix opened his eyes and saw another face not far from his. The weathered, grey skin and decrepit appearance belonged to an alien with enormous eyes and big, floppy ears. It stared lifelessly at Phoenix. He wasn't sure if it was dead or not. In all honesty, he didn't really care.
"Sh...Sha...Shanks must really hate you," said the alien in front of him.
Phoenix tried to reply, but his throat was like sandpaper. Summoning a little saliva inside his mouth one more time, Phoenix tried his best to speak.
"Why?" was all he managed.
"Because...he would have...killed anyone else," the grey alien snickered.
"I have one of those faces."
The grey alien's head collapsed to its chest, where it remained silent. Glad for the peace, Phoenix's thoughts returned to his current dilemma.
He could have avoided this, just admitted to defending himself and simply pleaded for Shanks's mercy. Got on his hands and knees. Shanks would have bought that. All the ugly fucker wanted was his ego stroked. But just the thought of that made bile rise in Phoenix's throat.
Judging someone else because of their pride and ego? Phoenix chided himself for his own hypocrisy. How many times did he get in the shit just because he wouldn't back down, because he didn't want to lose face? Always trying to play the big man. And where did that get him? On a prison ship in some distant galaxy. Hanging by his arms like a dead pig. When was he going to learn?
He would lose the twins because of his actions, lose the only gifts his parents had left him. He would fail again because that was what he always did, wasn't it? Go from one rage-fueled situation to the next.
He hated this place, this pit of sorrow and despair, where life was cheap. Did he deserve to be here? Was this the universe's way of punishing him for his crimes? How was he ever going to get out?
Shaking the chains holding his arms aloft, Phoenix let out an ear-piercing yell. "Is this the best you can do? Heat and fucking cold? Huh? Is this it?"
He shook the chains until they began to play a beautiful melody. Phoenix yelled out in fury at where he was. He roared against the sweltering heat, willing himself to survive, striving to be better than he was before. Because if he couldn't be, then he would surely die here, and all his previous efforts would be for naught.
30
With a crash, the cell door was slammed open.
Phoenix's barely co
nscious form hung between two prison guards, head lolling on his chest and snot running from his nose. It wasn't a pretty sight. Thrown head-first into his cell, he was caught by Freyan before his face smashed into the floor. Both guards snickered as they closed the cell door behind him.
"Your friend here is lucky. Shanks must have been in a good mood, otherwise he'd have died in the Hole," said one of the guards.
"I shall pass your concerns on to him, when he regains consciousness," said Freyan.
"You can do whatever the hell you want, bot," the guard said as he walked away.
Freyan cradled Phoenix's head in his lap. Stroking his face, Freyan seemed lost in thought. "Make sure they are gone," Freyan said to Plowstow.
Freyan lifted Phoenix up and placed him on his bunk. Getting what he needed from his hidden hole, he began administering aid to Phoenix.
"Plowstow, have you made your decision? I know you were of two minds about the whole thing, but I believe your hand may be forced one way or the other," said Freyan.
Pacing up and down the tiny cell, Plowstow didn't respond. Tapping his canine teeth, he stopped and looked at Freyan. He looked like he was about to say something, but instead he shook his head and continued pacing.
"I understand your concern, Plowstow. Truly, I do. The female is not to be trusted, but what other choice do we have? It is either that or rot away in this cell. You know what it means to be in Dredar. It's a life sentence. Once in, you won't get out. I have been here long enough to know that, trust me."
"There is always a choice," muttered Plowstow.
"That is true, there is always a choice. A choice to do something or nothing. The odds of fate and chance aligning to bring this Earth man here are a million to one. I shan't cloud your visions of escape by telling you that the task ahead will be easy. Star systems, no. We may not make it out alive, but I will take that chance over the alternative."
"Easy for you to say."
"Why? Because you believe I am less alive than you? Because blood flows through your veins? Because you breathe the very air around us? Like the great musician Funk Master Dino once said, 'We're all alive, baby. Listening to the sweet music of love, life and passion. You just gotta listen, baby.'"
"Why don't you ever make sense and speak plain?"
"The more confused people are, the easier it is to control them."
"I'm not saying I'm in, but I ain't saying I'm out, either," said Plowstow.
His words were seemingly lost on Freyan. The Bloodless one inspected Phoenix with laser-like focus. Lifting up Phoenix's hands, he turned each one over slowly. Placing them back down, Freyan placed his hands over Phoenix’s chest, where a faint glow emitted from his palms.
"This is most interesting. Well, well, well, who would have thought?" said Freyan.
"What?"
"The nanobots I injected Phoenix with seem to be working on a new level. They are taking to him like I have never seen before. And these are just basic nanobots I knocked up. I wouldn't imagine using them on anyone if the situation weren't so dire. If only I had my equipment, the things I could do to you... The improvements I could make..."
Freyan looked down at Phoenix with joy. His egg-white hands ran over Phoenix's body, as a mechanic would run his over his most-prized car.
"I shall build you into something amazing, Phoenix Jones. They shall yet see my brilliance come to life."
31
Phoenix walked through his cell door, clutching a piece of paper to his chest. Both Plowstow and Freyan were on their bunks, silent. Going over, he kicked both bunks with everything he had.
"Wake the hell up! All you two ever do is sleep," said Phoenix. Pointing to Freyan, he looked at him suspiciously. "I'm surprised your type even sleeps."
"'Your type'? How derogatory. Plus, why wouldn't we?" Freyan shot back.
