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Sometimes the truth is better than the consequences.
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Truth And Consequences
By: M. J. Cogburn and C. E. Krawiec
PART
ONE
*You
are as lovely as your mother* he thought to her. *And I know how you’ve
wondered through the years, Tala, about your family…who they were,* he
pondered silently, *…your longing to belong. But before you knew of your
heritage, your family, I deemed it best and more important that you learn
self-sufficiency and independence., first, and you have made me proud, my child.
Even in your mistakes and failures, Tala, you have made your father proud.*
Lothos
paused in his silent monologue to just watch his second born as she slept.
*Soon…. Very soon, Tala, we will talk and you will learn that which you’ve
yearned for these many years - you will know your heritage.. But for now, rest,
my child.* As that thought ended, he totally shifted his viewing to Zoë
Malvison’s room where she, too, slept, keeping vigil over them as he had
always done.
Throughout
the day as the life and business of the complex continued under Lothos order and
direction, he kept watch over Tala. The day had begun to wane, the sun already
edging downward toward the horizon when Lothos at last noted Tala waking.
"Good morning, Tala," he said quietly, watching as she stirred and
stretched in her bed.
Hearing Lothos speaking to her as she began to stretch in bed, Tala
hummed at the really quite pleasant, even, she might say, gentle, sound of his
greeting. Keeping her eyes closed, she rolled her head around on the pillow a
moment before finally opening her eyes then slowly sitting up in her bed.
"Evening is more like it…isn't it?" she asked, yawning half with
through the observation. Even as she replied to Lothos, Tala hoped that she
hadn't slept through the stress test that she was certain that Dr. Hugen had
rescheduled for her this evening; that would really put her butt in a sling. The
idea of facing Dr. Hugen’s stern gaze while trying to assure him that no, she
hadn’t deliberate overslept, did not appeal to her. She remembered the last
time she’d had that particular sort of encounter. The first time hadn’t been
any fun, and the second time was all the convincing she had needed to not miss
any other appointments unless she had a darned good reason… such as she’d
been kidnapped by aliens. The thought caused a sleepy smile to cross her lips as
she lazily turned her head to look over at the clock; it was 6:33 P.M.
"Technically,
you are correct, Tala," Lothos responded plainly. "Now, wash and
dress. We have much to discuss before you report to Dr. Hugen for your stress
test."
It
would have been so nice and oh so easy to let her eyelids droop shut for an
additional five minutes, but Tala instead rose quickly from her bed, yawning.
After showering she dressed in a black Lycra bodysuit and left her quarters. She
considered that she must look rather an odd sight as she walked down the
corridors, her light makeup just right and wearing the dark, body-hugging Lycra
outfit, and her long auburn hair still wet but combed. After the first two or
three odd glances that she intercepted, Tala stopped counting. Dismissing the
looks and the people giving them, she headed down to the Control Center where
she waited patiently to be admitted into Central Control where Lothos was.
When
the door opened before her at last, Tala entered and walked immediately to the
solid red circle in the center of the floor some fifteen feet in front the
almost wall-sized computer panel as required by every person or persons summoned
to Lothos’ presence. Stepping into the circle, she bowed her head respectfully
to Lothos before speaking. "Yes, Lothos?" she questioned with the
utmost respect.
"Sit
if you wish, Tala," he instructed her, watching her retrieve the chair at
her workstation after pulling it back to the red circle in the center of the
room. Lothos barely waited long enough for her to get comfortable when he
launched into what he meant to say. "You have asked me before about your
parentage. What would you like to know?"
Over
the years Tala had asked Lothos very respectfully couched questions concerning
her who her parents were, but had never received any sort of a response. Now as
looked up at the red orb before and above her, she was more than a bit surprised
at the point blank delivery of Lothos’ statement, unsure how to start, what
question to ask first. There were so many questions... so many that went back to
when she was a little girl and wondering why others in the project had mothers
and fathers, and she didn't.
Pondering
on what to ask first, Tala remembered thinking, when she was old enough to
understand what the word meant, that she was an orphan, a child with parents or
any family. But even that simple, reasoning was confused because she had never
been sent to the orphanage on the complex’s fourth level, being raised instead
by a series of nannies. Only her education with other children had allowed her
to feel as if she belonged to someone, some sort of family group. But the
degrees of carefreeness of primary school and high school had faded when,
instead of being allowed to travel away from the complex for a university
education, Tala was tutored and educated within the complex by some of the
finest minds at the collegiate level from around the world per Lothos' orders.
