by KT Belt
“Ahh!” a sorten cried with surprise from down the corridor.
The security member in front of her ran to his aid, as did half the squad.
“What is it?” one of them asked.
“Something touched me!” the stricken sorten said. “I think it pulled out of some of my fur.”
Carmen allowed a small smile as she thought of Widget.
“Your fur?” one of them asked.
“Yes, that’s what it felt like.”
They stood still for a long moment. Nothing was said as they looked at each other.
“She’s not here,” one eventually said.
“She has to be! Look what the gauge is reading,” the sorten with the scanner protested, holding it up for all to see.
“That thing’s broken,” the security leader said. Then he looked at his squad. “Move out!”
The sortens assembled in a well-ordered line and bounded down the hall. Carmen watched them leave, breathing several sighs of relief. She eventually dropped her cloak of invisibility, and when confronted again by the sight of the world as it normally was, she was very nearly taken aback again. It seemed it was possible to get used to anything.
She ran back the way she came, still shaking her bleary head. She couldn’t hear or sense any sorten security teams coming, so it looked like she was in the clear. After going back through the hidden hatch, she nearly flew by the medical bay. Sorten personal were inside, tending to the dead. They didn’t even notice her go.
The elevator wasn’t too hard to find, as it wasn’t far from the med bay. More important, though, it was undefended. She could only guess the sortens had never expected she’d get this far. It was also helpful that she’d been with Rauon enough times to remember what floor she lived on. She pressed the appropriate button, thankful that her luck seemed to be changing. Everything seemed to be changing and for the better, for once. She just needed to find Phaethon and get out of here.
But when the elevator arrived, her lips morphed into a bemused frown. The doors weren’t opening. She pressed the button to open them, and a second later, the power in the elevator failed. She let out a small sigh. Luck was with her for the moment, but it was by no means her best friend. She telekinetically ripped the doors open and leapt into the corridor, pausing a moment when a tremor rumbled through Solitary. She had no idea what it was, so she paid it no further mind.
She looked down the empty corridor to a destination she did not know. The usual anxiety of the aimless inevitability that was her life was nowhere to be found, though. She took a few hesitant steps forward before she was sure of what she was sensing. Phaethon was here, somewhere. A Clairvoyant’s bioelectric field and its energy signature was as unique as a fingerprint, and as sure as she was breathing, she could sense his.
Pure elation clouded any other feeling. She bolted down the corridor, quick as Mercury and unstoppable in her purpose. The pain of the body faded away, its protests muted. Mind and body were a team. They were like moth to flame, drawn like a beacon to a feeling, a mere intuition of where they were needed. She twisted and turned through several of the hidden hatches along the corridor walls. She was a Clairvoyant, yes, but her senses merely gave her a direction, not a path. She stopped for a quick moment to consider exactly how to get to where she needed to go.
“There,” she said to herself, darting through yet another of the hidden hatches.
After a short trek down a corridor, she went through another hatch. She was so nerve-rackingly close that it felt like she could reach out and touch Phaethon. The mere thought of it surrounded her in warm comfort, like a blanket. The feeling had seemed lost to her the day she arrived at the facility.
She went through another hatch and stopped in place. Phaethon stood before her. He was not alone.
“Rauon?” she asked curiously.
The sorten technician stood on his hind legs next to her charge. They were joined by a small security contingent who aimed their weapons at both her and Phaethon.
“Edge,” Rauon replied.
Carmen slowly shook her head, not understanding. “What are you doing here?”
“I should have asked you that in the beginning,” he spat, anger bleeding into his voice. “I knew you would come looking for him. Why is that?”
She didn’t answer right away. The alarm blared, and the corridor alternated between flashes of red light and absolute dark, lending urgency to the proceedings. But to her, the scene seemed frozen like a timeless diorama.
She looked at Phaethon. He appeared unharmed. However, the security seemed ready and willing to modify that status.
