by Roxie Ray
Was it Karaak, trying to breach the defenses of my mental implants so he could peer into my mind?
I was having trouble breathing. The air in the box was running out quickly. I was lightheaded, and my lungs felt like they might burst.
Then I heard someone else inhaling and exhaling, right next to my ear.
I wasn't alone.
Someone else was trapped in the box with me. Someone who was sucking up all the air I needed to survive. Whoever it was, I knew I'd have to kill them. I'd have to blindly grab for their throat and crumple their windpipe. It was a matter of survival. Them or me.
But what if it was Hakkas in there with me?
Or worse... what if I was Hakkas?
I looked like Hakkas, thought like Hakkas, felt like Hakkas. In all the ways that mattered, I was him right now. Which meant that the other person in the box with me was Surge.
Which meant if I killed him, I'd be killing myself.
And the banging and clamoring continued, pounding, shrieking, wailing, bending the walls inward until I could feel them squeezing me from both sides...
I woke up covered in sweat and gasping for air, just as the lights came on in the cell block and the barred doors slid open. I could hear the prisoners stirring, talking to each other sleepily, preparing for another day in Karcerikus.
I felt a brief stab of concern like a knife between my ribs, wondering if Paige had suffered similar horrors during the night. If so, what shapes might they have taken for her? Would the nightmarish vortex have been even worse for her than it had been for me? Would she be able to shake off its effects quickly, since she'd be more used to it after months in here, or would it continue to haunt and disturb her for the rest of the day?
These thoughts were troubling – and worse, even if she had been similarly victimized in the night, there was little I could do about it. For the first time since my arrival, I was starting to fully understand the lengths Karaak had gone through to make sure that every inmate in this facility felt as powerless as possible.
What an evil bastard.
I was interrupted from my desire to tear out of the cell and locate Paige, ensure that she was all right, when Kuhlii spoke up.
“Bad dreams, huh, pal?” He regarded me with haunted, jaundiced fish eyes.
“You could say that,” I replied, hauling myself out of my bunk and flexing my wings. I'd been sleeping on them, and now they were filled with the sensation of pins and needles. Not that I'd need them anytime soon.
There'd be no flying in this dismal place.
5
Surge
We lined up with the other unit seven inmates and marched out into the corridor as the jailers led us to the nutrient distribution chamber. From what I'd read in Sharon's report, it was colloquially known as “the cafeteria,” but that was something of a sick joke – it was just a long, nondescript room where each convict was issued a dab of bland nutrient paste on a thin, flat wooden stick.
That one serving was enough to sustain each prisoner for the entire rest of the day. Different varieties were given to different inmates based on their unique physiological needs... for example, the Valkredians' paste included the artificial plasma we needed to survive, while the Mana received paste composed of algae from their native planet loaded with megadoses of vitamins.
It tasted like stale excrement. I wondered if perhaps that flavor might have been added on purpose. One more way to make life in Karcerikus as unpleasant as possible.
As we filed out of the chamber to return to our unit, the other inmates tossed the wooden sticks into a collection box. I slid mine into a pocket of my uniform, hoping it might come in handy later. Perhaps I could sharpen it into a weapon...
“I wouldn't do that, buddy,” a voice near me murmured.
I turned to look, and saw a Valkredian jailer standing close by. He was shorter than most members of our race, with thinning purple hair and rat-like features.
He smiled pleasantly. “They count those things while they're cleaning them off for reuse. Any of them go missing, they have us toss the entire unit until we find it, so no one can make it into a shiv. And then you've got every other convict on the block pissed at you, since half of them will lose contraband in the search. If you want, you can just hand it over to me and I'll say I found it on the floor.”
“And why would you be inclined to do such a favor for me?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously.
“You're in control of the Sives now, aren't you? Well, my name's Korkos. Until recently, Umel and I had a little understanding: I keep his people off the manifest for terraforming duty, arrange transfers here and there, smuggle in contraband for him... and in return, I get paid.”
“Let me guess,” I cut in. “Lately, his payments to you have been getting smaller and more infrequent, and he's gotten a lot harder to deal with.”
“Hey, good guess! But from what I hear, you're gonna get things running smoothly again. So as long as that means plenty of extra rulas in my pocket, I'll be happy to work with you any way I can. Sound good?”
“How much was Umel giving you?” I asked.
“Two hundred. Every week.” From the look in his eyes, he expected me to balk at the number, try to talk him down.
Instead, I said, “All right. From now on, you get four hundred.”
Korkos was so surprised that he almost choked on his own spit. “Four...? By the Succubi! For that much, I'll smuggle in a whole field of rax for you, plus a four-barreled pulse cannon and a damn quantum mortar launcher!”
“No need. I have my own way of getting things in. Just keep my people safe, and watch my back. Agreed?”
“As long as you don't do anything too splashy or stupid to attract Karaak's attention, sure, we've got a deal. When can I expect the first payment?”
“Two days,” I told him, handing over the wooden stick.
He pocketed it quickly, looking around to make sure no one was watching. Just as he was about to leave, he turned and asked, “By the way... what's your sign?”