But even as her mind was stretched as her education advanced, all of the focus
on her had only served to subtly distance her from the friends she had made in
school.
Oh,
they all still talked and even socialized from time to time, but her being
singled out by Lothos for such special attention had the unfortunate effect of
them interacting with Tala...carefully, as if no longer feeling comfortable
enough to banter and talk as they did with each other. And gradually Tala had
accepted the fact and made the best of the situation that was her lot in life.
She got a job and worked hard at it. She shopped in the mall and dined in the
restaurants on the second level, alone. And she did have a very small handful of
friends but rarely accepted their invitations. After the first time of observing
the way the other guests had behaved politely around her - she had accepted an
invitation to attend a surprise party for one of the girls – she had become a
loner, learning to entertain herself and how to be alone. Yet through it all,
though she hadn’t voiced such the question until yesterday, it had always been
there, waiting to be answered: Who were my
parents?
When
Tala didn't immediately respond to his question, Lothos took the initiative.
"Would
you care to know about your mother, who she is and why she has not raised you
personally?" he asked.
Tala
blinked at his question, looking up at the red orb as if it were Lothos’ face.
Was he just going to come right out and tell her now? Searching the floor before
looking back up at 'him', she finally made her mouth work.
"I...
I want to know everything about my parents; both my father and my mother.
But…I don't understand, Lothos. Why are you telling me now, when you've known
that I've been searching for the answers?" Lothos’ answer was logical yet
enigmatic.
"I
deemed it necessary to withhold such information until such time that it became
necessary to tell you," Lothos stated clearly. "Certain events have
now made it necessary that you be given the information you have sought. What I
did was done in your best interests, so that you would develop your own sense of
self rather than for you to attempt to fit a mold based on your parentage."
He paused to focus on her eyes, seeing in them her confusion about his words.
"At this moment, however, your mother is in serious condition. I
believe that you should come to know her to help her."
Tala
listened carefully to what Lothos was saying. However, when he mentioned that
her mother was in a serious condition and that, perhaps because of her
mother’s condition, she should now come to know her, Tala couldn’t help but
feel several different things at once. Worry for her mother, even though she
hadn't known her at all; had, for her entire life to this moment, thought she
was dead. And there was the anger; anger toward the one who had kept this
information from her.
Why
is it only now, when one of my parents is in a life-threatening situation, that
I get to know them?
Tala thought
bitterly to herself even as she clamped down on her teeth and slightly ground
them as she took a deep breath before opening my mouth. For certain, she
didn’t want to say anything that she might come to regret. "What has happened to her that she is now in a serious
condition? Is she ill?"
Lothos
noted the color that began to rise in Tala’s face at his last words. He
continued to watch as the flush in her cheeks darkened as her temper began to
rise.
"She
has been violently attacked by our enemies. She was shot in the back and will
never walk again."
Tala
swallowed hard, her, to her way of thinking, righteous anger at being kept a
stranger from her parents all these years, momentarily blindsiding her, as
Lothos succinct statement got through her anger.
‘The
only person that I know of in the project that was just shot by our enemies was
Dr.
Zoë Malvison, and if he is saying that she is my mother... he's got to be
joking!’ Tala’s thoughts
jostled and tumbled in her mind, not certain which way to turn next.
"Dr.
Malvison?" she asked softly, uncertain wonder in her voice. "Are you
saying that Dr. Malvison is my… my mother?" For a moment she tried to
hide the awe in her voice. But her anger continued to rise when she thought
again of all the years she was denied getting to know her mother.
The woman whom she had passed who knows how many times in the hall, had
spoken to and received orders from on not a few occasions, a woman she could
barely stand. With all of that considered, Tala was still angry over being
denied for so long the right to know who her mother was.
Lothos
was not in the least surprised at the anger and surprise in Tala’s voice. His
only observation was to compare her to her mother... Just
like your mother...so full of fire... before responding to her question.
"Yes,
Tala, Dr. Zoë Malvison is your mother," Lothos stated in a clear, even
voice. He watched her face closely, as he added, "Now you can understand
the reason that you have clashed with her so often. It is because you two are so
much alike."
