by G. R. Lyons
Gods, forgive me, Benash thought as he stepped forward, pressed his gun to the prisoner's head, and pulled the trigger.
The man crumpled to the ground between the two officers, and the rage drained out of the Elder's face.
“Finally, someone around here who knows how to follow orders,” the Elder said with an approving nod. “You two, haul that down to the Pit. Officer Benash, if you would be so kind…”
He gestured at the door, and Benash hurried to unlock it and let him out. The Elder gathered himself up and strode away with as much dignity as he could muster while the two officers struggled to lift the dead body and haul it from the room. Once they were gone, Benash pulled the door shut and locked it again, sighing heavily once he was alone with the jailed prisoners.
Don't…say…anything, he told Vorena.
Wasn't going to, she replied. The guilt in your eyes is plain enough.
He turned from the door and looked in the direction of her cell without actually being able to see her face. What, no moralizing on my behavior? I just killed a man!
And I know why you did it. He could practically feel her shrug when she paused. Doesn't make it right, but it's done. Besides, it was probably merciful, come to think of it. A faster, less painful death than he would have had down here.
Benash knew the others couldn't hear their conversation, but as though one of them had read Vorena's mind, one man asked in a meek voice, “We're all going to die down here, aren't we?”
Benash looked around to see who had spoken—it was one of the newcomers—and gave him a questioning look.
“I mean,” the man continued, “the Elder…He said there's a Collision coming. He means for us all to die down here, doesn't he? That's why he brought us all here, isn't it?”
Benash walked slowly to the center of the room, glancing over at Vorena as he moved. She reclined back on her elbows and raised an eyebrow at him. He stopped, hands on his hips, and sighed.
“Yes,” he finally answered the man, realizing without a doubt that it was the truth. “He brought you all here to die.”
Chapter 33
SO, DO I ever get to know what the diversion was for?
Benash looked up, startled by the sudden intrusion of Vorena's mental voice through the silence in the cavern. He'd expected an outcry at the news that the Elders intended everyone to die in the Collision, but instead the cavern had filled with nothing but resigned quiet.
Without looking at her, Benash leaned against one of the crumbling stone pillars and crossed his arms.
Look at the prisoners across from you, he answered.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Vorena stand up and casually glance around the room, making it seem purposeless, until her eyes stopped on one particular cell. Benash risked a glance in her direction, wanting to see her face.
Her eyes tore away from the opposite cell and met his, a searching look on her face while a smile tugged at her lips. Benash raised an eyebrow in question, expecting some smart remark from her, but all she did was shake her head and smile as she backed away and sat down on her cot. He thought he saw a shimmer of tears in her eyes.
No words from the storyteller? he asked.
Vorena shook her head again. Seems there's hope for you after all, Hawk.
Benash turned away and made a circuit of the room, fighting a smile as he went.
As he approached the cells opposite Vorena's, he saw one cell that held two new prisoners, sitting as far apart from one another as possible. In the next cell, the long-separated lovers sat together, close but not quite touching, and looked almost afraid to even breathe, let alone move.
Benash gave them a subtle nod as he came to a stop, pretending to be absorbed in checking his sidearm.
Why'd you do it? one asked.
Benash spared them a glance, turned his head slightly to indicate Vorena's cell without looking fully over his shoulder at her, and told them, Because it was right.
The brawny men stared at him, blinking in wonder.
Just keep it discreet, he added.
Thank you, Hawk, the other said, slowly reaching for his partner's hand in the dimly lit cell. Thank you.
Benash gave them another subtle nod and walked away.
* * *
THE NEWS brought an awed silence to Benash's cavern.
The day after his visit to Sonekha, Elder Rethil—the one whom Vorena had bested in a mental assault—had died.
“Do you think she did it?” Benash heard one prisoner whisper.
“Could she have killed him?”
“Is it possible?”
“He was just an old man,” another put in. “Nothing more to it.”
Benash looked over at Vorena, who was resting on her cot in the middle of the morning instead of keeping herself active like she usually did. She'd been languid and weak ever since her brief battle with the Elder, so it made sense that the same effort had more severely impacted a much older man.
Still…
Benash glanced over at Vorena, and asked her, Did you?
From her supine position, she raised an eyebrow at him in question.
I'm not accusing. I'm just curious.
Vorena smirked and shook her head. All I did was defend myself. The Elder wore himself out, trying to break through my defenses.
Vorena, he began, then paused to consider what he was about to say. Vorena, do you realize what such power could do against the Elders? A few people with your strength could overthrow the entire system.
Vorena closed her eyes, smiling to herself. Oh, believe me, I know. Why do you think the Elders wanted you to gather information about my camp?
Benash started. How did you know that?
She opened looked at him pointedly through the bars. I told you to work on your blocks there, Hawk.
With that, Vorena closed her eyes again and fell asleep. Benash watched her for a few minutes, then turned his attention inward, examining his own mind.