Carmen swallowed hard. “He’s my charge,” she said, looking at Rauon again. “I don’t care about anything else—Caelus, your work here, none of it.” Phaethon stared at his handler till he could only shake his head as his gaze fell.
Rauon’s countenance didn’t change. “That’s it? All this, just for him?”
“Yes,” she answered quickly.
“I…don’t believe you. Not anymore,” the sorten said.
“I’m not lying.”
“What about your partner?” Rauon asked pointedly. “I somehow doubt his motives are as noble as what you claim.” He took a deep breath and, when he looked at Carmen again, his eyes narrowed. “Caelus was right. He was always right. I now know why he calls you beasts. Clairvoyants only have one purpose. It is integral to everything they are. Destruction.”
“That’s not true,” Carmen insisted.
“Everything about you is a lie,” Rauon went on. “You even lied to me about your name. And your real name, Edge, isn’t even your real name. Why should I believe anything you say?”
“What about you?” she asked in turn. “What were you going to do to my charge if I didn’t come? This didn’t start with us. We didn’t start the war with you. We didn’t enslave you. I’ve seen how you casually butcher Clairvoyants just for study. None of you seem to even notice the brutality!”
“Brutality?” Rauon said with a start. “A Clairvoyant speaks to me about brutality! My entire family is dead! Billions of innocent sortens are dead! And do you weep for them? I heard of the cheers throughout the Terran Empire when it was announced that the core of their most hated enemy was utterly destroyed. By your own words, terrans house their own children in vast facilities to do nothing but learn how to kill! You fear and hate us, but one of your newborns could rip our arms and legs off with a thought. And you wonder why we fret…”
“This is insane!” Carmen said with clenched fists. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so by now!”
“Yes, I agree. Insanity. But what do I have to thank for your prudence?” Rauon asked. “You disapprove of our methods. Well, I don’t blame you. I used to cry myself to sleep every night when I first started here.” The comment caught Carmen’s attention. He continued. “I regret a lot of what I had to do for this project. I always hoped the collision course of our two species could be averted. I wished we could come to some sort of understanding. Then I lost everything I ever knew with the destruction of the home worlds. That was when I realized madness, true madness, is merely a factor of guilt. That is what justifies my actions. The knowledge that my work here, whatever its price, will go on to protect untold numbers of sortens far into the future from you and your kind.”
The sorten said nothing else for a long moment. Carmen made no reply as her thoughts turned inward. Then Rauon nodded to one of the security personnel, who pressed his weapon against Phaethon’s temple.
“What of you, Edge?” the head technician said. “I’ve seen how you look at Caelus. How much more would it take for your prudence to waver? What will it take for you to hate us, if you don’t already?”
Carmen looked away and reflected on one simple fact. Her life, either directly or indirectly, had been almost completely dictated by sortens. From her time at the facility, which was modeled on sorten treatment of Clairvoyants, to why she was here now, it was all influenced by them in some way. S
he truly was the wolf in the forest. She thought back to how Kali spoke of sortens, how Eli spoke of sortens, how every Clairvoyant she had ever met spoke of sortens. They weren’t unjustified. The horrors she’d seen in just the past few days were a testament to that. Except…the mirror image seemed just as true.
She looked at Rauon, her mind racing to place a million thoughts into a few words. “I don’t want to hate anyone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I want…I want to stay good.”
Rauon looked at her in utter silence. He rose to his full height, towering over everyone, before he diminished, as if releasing a great exhale.
“So do I,” he said.
The Clairvoyant and the sorten looked each other in the eye for a long moment. She didn’t read him. She didn’t have to.
“All I want is my charge,” she said softly, holding her hands high to be as nonthreatening as possible.
Rauon glanced at Phaethon and then at Carmen, who gave an encouraging nod. One of the security members stiffened.
“You can’t seriously be contemplating that?” the guard asked.
Rauon didn’t even glance in the security member’s direction. “I’m not contemplating it. I’m doing it,” he said as he turned to Phaethon. Then he motioned to Carmen with his head. “Go.”