Hearing
Lothos stating that Zoë Malvison was her mother was more than Tala could take
sitting down. Instantly she rose from her chair and began to pace. It was almost
more than could be believed! Not only was he telling her that her mother was
someone that she honestly couldn’t stand, but she – Tala – was also like
her. Just the thought of being compared to Zoe Malvison was enough to send her
temper soaring for new heights. Somewhere in the midst of her pacing, Zoë and
Lothos’ oldest daughter at last found her tongue.
"May
I speak freely, Lothos?" she asked as her breathing began to increase.
Lothos
drew again from his recorded memories of his human experiences, specifically the
times when he and Zoë worked, argued, laughed, fought, and loved. He reviewed
every memory and saw the distillation of both of them in the plainly angry young
woman pacing before him. And he liked what he was seeing.
‘This
is exactly what I want from you, Tala,’
Lothos
mused to himself. ‘To see that feisty
spirit to learn and question which you inherited from your mother come to life
in you, my child. "You
may," he replied.
Tala
stopped pacing when Lothos gave her the freedom to speak plainly, something that
this conversation warranted in spades.
"You
have just told me that I've been working alongside my mother for the past three
years and you haven't bothered to tell me, until now? Until she is...sentenced
to a life in a bed or a wheelchair? And now you have the audacity to tell me
that I'm like her?" Tala paused in her pacing behind the chair and grasped
the top of the chair with both hands, needing something to grab onto…wanting
something to throw. And there was no such thing as permitting Lothos to answer
her question. No, he had set off a massive volume of anger and fury within her,
and Tala had every intention of venting it, right here and right now.
"So
why was I shirked to the side like a cloth all tattered and torn? Was I not up
to her standards when I was born? Or was it something totally different? What of
my father? Who is he, and why wasn't he involved in my life?" All the
questions that Tala had ever wanted to ask, all of them were now vented,
wanting, nay demanding to be answered. "Like I said earlier, Lothos, I want
to know everything."
If
another person had accidentally gained access to Central Control at that moment
and seen Tala’s behavior and witnessed her angry demands of Lothos, they would
have made an even hastier retreat. Of course, none did, and Lothos took his
daughter’s strong, not unexpected reaction in stride…for the moment.
"Zoë
is was never a maternally-minded woman," Lothos began. "She was less
than thrilled when she discovered she was pregnant, and she reacted, as I had
suspected she would, during her labor. It was a very long, and exceedingly
painful labor for her. During her delivery, she spoke without thinking, and Dr.
Grant took her words quite literally." He paused an instant to allow her to
take that in then continued. "I am sure, that had Dr. Hugen been the
attending physician, he would have allowed Zoë a chance to calm down. However,
Dr. Grant did not do so, and placed you in the main care facility. When it comes
to the health of the people in this facility, Dr. Grant has the final say. He
decided, based on Zoë's reaction to her labor, and even more so during her
delivery, that you would be... safer... if you were separated from her. At the
time, I concurred."
Tala’s
mouth gaped open at his last words. "For 24 years?" She exploded at
him. "How is that healthy for a child to not know of her mother for those
formative years when a child needs her mother...years when *I* needed her?
Shouldn’t Dr. Grant have thought of that?" she spat furiously, glaring up
at the large red orb affixed above and slightly in front of Lothos’ main
console as she dropped down on the chair again, seething, feeling her blood
pressure beginning to rise even as she sat there.
"Zoë
would most likely have throttled you the first time you cried for no apparent
reason," her told her bluntly. "In your temperament," he
continued, "you take decidedly more after your father. But in some aspects
your temper is similar to your mother’s." He noted how that word
–mother- caught her back for an instant. "Can you sit there and honestly
say that you would be patient with a crying child?"
Twenty-four
hours ago, nay even twenty-four minutes ago, anyone who might have suggested to
Tala that she would sitting alone in Central Control and screaming angrily at
Lothos, she would have called them crazy. Now as she heard him ask the question,
mentally she screamed *Hell no!* though she verbally responded, "If it were
mine... and needed love... I would do anything... ANYTHING for her or him."
"Including
realizing that you are not the best mother for the child?" Lothos posed the
question to her. Yet again, from some bit of his own fragmented memories of his
former human existence, Lothos recalled flashes of some angry confrontations
with Tala’s mother.