So here it was. The first hint of that strange bit of information Dhimurs had conveyed to me – that astrology was somehow involved in this. “I was born under the sign of Dhakkovah, the Rose Bearer.”
“Ah, excellent!” Korkos said, beaming. “Dhakkovah-born Valkredians are known for structured, reasonable thinking, and for keeping their word. Pleasure doing business with you!”
The main door of unit seven rumbled open and I walked in with the other prisoners while Korkos left (presumably to return the wooden stick to the nutrient chamber). I surveyed the inmates who shared the cell block with me. Most of them were Sives – but the four Carnage Riders were still drifting among them, watching me, flashing menacing grins in my direction. I even saw Hragha draw his index finger across his throat in the classic “you're dead” gesture.
Ordinarily, I wouldn't give them a second thought. I'd be too convinced that the presence of the other Sives would dissuade them from attacking me, or that having Korkos on my side would keep them at bay.
But space bikers were known for being a pack of fearless, reckless, dim-witted psychos who would do anything to avenge a slight against them. So it was more likely they'd attack anyway, regardless of the potential consequences.
It didn't matter. I couldn't worry about that now. I still had a job to do.
Unfortunately, the most difficult part of that job was currently at hand.
Being a lifelong spy meant that I had been dropped into countless hostile areas, and told to seek out a point of contact who would assist me from that point forward. It was the riskiest element of any covert operation – having to blindly trust someone I didn't even know, to proceed under the dangerous assumption that the intel we'd received on that person was accurate and up-to-date. If it wasn't, that contact could just as easily turn on me or sell me out, either to save their own skin or because they'd simply been a double agent to begin with.
Nine times out of ten, the contact prove
d trustworthy and helpful, and the mission unfolded as planned.
But there was always that tenth time. The one that could end with me being shot, stabbed, strangled, or worse if I wasn't careful.
For this mission, Paige was my contact, even though she didn't know it yet. Tetro and Sharon had stated with absolute certainty that once I revealed my true identity and intentions to Paige, she would do everything she could to assist me. They vouched for her character, her resourcefulness, and her willingness to do what it took to put a stop to the senseless deaths that occurred in Karaak's prison.
I desperately wanted to believe all of those things. Especially since I'd identified Paige as my mate – every fiber of my being demanded that I trust her implicitly, that I share myself with her utterly and without reservation so that we could bond at once.
Yet even so, I was a spy. Suspicion and paranoia were crucial tools of my trade. And ultimately, I was unsettled by the prospect of trusting a human woman just because she'd been talked up by another human woman... and worse, by a Mana as well, a member of a race my planet had been at war with until relatively recently. In most of my operations, the contacts had at least been vouched for by Valkredians.
In any event, the best way to ensure that a mission contact was truly reliable was to give them a series of small tests at the outset, just to see how well they could follow instructions and think on their feet. The results would usually indicate how much they could be depended on moving forward.
As I looked at the Sives, I had to admit that most of them seemed calmer and more focused than they'd been yesterday. I noted the lack of scratching, twitching, and fidgeting that generally indicated rax withdrawal. Their eyes were clearer. Their hands weren't shaking. And they didn't seem to be too intoxicated to function, either.
So from the look of things, Paige had carried out my orders to the letter.
Good.
Ordinarily, I'd have been inclined to give her another test, just to be sure. But in this case, I didn't have the time – I needed to get to the bottom of all this and get out of this prison as quickly as possible. With that in mind, it didn't seem like I had much choice but to take a deep breath and trust her.
I went to her cell, knowing we wouldn't have much time before the alarm blared to indicate the start of the inmates' work shifts. When her eyes met mine, my heart lurched in my chest. Just the sight of her made me feel like there were millions of white-hot filaments burning beneath my skin. I was tense, edgy. I knew how vital it was for me to control myself, but all I wanted was to take her in my arms and tell her she was mine.
I took a deep breath and stepped in. “It looks like you did a good job dispensing the rax to the Sives. Were there any problems?”
“A few of them wanted more than I was prepared to give them, of course, but most of them were just happy to have something to take the edge off. Do you want the rest of it back?”
“No, you should hang onto it,” I told her. “I trust you with it.”
“Thank you. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Was there a faint lilt of flirtation in her voice? Or was I imagining it? “As a matter of fact, yes. There's something you need to know.”
She frowned, tilting her head to one side. “Oh? What?”
I made sure no one was close enough to listen in, then leaned in, lowering my voice to a furtive whisper. “Sharon and Tetro sent me.”
Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth, but I raised a hand, gesturing for her to remain silent. My heart was pounding in my chest. This was, quite literally, the moment of truth – if this single encounter didn't go as planned, I wouldn't be making it back to Valkred.
At least, not alive.
“I'm not really a member of the Sives,” I went on, quietly but urgently. “I'm a covert operative working for the Valkred government. I've been sent here to confirm reports of inmate abuse, and to uncover Karaak's secret plan... whatever the hell that might be. I was told that you would be a valuable asset to my mission.”