The boy began walking toward her. The sortens watched him leave. Carmen dropped her hands, unable to help an unabashed smile. But the feeling went away when she looked at Phaethon. His eyes were particularly drawn to her burnt face, reflecting a sort of pained disgust. It was then that a spark was lit. She had seen the look more times than she cared to count, usually at the end of their chess games. She shook her head slowly while her eyes gave a silent plea.
“No!” she screamed, leaping toward her charge.
But it was already too late. He turned his head and extended his arm. She grabbed him just as he shot his heat beam. She screamed from the pain of their interacting energies and was only able to spoil his aim enough to keep him from hitting Rauon full on. The beam instead hit him just below the waist, severing his legs. The sorten gave a pained cry of surprise before he fell into the burning pile of his own legs. The corridor filled with his desperate screams as he burned. The sorten security responded promptly, training their weapons on the threat. But by that time, Phaethon had been able to shake Carmen off him, and he burned the sortens down where they stood.
Carmen lay on the ground, her mouth agape. Rauon writhed and struggled in a vain attempt to escape the flames consuming him. She telekinetically snuffed the fire out before she looked up at her charge, who stood silhouetted in the dark by flames and the flashing lights of the alarm.
He looked down upon her. “You may not hate them,” he said, “but I do!” Then he ran off down the corridor.
“Phaethon!” she called, but he didn’t even look back.
She took a few quick steps after him before stopping in place. She was torn. Fists clenched, she ran to Rauon’s aid while, over her shoulder, she watched her charge disappear down the corridor. The sorten was burned over most of his body. His legs were well and truly gone. He struggled to breathe, and Carmen didn’t know what she could do. By instinct, she reached out to touch him, but long forgotten fears made her stop short.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said over and over again, her voice breaking.
Rauon looked up at her. “Go, Edge. Go to your charge,” he said, weak and pained.
Carmen only leaned back slightly. “I can’t leave you here alone.”
“This is Solitary,” he said after a groan. “Go.”
She took a few hesitant steps away.
“Go,” he said again. “Go!”
She took off down the corridor after Phaethon. Rauon’s voice echoed after her.
“Madness! This place is madness!” he yelled.
Carmen had never run so hard in her life. Her legs were almost a blur. Her body screamed at her, but she was too fatigued to fly. She could still sense Phaethon. That, however, wasn’t her only guide. She guessed the sortens had sent reinforcements, because their dismembered bodies made a bloody trail of bread crumbs. Her lip curled in disgust. This was more than murder. Most of the sortens weren’t even dead, at least not yet. Body parts were littered everywhere she could see. She even slipped and slid in the blood after making a tight turn. Screams of pain lashed out at her with such force that she screamed as well, simply to try to drown them out, while the smell of burned, melted flesh filled her every pore.
Eventually, her body protested too loudly and she had to stop. Her throat felt like it was on fire and her legs throbbed with each rapid-fire pulse of her heart. She looked down the corridor at the insane, bloody chaos. Just then, a construct grabbed her by her ankle, begging for his life. She wrestled her foot free after a small yelp of surprise. Next, a sorten reached out for her.
“Help,” he muttered, blood spilling from his mouth. “Help me.”
Carmen’s eyes grew wide as the violence reached out for her. She seemed neck-deep in it. She ran off, not really after Phaethon but just to get away. Yet, over and over again, they came at her. She closed her eyes, but the image beset her still. It was all that there was. It was all there ever was. Every direction she turned and every avenue she took made no difference. Here, trapped in the dark, there were no illusions, no comforting rationalizations, and no escape.
She spoke to the victims, though she talked to no one in particular. In truth, she was more talking to herself. Her words were of no consequence—just trifles she had used to comfort herself back at the facility. They came forth with no real thought or effort. It was just a small ritual, of her many, to forget the horrors of the day. But they no longer seemed to be working.
She went through one of the hidden hatches and stopped. A sorten stood in front of her. He had a bad wound to the chest.