"Zoë,"
he told her, the tone of his voice altering ever so subtly, "knew this
immediately. She knew that she would have been a terrible mother... and that she
herself would have been punished because of her failure to tend to you as was
needed."
It
was so mind-boggling a revelation that all Tala could do was shake her head at
his words. "And what of my father?" she demanded, jumping to her feet
and marching several steps toward the main console, her eyes blazing, at that
moment not thinking of nor caring what Lothos might do for such brazen display
of audacity. Tala, she whose temper rarely was ever stirred, now let it lead her
to do something she had never for a moment –till now- entertained doing...
getting in Lothos’ face.
"Tell
me," she demanded, when she finally stopped less than four feet from
Lothos’ main console. "My father…was he of the same realization…that
he would be a terrible father? Or was he one of those men who impregnate a woman
and then leave, never to be seen or heard from again?" From somewhere in
the maelstrom of the fury seething inside her, Tala still found it hard to
believe; that after all of her research to learn something, anything, about her
parents, that this was the outcome. And that thought released another geyser of
her, until now, untapped temper. "Answer me!" she shouted, stamping
one foot furiously.
‘Now
the moment comes,’
Lothos considered as he adjusted his view of his daughter’s face, focusing
closely on her eyes as if looking into them, wanting to see her reaction to his
next words.
"I
have always watched you,"
Lothos state clearly and calmly. "Just
as I always will, my child."
Those few words did what nothing else could have at that moment,
dissipating Tala’s fury so suddenly that she stumbled backward, her eyes wide,
disbelief naked in her face as she listened to Lothos’ words…."I've
always watched you, just as I always will, my child," ricocheting and
repeating in her mind. She didn’t know how she managed to find the chair
again, just vaguely gratefully that she did as she sank down on it. She sat
there, stunned, then blinked once before closing her eyes and lowering her head.
"Why didn't you tell me long ago?" she asked, her questioning tones
low and highly agitated and barely controlled when she spoke again.
"If
I had, you would have been known as Lothos' daughter, not as Tala. Your
individuality would have been shattered." Lothos could see that she was
becoming agitated again, her anger rising once more almost to the point of
exploding; in the next second it did.
Renewed
anger at the deception she’d been dealt throughout her life, brought Tala
leaping up from the chair, sending it flying back against the wall as she swiped
at it with her hands.
"To
hell with individuality! I can't believe that you kept this from me! HOW DARE
YOU?!" she screamed, fury now boiling in her blood.
Lothos
had allowed his daughter latitude of such unheard of leniency in addressing him,
that none living in the complex would have dreamed of. But daughter or not,
there were certain lines that one didn’t cross, things you didn’t do, even
if you had been sired by Lothos.
"YOU
ARE OUT OF LINE, TALA!" Lothos’ voice reverberated loudly in the room,
warning clear in his tone, giving her a taste of the temper that her own
resembled.
So
hot was her anger that Tala didn’t recognize the beginning of the asthma
attack coming on. Usually she felt the first warning prickles of an impending
attack, but not this time. This time the attack didn’t just bubble up, this
time it exploded in her. Even the wheezing that was becoming more pronounced as
the seconds ticked by didn’t seem to phase Tala as she spat back, "So are
you…Father."
Lothos’
benevolent mood, a rarity in itself, had vanished. Now in it’s place, was the
attitude that Tala and everyone knew. Only this time, it was directed solely at
her. Regardless of whom was speaking, Lothos allowed no one to address him with
such vehemence or disrespect, and that included his daughter.
"Take
care, Tala. Do not think that because you are my daughter that I will not treat
you as I treat everyone in this complex," he said, his voice silky and
quiet, a sure sign that his anger was approaching a peak. Yet even in his first
clash with one of his daughters, Lothos had kept close attention on Tala’s
physical reaction. At the same time of warning her, he spoke through one of Dr.
Grant's ear implants, ordering him to Central Control.
Tala
gasped and shook her head in a van attempt to ward off the wheezing and the
dizziness that she was beginning to experience. Her response came out softly
amidst the wheezes. "So I've seen." Looking down at the floor, she
then closed her eyes as it now became a mental effort to breathe. Damn
you! Damn you, damn your machine, and damn your mistress!