* * *
TWO DAYS later, Benash was in Vhais, standing in formation with his fellow high-ranking officers of the Hawk guard. He hadn't wanted to leave the prison for another long journey to the capitol, but one simply did not refuse an invitation to an Elder's funeral.
The invitation, of course, being nothing short of a command.
Benash took the opportunity of his anonymity in the crowd to look up at the Elders arranged on a platform high above the assembled officers and citizens. Seven old men stood arranged behind a grand coffin—someone had already been elevated to the Council in Elder Rethil's place—each taking turns describing the selfless and benevolent service of the departed Elder.
Throughout it all, Benash kept his focus on guarding his mind as a rash of sinful and treasonous thoughts rose up behind his defenses.
By the gods, she was right, he thought with an inward sigh. Everything Vorena said was right.
He looked up at the old, frail men in ancient red robes, confident in their power over and control of the people, then furtively glanced around at the show of force displayed by the officers of the Eagle guard, and the entire farce made him want to laugh out loud.
Keeping his face carefully blank, Benash remained as still as he could while the speeches continued, and then fell precisely into place as the entire assembly formed a grand procession, marching the Elder to his final resting place: an individually marked space in the grand mausoleum.
Benash clenched his jaw and struggled to hide any outward signs of his thoughts. He wanted to lash out in disgust at the whole display. Here they were, showing honor to a weak and corrupt old man, while someone like Vorena—someone stronger than the Elders, and, in fact, more worthy of recognition—would end up as just another faceless, charred body in the Pit.
It's all wrong, he thought. All of it. By the gods, she was right about all of it.
When the ceremony was over and the officers were finally dismissed, it was all Benash could do to resist the urge to run.
* * *
THE PRISONERS made such a ruckus that Benash could hear the shouting all the way from the outer gate as he arrived on his first day back from the capitol.
What in the gods' names…
He hurried down the tunnel and walked right past the clerk's desk without checking in. The man wasn't at his post anyway, but standing with a few other officers near the entrance to Benash's cell cavern, craning their necks at the commotion within.
Benash shoved one of the officers aside, put his keys to the lock, and let himself in.
Vorena's cell door stood open, and as he rapidly crossed the cavern, Benash saw three officers in the cell, tearing at the woman's clothes.
Without a second thought, Benash reached into the cell, grabbed the nearest officer, Garl, by the back of his coat, and threw him across the cavern. The man crashed against the bars of a cell and slumped to the ground, and Benash just caught a glimpse of the prisoners within reaching through the bars to restrain the man while Benash turned back to Vorena's cell.
He pulled out both his guns, and leveled them at the other two officers attempting to rape Vorena while she lay there, limp as a blade of grass in the heat of summer.
“Get. Out. Now,” he ordered.
The officers—two boys on the night shift that Benash didn't recognize—put their hands up and slowly emerged from the cell, keeping their eyes on his weapons the whole time as he circled around them, driving them back toward the cavern door and staying between them and their intended victim.
“But Benash,” one officer pleaded, “the Elder said we could–”
“She's not claimed–”
“We could all take a turn–”
Garl finally tore himself away and gained his feet, storming toward Benash as he growled, “You traitorous bastard! I'll–”
Benash spun around and struck Garl on the side of the head with his gun, then shoved his guns back into their holsters so he could easily grab the man. In his rage, Benash threw him so hard that he slammed against the inner gate and fell clumsily to his backside once again.
“ENOUGH!” Benash roared.
Chest heaving, Benash looked at each officer in turn. Without a second thought, he strode to the guard desk, ripped the Hawk badge from his coat, and slammed it down on the splintered surface. Then he spun on his heel, grabbed his keys, and marched straight into Vorena's cell.
He quickly found the right key, slammed the door shut, and reached through to twist the key in the lock. Stunned silent, his fellow officers gathered just outside the cell, staring at him as he yanked the keys from the lock and threw them straight at Garl. In his shock, the man didn't react to the volley, so the keys struck his Hawk badge with a dull clink and fell to his feet.
“Benash…” one officer asked, mouth agape and wide-eyed. “What are you doing?”
In response, Benash widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest, leveling a glare at them.
“Benash?” another officer asked, his tone breathy with confusion and concern. “Why?”
Meeting their eyes in turn in a way he'd never attempted before, Benash pointed back at Vorena and roared, “Because she is better than all of us!” He took a deep breath and huffed it out his nose. “And if anyone ever attempts to harm her again, he'll have to go through me first.”
His rival gave an evil laugh and bent to scoop up the discarded keys, but as he straightened to approach the cell, he found Benash's pistols both aimed at his chest through the bars.
The man narrowed his eyes, shaking the ring of keys at Benash. “You're not an officer anymore. You'll be handing those over.”
“No, I think I'll keep these,” Benash answered with a smile.
The two men stared at one another for a long moment while the rest of the cavern seemed to hold its breath.
“Fine,” Garl barked, stepping away. “Much good they'll do you in there.”
The man stormed away, leaving the other officers to gape at the strange sight of one of their own behind bars.