Paige's mouth opened and closed a few times as she searched for the words to respond. Finally, she said, “So Tetro and Sharon made it to safety? They're free? I was worried that they might have been tracked down and killed by the authorities for being fugitives, or that they were caught and dragged off to some other prison.”
“They made it all the way to Valkred to seek asylum,” I explained. “And when it was granted, they informed the blood ruler that the Valkredian citizens who'd been sent to Karcerikus were being hideously mistreated. They also seemed convinced that the warden had some far-reaching scheme in mind, one that could threaten the entire galaxy. With your assistance, I intend to carry out my mission and expose what's going on here.”
“You mean you're some kind of spy? And you expect me to, what... help you find the answers you're looking for?” She shook her head firmly. “No. No way. I can't take those kinds of risks, not in here. You don't know what happens to us in this place, how they punish us for stepping out of line. Karaak is a monster.”
“Then I'd think you'd be eager to help me bring him down, and put an end to his atrocities,” I said.
“But I've already been putting my neck on the line by running errands for the Sives!” she protested. “I've been living in almost constant terror of being found out since I got here. Now you want me to take even bigger risks? I can't!”
“You must,” I pressed on relentlessly. “Your cooperation will determine the success or failure of my assignment. I have never failed to carry out a mission, and I don't intend to do so now. Which means, unfortunately, that you do not have a choice. Now that I've revealed my true purpose to you, I cannot allow you to simply sit on the sidelines. You are already involved.”
“Thanks for that,” she answered sourly, crossing her arms.
I felt uneasy about how much pressure I was exerting on her. She had every right to be frightened of the consequences of being found out, especially since I'd effectively dragged her into my mission instead of offering her any real choice. I particularly disliked the implied threat I'd just lobbed at her. I had no real intention of harming her if she refused to help, but I couldn't let her know that.
I felt something twist and squirm inside my brain. Hakkas. He would have gladly hurt her, if it meant getting what he wanted. I caught several vague but disturbing images of the specific injuries he would have inflicted on her, and quickly tried to banish them.
I wasn't Hakkas. I refused to give in to his gruesome urges, just as I refused to let myself succumb to the mating instincts that were driving me wild – especially now that Paige was so close.
“Sharon believed in you,” I said. “She trusted you. She said you were stronger than you knew, and that you were the key to stopping Karaak. Tell me, Paige... was she mistaken? Are you just another weak, pathetic, broken-down Earthling slave who's willing to let others continue to suffer rather than act to help them? If so, she will be disappointed to learn that.”
“Don't you dare talk to me about helping the inmates in here!” she hissed angrily. “You just got here! I've been doing everything I can to save lives every day by working in the infirmary! One out of every six prisoners in Karcerikus owes their life to me, after being sent down to terraform in those goddamn flying death traps!”
“Perhaps. But six out of six will have their quality of life improved dramatically if Karaak is exposed as a sadist and murderer. If you truly care about the well-being of your fellow convicts, Paige, it seems to me that your course of action is clear.”
She sighed. “If I do this – if I help you – then what happens to me, huh? Like you said, I'm in here as a slave, not a criminal. I don't have any limit on my sentence. I'm here indefinitely.”
It was a good question, and I admired her cleverness in asking it. As with many of my contacts during covert ops, it wasn't enough to have a threat prepared in order to keep them in line – there had to be a reward in the offing as well.
“If you assist me, my gov
ernment will grant you Valkredian citizenship and offer you a new home on our planet. You'll have freedom and a new life. You'll even be able to see Sharon again.”
“And the other human slaves here? What about them?”
“They will be liberated as well,” I lied.
The truth was, I had no idea what would be done with them once Karaak was removed. Legally, it was a gray area. Since they hadn't committed any crimes, technically, they didn't belong in the standard galactic penal system – supplementing prison labor with human slaves had been Karaak's prerogative, since his was a private penitentiary.
But since they were Earthlings who'd been abducted, returning them to their homeworld would be too risky and disruptive, as it could expose the existence of extraterrestrial life (thus violating numerous treaties with Earth's leaders, who were determined to keep such information secret from their own populace in order to hoard power and control).
Perhaps they would be resold to other individuals, organizations, or governments as slaves. Perhaps they'd be granted some form of refugee status. I didn't know.
I only knew that I needed Paige's help, and I was prepared to say whatever I had to in order to get it.
I'd concern myself with the details later.
She thought it over for a long moment, and then nodded briskly. “All right. As long as I've got your word on that, I'm in. What do you need from me?”
I was relieved by her compliance, since now I wouldn’t have to convince her more forcibly, but I didn’t let it show – I wanted her to believe this had been the only possible outcome. “Your work in the infirmary includes cataloging the corpses of prisoners who have died in terraforming accidents before the remains are disposed of, correct?”
“Not exactly my favorite aspect of the job, but sure. Why?”
“During your next few shifts, I want you to examine them more carefully than you normally would,” I explained. “Look for anything that doesn't seem to add up in terms of the injuries they've sustained, and make a note of their dates of birth.”