Lothos
watched in silence as Tala struggled to breathe. You
must learn, my child, that no matter who you are, you are still only a
servant…my servant...and that your life is in my hands.
He
continued to watch without comment when Dr. Edward Grant entered Central
Control, bowed his head in respectful acknowledgement before walking up to Tala,
a small oxygen bottle and a mask in his hand.
In
the silence that descended over the room, to Tala it seemed that her wheezing
was the loudest thing in it. In the few moments between hearing Lothos’...her
father’s warning, and then hearing the door open, she fell to her knees then
slumped over, catching herself on her hands. From that position she watched the
room spin then closed her eyes in an attempt to stop the twirling.
In
the infirmary on the medical level, Edward Grant hadn’t wasted a second when
Lothos advised him of the problem in Central Control. He just grabbed a small,
portable oxygen bottle and mask and an inhaler, and hurried out of the
infirmary. Now he knelt beside Tala and put the mask over her nose and mouth
then turned on the oxygen. "Breathe," he ordered firmly as he made a
minute adjustment to the rate of the oxygen flow. "Slow and deep." He
had never been one to mince words, and his tone now, as it always had with those
he had authority over, brought instant obedience, whether medically or
otherwise. Now, Tala obeyed.
Before
she could stop the mask from being placed over her face, she heard Dr. Grant's
words. Flipping the mask off of my face nearly as fast as it had been put in
place, she lifted her head to look up at Lothos' orb above me. "This won't
... change anything..." she wheezed heavily then passed out on the floor in
a heap.
Lothos
noted and recorded every word Tala said. "I do not expect it to," he
replied as she passed out. He shifted his focus to Edward Grant. "Tend to
her for her asthma attack. Once she has recovered from it, place her in
correction for twenty-four hours for insolence." There was no need for
Lothos to say more; there was no question that Edward Grant would obey the order
just given. He knew that sometimes for the sake of his child, a father had to be
harsh.
"Yes,
Lothos," Edward responded, nodding in acknowledgement of his orders, then
called for assistance to transport Tala to the infirmary. There he made certain
that she received the necessary medicine and oxygen to help her recover from her
attack then waited for her to wake up, watching her carefully.
After
about an hour, Tala opened hers eyes and blink groggily. "Where..."
she began then paused, the sight of curtains drawn around the infirmary bed she
lay upon, answering her question. Turning her head she looked up into Dr.
Grant’s face, and the events that led to her being where she was came rolling
back into her mind. As those thoughts began to loop through her mind, she
brought her hands up to cover her face as she realized what had happened - the
asthma attack and what had triggered it. But even beyond that, Tala realized
what she was now facing - correction. The only question now was who would
administer it.
Moving
slowly and without uttering another sound, she slowly sat up on the bed, letting
her head equalize with the movement. When that was accomplished, Tala swung her
legs over the side of the bed and stood up. "Where do I need to go?"
she asked quietly, looking at Dr. Grant.
"Sit
back down," he ordered firmly. "You are not finished here as
yet." To emphasize his point, he put his hands on her shoulders and forced
her back down on the bed. "I am going to give you something to help with
the asthma attacks. Lothos does not want you to come into any danger of complete
bodily shutdown. In addition, it is time for your weekly stress test. Your
correction will begin after Dr. Hugen has finished the test." I look into
her eyes. "Fortunately for you, Lothos doesn't deem your transgression
severe enough for me to be the Torture Master for your session." Leaving
her with that thought, he turned and walked away, allowing Peter Hugen to tend
to her.
Tala
remained silent, allowing herself to be forcefully reseated on the bed. She kept
her face bland as Dr. Grant talked to her. The only chink in her expression came
when he mentioned that Lothos didn't want her to come into any danger of
complete bodily shut down. All she did was grind her teeth and then swallow as
she heard him say that he wasn't going to be her Torture Master. Tala had heard
and overheard whispered recounts of Dr. Grant's preferred methods of punishment,
and was silently thankful that Lothos didn’t deem it necessary for her to be
raped by him.
As
Dr. Hugen approached her, she looked at him before glancing down at her wrist
watch, smirking lightly as she let out a laugh that had no merriment in it
whatsoever. "Eight thirty sharp... well, looks like I made it," she
said before glancing up to him once again.
Peter’s
day was almost over, and this wasn’t the way he’d hoped for it to end.