“But, Benash…” one said, swallowing nervously. “There's a Collision coming. The Elder said so.” He paused, and added emphatically, “You'll die down here!”
Benash holstered his weapons and looked back at Vorena. For the first time in his life, his mind was clear and certain.
“I know.”
Looking thoroughly confused, the officers eventually shuffled away, leaving the cavern feeling oddly silent and empty. Benash reached out and gripped the bars with one hand, shook his head with a bit of a smile on his face, and started to turn away.
Hawk–
Benash looked through the bars again and saw many of the prisoners staring at him—some in shock, and others looking as though justice had finally been served by putting one of the oppressors behind bars—but focused his attention on the one who'd called out to him. The reunited lovers were both standing at the door of their cell, looking at him intently, and he felt both their minds reaching toward his, though only one of them had spoken.
It'd be an honor to die down here with you, Hawk, one told him, and the other nodded agreement.
Benash stared at them for a moment before a smile crossed his face. No, he said, shaking his head. He glanced back at Vorena again and returned his steady gaze to them. No, the honor is mine.
Chapter 34
AFTER WAITING several minutes to make sure his fellow officers weren't going to return and threaten more violence, Benash turned and scooped up Vorena, laying her carefully upon the cot.
You didn't have to go all heroic on me, she teased, though her inner voice was weak. I had them right where I wanted them.
Of course you did, Benash replied, laughing despite himself. Are you alright?
Vorena forced her eyes open, looked like she was about to spout off with a typical sarcastic response, but instead she sighed. No. No, I'm not. Those fucking bastards waited until I had an attack this morning before they came in here, though I heard them planning it the whole time you were gone. Idiots have worse blocks than you.
With that, she sighed again and closed her eyes, and Benash gently straightened her clothes and covered her with a sheet.
Rest, he murmured. I won't let them near you.
* * *
“JEVON! JEVON!”
Jevon set down his hammer and looked up, groaning as he straightened his back. The faint voice came from one of the rebels at the end of the long, makeshift drive, running up the hill toward him. Jevon turned and gulped water from a bottle while he waited.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced around. In the faint light of the setting suns, he saw several people spread out over the land, busy with their myriad tasks. Some tended a new garden while others carefully measured and cut materials for building a fence, and still others were tending fires for cooking the nightly meal.
Jevon turned, and in every direction, he saw land that belonged not to a government, but to themselves.
When they'd come through the Gate and arrived on Agoran, they found themselves high up on a hillside, overlooking a glorious city that sparkled in the light of the suns. The first several days had been difficult, as they had to learn that everything on Agoran was either unclaimed or the private, chosen property of some one person or another.
Unlike on Tanas, where everything was either communal or assigned.
Many of the rebels quickly found work, and they fell into routines of performing tasks to earn a living, and used their wages to buy necessary supplies and shelter.
When they started seeking out places to live, Jevon applied to a property management company, hoping to learn the name of the person who owned the land around the Gate, intending to notify the owner of their trespassing on his land and see what amends he could make.
To his surprise, he learned the land was unclaimed.
“Unclaimed?” he'd asked the woman who represented the company.
“No one holds title to it,” she explained, and pointed at a digital map—a kind of technology that seemed like nothin
g short of magic to Jevon—outlining a large section of land with her fingertip. “All this land here has no owners. It seems no one wants land that can be accessed by people from another Isle.”
“And how can one acquire this land?” Jevon asked, his heart racing, wondering how much he would have to work to earn it.
“Simple,” the woman said patiently. “Put a fence around it, make improvements on it, and it's yours.”
Jevon stared at her. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. Though, I might recommend hiring a surveyor and filing a declaration that you've claimed the land, just to announce your rights to the property. I can give you the names of several excellent insurance and mediation companies. They can help you in any instance of someone violating your property rights through trespass or damage.”
Jevon gaped at the map, speechless at the idea of having something that belonged to him that he had chosen, rather than just using something that was assigned.
“How is it possible?” he breathed.
The woman smiled at him. “No one wants the land, and you do. What's to stop you?” She paused, and tilted her head to one side. “Would it be of use to you?”
Jevon nodded. “Yes. Yes, very much, indeed.”
Standing on that very land, seeing a fence go up around the border he'd chosen, Jevon still marveled at the reality of it. He and his fellow rebels owned land! Actual land! And soon there would be a home there to replace their tents, giving shelter to those who had not yet found places to live in the city itself.
And later, Jevon thought, looking back up the hill at the Gate, a transition house for those we rescue from Tanas. Gods, the possibilities!
He was exhausted from having worked most of the day and then laboring at construction on the property in the evenings, but for the first time in his life, he felt like he had purpose and a goal. There was still much to learn about life on the only free Isle in the world, but he felt lighthearted, knowing he could now have the means to help others transition away from their enslavement.
“Jevon!” his fellow panted, having finally reached him. The man bent forward and planted his hands on his knees, taking a moment to catch his breath. “I just heard, down in the city. Tanas is set to strike Ceynes in four days!”