“He killed me,” he said as he staggered toward her. “He…he killed me. I’m…dying.”
The sorten practically fell on her. The pain of touching a Clairvoyant was plainly visible on his face, and it continued until she was able to weaken her bioelectric field. She struggled to support his weight.
“There’s nothing I can do,” she said softly. She wasn’t even sure the sorten heard her.
“Don’t go,” he pleaded, his voice weak. “Stay with me. Stay with…”
His eyes were still open. Carmen tried to avoid looking at their haunting emptiness as she eased him down. Just then, she heard a comforting voice. It seemed to pierce the insanity like rays of sun through dark clouds.
“Edge, make your way to The Lady. I will meet you there,” Inertia said through Solitary’s intercom system.
Leaving hadn’t really crossed her mind at this point. She was aware consciously that she needed to, she had to, but that impossible goal had never even entered her wildest imagination. It felt like she’d been stuck in Solitary’s insane maze her whole life, doomed to circle its endless corridors for eternity, so lost that she didn’t know there was an exit.
She had to find Phaethon. He was nowhere to be seen, but she could still sense him. She was still surrounded by hands reaching out to her or severed limbs attempting to do the same, seeking salvation from a Clairvoyant after another had struck them down. It was hard to tell whether they were begging for mercy or trying to drag her down. She shook her head as the overwhelming mass gnawed at her. There were so many. She’d killed before—seen dead bodies before. One or two at a time, and maybe even a few or a small pile, but not the lot of them all at once. It was too much to take. In a fit of exasperation, Carmen took to the air. The death was with her still. It would always be with her. But at least she was no longer deep in the muck of the fallen as she flew along the ceiling.
The Clairvoyant streaked toward her charge, sensing the life slip away from each and every sorten as he killed them. At least his malevolence slowed him down. It was always hard to read Phaethon, but she was close enough now to get an impression. He wasn’t the fiery ball of anger she expect
ed. No, he seemed scared, terrified even, and the feeling grew in intensity the closer she got.
Indeed, she caught a small glimpse of Phaethon far down a corridor, and that only made her charge press on harder.
“Phaethon!” she called. “Phaethon, stop!”
There was no response. He killed two more sortens, making it a point to maim them just enough so they’d barely be alive when he finished. The task slowed him considerably, though it made Carmen wince throughout. She could almost touch him now.
Phaethon seemed desperate to get away. He took to the air as well and jetted away from his handler. She found some hidden reserve, and it was just enough to keep him in sight. Her opportunity came when he slowed to go through a hatch.
She tackled him. He gave a loud grunt from the pain, but she didn’t care. Their momentum sent them tumbling down the corridor, but she didn’t loosen her grip as they went end over end. When they finally came to a stop, Carmen got on top of him and pinned her charge to the ground. He shocked her. He screamed at her. He cursed and spit at her. But she held firm.
“No more!” she yelled over his protests. “Not like this. We’re not monsters!”
“How can you say that? Of course we are!” Phaethon sounded like he was on the verge of crying. “That’s what we were turned into.”
Carmen looked him in the eye and saw herself reflected back. She felt drained in mind, body, and spirit, but one small ember kept her from failing completely. “Except we don’t have to stay that way,” she said.
Phaethon turned his head and looked at the dead sortens down the passageway. His expression wasn’t one of sadistic triumph, but there wasn’t an indifferent lack of recognition either. When he turned to his handler, his entire being seemed to deflate.
“This is all that there is,” is replied. “This is all there ever is.”
Carmen looked away and couldn’t stop her eyes from falling, if only slightly. “We have to try. What else can we do?”
“I don’t deserve anything else,” he said.
She paused. “Well, this is a bit different from overturning the chessboard when you’re losing,” she said after a deep breath. Phaethon looked at her but made no reply. “If you don’t deserve it, then neither do I. Perhaps no one deserves redemption. I know one thing, though. I’m tired of being trapped in places like this.”