Exhaling slowly, he shook his head at her words. "You must be a glutton for
punishment, Tala, because you never seem to listen to what I’ve told you more
times than I can count. Namely to use an inhaler for your asthma attacks."
As he spoke, Peter didn’t miss a beat as he worked.
Tala
just shook her head to his words. "I didn't think that I would have needed
it when I went to talk to Lothos," she said shortly, clasping her hands
tightly together. "I wasn't stressed until the middle of our
conversation," she added as he stopped to look at her. She shook her head
again.
Peter’s
only reaction was to raise an eyebrow at her words and then listen carefully to
her heart and lungs with a stethoscope. "Well, your breathing and
heart-rate are down to normal." Next he examined her eyes. "But you're
still under far too much stress than normal." Moving away from her to pick
up the chart on the bedside table, he compared the results with those from the
week before.
Crossing
her arms over her chest as he stepped back from her, Tala couldn’t help but
wonder at his statement. 'Now more than ever' she thought as she flipped her hair back out of
her face. Softly she smacked her lips, sighing heavily. "Will I be able to
have an inhaler during my correction?" she ventured to ask when Peter
finally closed the chart and turned back to her.
"I
am about to make that suggestion to Lothos," he responded. "I’m sure
that will be the case, given the stress level that correction is going to cause.
How often you will be able to use it, however, may be another question."
Turning his attention to the charts again, he nodded slightly to himself.
"I am going to increase slightly the potency of your inhaler. It should
help you breath more easily during future attacks." Tala nodded briefly at
his statement, unable not to morosely consider the situation.
'I
might as well not have the damn thing and just have another attack. That would
be punishment enough for my body, but obviously they want me to thoroughly be in
... no... Lothos... my FATHER... wants me to be thoroughly and completely
punished. Fine. If that's the case... so be it.'
Raising her head to focus when Dr. Hugen began to speak about the inhaler, she
nodded at him once again. Despite the anger that was mounting again, she managed
to reply more or less calmly, "Thank you, Dr. Hugen."
Peter
smiled slightly at her. "You're welcome," he said. Looking into her
eyes he added, "I know that you are going to have attacks during your
correction, so I'll see if I can't convince Lothos to be a little more lenient
considering your health."
Tala
couldn’t help but sigh heavily at his suggestion. "Although that is very
appreciated, Dr. Hugen, it isn't required. Lothos," she said, raising her
own eyebrow to him, "knows of my health... and has for quite some
time." She studied his face for a moment, her lips pursed, considering that
most likely Dr. Hugen and Dr. Grant knew everything. She couldn’t help but
shake her head as she looked into his eyes.
"Please
tell me where I need to go, Dr. Hugen. Which correction facility?" she
asked clearly as she stood up knowing that the test was over -- and since it was
over, that meant that her correction was about to begin. Might as well meet it
head on... and suffer the way *daddy* apparently wanted her to.
Peter
Hugen's only thought as he answered Tala, was that there were times when she
resembled Zoë and times when she resembled and behaved more like her father.
This was one of the times when she was clearly her father's child.
"Dr.
Grant will escort you to the cell," he said plainly. "Lothos wants a
physician available in case you have a recurrence on your way there." That
said, he turned and headed towards his office, wondering what Tala had done for
to incur Lothos' anger to the point of ordering her to be punished. Wasn't her
battle with asthma punishment enough?
Tala
watched as Dr. Hugen walked away then sighed heavily. She only had to wait a few
minutes before she saw Dr. Grant coming back over to her. Seeing the slight
raise of his eyebrow told her that he was about to take her to the Correctional
Level. Uncrossing her arms, she followed him out of the infirmary and to the
bank of three elevators in the main hallway.
In
the few moments it took to descend to the thirteenth level, Edward gave Tala a
considering look. "You can consider yourself fortunate," he told her,
"that Lothos is only going to correct you for twenty-four hours. Normally,
something like what you have done would cost three days." He just nodded to
the startled look she gave him, then permitted her to exit the elevator before
him when it stopped and the doors opened. It was a moment she would never forget
as she felt almost physically assaulted by the screams and cries of men and
women that emanated beyond the double doors to the left of the Clerk/Guard's
desk clearly marked, Correction Cells as they were punished or correction.