"Well, you know," Phoenix said, waving his hands in the air, looking for the right word.
"No, I don't know, so why don't you tell me?"
"Don't get your knickers in a twist. If you want me to spell it out, then I will--because you're a machine-based entity, I didn't think you would need sleep. There, I said it, happy now? Let the uncomfortable silence begin," Phoenix snapped.
"What are knickers? And why would they get in a twist?" asked Freyan.
"It's a saying where I come from. It means don't overreact."
"Hmm, interesting. To answer your previous, ignorant question, yes, I do sleep. Although the Bloodless are 'machine-based,' as you like to put it, we need time to recover--recharge, as it were. This allows us to repair ourselves and sometimes to cool down our powerful brains."
"Powerful, huh?" Plowstow snorted.
"Anyway," said Phoenix, "Saoirse slipped me this note, but I can't read it. It's some gibberish alien lingo." He handed the note over to Freyan.
Freyan and Plowstow looked at the note, then each other, and burst out laughing. Plowstow held his sides as he wiped away a tear.
"Gibberish, he called it. Gibberish. How backwards is this planet of yours?" asked Plowstow.
Phoenix stood with his arms folded over his chest, lips pressed tightly together.
"My dear, uneducated fool," said Freyan. "This is the written language known across space. It's Galactic standard. Once a species has mastered space travel, they must use the Lingua device, which enables them to understand other species. The Lingua was the device no doubt placed on your head when you first arrived. Come now, Plowstow, stop laughing."
Plowstow still held his sides as laughter spilled from his throat.
"The one flaw that the Lingua device has is that it doesn't allow any written word to be converted. It's not your fault; I shall teach it to you, as we have nothing but time in this place."
"Thank you for that lesson. As interesting as it was, you still haven't told me what it says," Phoenix snapped.
"Oh, I do apologise." Freyan held the note to the light and cleared his voice box. "Earth man. Meet me at the same place we met last time. I am sure you remember--it's where I kicked seven stars out of you until you whimpered like a newborn. Be there. Don't make me come for you!" Freyan looked up from the note at Phoenix. "That's all it says."
"Wonderful," said Phoenix.
"Are you going to go?" asked Plowstow.
"Yes. But I could do with some--"
"Nope," said Freyan and Plowstow as one, cutting off Phoenix.
"Can you at least let me finish? You don't know what I'm going to say."
Freyan and Plowstow folded their arms across their chest.
"What? Seeing as you guys are fierce, mean, and tough, all I was going to say was that I could...maybe use some backup. Not that I'll need it. But you never know," finished Phoenix in a rush.
Freyan and Plowstow walked towards him and each placed a hand on one of Phoenix's shoulders. "Good luck," they said as one.
With his footsteps matching the beat of his heart, Phoenix approached the area where he'd met Saoirse all those weeks ago. It seemed darker, somehow--dirtier. The same bolts littered the floor and the same grease pools threatened to drop him on his ass. The only thing different was the steam being emitted from the overheard pipes. Visibility was terrible, like a boat lost out on the open water, forcing Phoenix to watch his footing.
Was this the spot where he met her? He couldn't be certain.
Phoenix spun around as he felt something pinch his ass. Smiling at him with an innocent grin, L gave him a wave.
"Are we on ass-pinching terms now?"
"Well, we'll see how we get on," she said with a wink. Making a come-here motion with her finger, she disappeared into the mist.
Hot on her heels, Phoenix followed. Moving through the mist, he thought he'd lost her completely until he bumped into her, forcing her to stumble forward.
"Why, ain't you forward?" L giggled.
"Watch where you put your hands," said an unmistakable voice through the mist. Saoirse walked forward, with a mean glint in her eye that Phoenix could see even through
the mist.
Phoenix waved his hands above his head.
"Aww, Midnight, you'll scare him away," said L.
"I don't scare that easily," Phoenix said with a wink.
"Good, because I wouldn't want you running away when this all goes down. It would look dishonourable and weak. Plus, I would have to hunt you down and kill you," Saoirse said.
"Ah. Well, that's good to know."
"Shall we? Before the tension kills me," said L, leading the way.
Phoenix followed closely behind, feeling Saoirse's hot breath beating on his neck. As they made their way through the mist, Phoenix thought they would end up at the same location as before. But this time, L stopped and pulled up a grate embedded in the floor. She descended into the opening without a backwards glance.
Phoenix hesitated. He felt a slight push from behind him, but ignored it completely. Instead, he peered into the darkness at his feet.
"If we wanted to kill you, we wouldn't have gone through all this trouble," said Saoirse from behind him.
Against his better judgment, Phoenix descended into the darkness. His feet found ladder steps. Step by step, he climbed down into the unknown.
32
Phoenix's senses were assaulted by a dim light that felt as bright as a sun flare. After his eyesight adjusted, he followed a narrow walkway until it led into a small chamber. Phoenix found L leaning against a table, as if this were a daily occurrence.
He swept his gaze around the room. It appeared the same as the last one he'd been introduced to. More tools, more gadgets, more grease. The only difference was that the room was slightly bigger and there appeared to be weapons stacked against boxes.
"Isn't this fun?" said L, hands clapping together as her hair turned orange.
"Fun?" asked Phoenix.
"Yes, fun. Back home, everything was so boring. There was no life, nothing to do. That's part of the reason my brother and I moved from our small town and into the city. We were looking for adventure. But I now think if we had stayed put, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have gotten involved with the wrong people and I wouldn't be in prison."
Breakout: (Space Outlaw 1) Page 11