Tala
followed Edward Grant as he approached the desk and spoke to one of the men
behind it. She waited for him to sign a form then followed him when he took the
folder given him and proceeded through the double doors. She strove to keep her
face devoid of expression as the volume of those in agony rose and swarmed over
her as she trailed closely behind him as he walked down a hall turned left then
right, finally coming to a halt before a door marked '37'.
She watched him open the door to the cell then at his command, stepped
past him to enter before him.
For
a moment, Edward watched Tala as she stood barely inside the cell, looking
around, then followed her in, hearing the cell door close behind him.
"Strip
Tala," he ordered firmly. "Jessica, the TM assigned to
will be in momentarily to begin your correction. Until then, you will
prepare yourself."
Edward
Grant watched her with a hint of amusement as Tala removed her clothes and
placed them on a small, plain table nearby. She was a very tempting piece of
womanhood but he knew that he was not her TM for this session. 'Too
bad,' he mused to himself. 'I'd love
to hear her beg me for mercy… not that she'd get it.' As
he watched her sit on the mat provided in the small room, the door of the cell
opened and Jessica and Dr. Peter Hugen entered. He huffed with a bit of
disappointment, knowing that Tala would have a means to control her asthma.
Without another word, he left the cell.
Ignoring
Edward Grant obviousness as he left, Peter waited, watching as the TM ordered
Tala to her feet then chained her, spread-eagle, face to the wall opposite the
door. Only when the TM nodded to him, did Dr. Hugen approach her.
Showing Tala the inhaler that he had brought with him, he told her,
"Jessica will allow you to use this any time it becomes necessary,"
then handed the inhaler to the TM. "Until your correction if over, you will
answer to Jessica. Understood?"
Tala
was grateful to Dr. Hugen; he had been the one constant in this whole ordeal
that even appeared to care about her well being. She nodded to him and answered,
"Yes sir, thank you."
Peter
held her gaze a moment before going to the door where he paused and looked at TM
Jessica. "Remember Lothos' orders. You are not to punish her to the point
where she cannot breathe on her own, and she is to be given rest for five
minutes every hour." Turning again, he opened the door but stopped again
when Jessica asked, "Am I free to use whatever method of correction I
choose...in light of your special orders?" Something in her voice, a nuance
so subtle others might not have noticed it, caused Peter to turn and go over to
the TM who was apparently more than ready to get down to business.
When he stood before her, Peter left no doubt in her mind.
"Those
special orders," he informed her sharply, "are from Lothos, himself.
But just so there's no misunderstanding, Jessica, you may correct her as
you see fit," now Peter Hugen's tone darkened with a warning.
"Don't overstep those orders, or you may find yourself in a cell. Is
that plain enough?" Seeing the
way the TM's dark eyes flashed as she nodded to him was all the answer he got;
it was all the answer Peter needed. He glanced once more at Tala, naked and
chained facing the back wall of the cell then turned and exited the cell.
As he walked away from the cell, Peter neither hesitated nor looked back
when he heard the crack of a lash, followed instantaneously by Tala screaming.
It was going to be twenty-four of the longest hours of her life.
PART
TWO
‘I'm probably going to meet my
ancestors momentarily’ was the only thought that filled Trevor’s mind as he
opened his mouth to speak. It was
plain that Lothos was trying to force him to like Siren, but as far as Trevor
cared, Lothos had just hopelessly lost that intent.
Trevor forced himself not to react in the slightest to the gasp that came
from Siren in the office, when he looked straight at the camera affixed above
the door and all but demanded, "Does that mean I'll share her
quarters…and her bed, too?"
In
the deafening split second of silence that followed, Trevor held his breath,
wondering if he would still be alive a moment from now.
The
outrageously defiant and suggestive demand issued by Senior Logistics Technician
Trevor Conroy, brought a furious roar from Lothos that ricocheted off the walls.
“SILENCE!!”
Lothos thundered, forgetting for a moment everyone in Central Control except the
tall, dark-haired man still facing him, his chin lifted and his eyes staring up
at the camera above the door. Then,
Lothos heard what it was Siren was saying and understood what she was saying.
And it was only hearing Siren’s statement and understanding what it was she
was saying
"Siren,"
Lothos spoke her name, the edge in his voice sharp enough to slice someone’s
head off, noting how she jumped at the sound of it.
"It is not a matter of him liking you, and it will be fixed…NOW!
It's the act of being professional and respectful in my complex. That is
of the utmost importance to me. Without
professionalism and respectfulness to each other, the logistics sector will fall
behind. And if that happens, correction will be meted out to everyone. This, the
both of you behaving like nothing more than brats in a schoolyard, is behavior
that will not be tolerated in the work place.
It is unacceptable!" He
watched Siren closely as she nodded to acknowledge him. She had barely finished
speaking when Lothos turned his attention back to Trevor Conroy, still
unflinchingly defiant.
"Mr.
Conroy, since you seem to think that this is humorous enough to warrant asking
such a question, perhaps you need that prompt correction now."
I say menacingly. "No
man in this complex will talk to or about a woman that way in my presence or
within earshot of me. Your
conversations with anyone concerning your supervisor will be respectful. And you will behave accordingly.
Zooming in closer, Lothos noted that the young man’s jaw was still set
in a tight line but he also noted a fine line of sweat on his brow.
Hearing
Lothos pronouncement and knowing where it was heading, was the goad that prodded
Siren to get slowly to her feet and move to stand beside Trevor Conroy. Glancing at Trevor’s face, seeing the determination in his
face, Siren took a step forward. Pushing
her hair back from her face, she, too, now looked up at the camera.
"Lothos,”
she said carefully then paused to lick her lips before going on.
“This isn't necessary. And I…I am part of the problem here. He..” she glanced up at Mr. Conroy’s set features again
then back to the camera. “Mr.
Conroy was reacting to my heated words from earlier this morning. I wish that I had been more ... well... less of a ...
bitch,” she added, sliding an apologetic look at the man to her right. But all
Siren got for her attempt at accepting her share of responsibility, was a
decidedly hostile glare. It didn’t take a supercomputer to figure out that it
hadn’t been remotely the thing to say.
The awed look that she saw in Dr. Hugen’s eyes when she looked over at
him, only made her know that she should have just kept her mouth shut.
There
was no denying the nervous sweat that had sprung up on his forehead, but nothing
or no one was going to bully or browbeat him into yielding what he believed was
his right... Lothos or not. Hearing
Siren admitting that she was at fault, and a bitch about it to boot, all it got
her was an icy glare from Trevor’s light blue eyes.
He let her read in his eyes exactly what he thought of her attempt to
intervene on his behalf: *Thanks for nothing!*
PART
THREE
The
competitors had arrived early, fifteen and fourteen minutes early, respectively.
Thames didn’t utter a word or move a muscle, instead allowing the large
silence and the two competitors’ own tension to be the first unofficial test
between them.
In the business of leaping, patience was more than a virtue.
As a leaper it was sometimes, many times the difference between success
and failure.
At
last Lothos' voice filled the room, uttering one word: "Time."
But Thames allowed Johanna and Vaughn another moment to set their minds
to what now faced them. The minute
passed and Thames, at last, began to speak.
Moving
away from her, Thames went to Vaughn, stopping within three feet of the younger
man with the unreadable expression. He
searched that expression but saw, as he had discovered early on that Vaughn
Rickar had a knack, not unlike Dr. Peter Hugen, to hide his emotions.
Stepping closer to him, Thames got right up in his face.
"Only
the strongest and smartest, someone with the ability to think on his or her feet
will become the next senior leaper. Only
someone who, when dropped into a situation with nothing, can take that nothing
and turn it into success, not just once but every time, is worthy of attaining
the rank of senior leaper. But for anyone striving for the right to step into
Dr. Malvison’s boots, strength and smarts aren’t enough.” Searching Vaughn
Rickar’s face minutely for the least sort of response and not finding any,
Thames stepped back away from him, moving to stand once more half between the
two competitors.
Deception.
Total and utter deception and it could be with anyone outside of the
leaper community. Johanna, nodded
once. "Yes, sir," she
responded promptly then waited for her competitor to give his response.
"Yes,
sir!" Vaughn’s tone had an enthusiastic crispness to it as he likewise
responded to Thames' explanation of the first challenge.
Thames
silently sized each leaper up for a moment before he spoke again.
"Leaper
Royden, report to Acceleration Chamber Number 1.
Leaper Rickar, you will report to Chamber Number 3."
Signaling them to leave, as they walked away Thames called out one final
order. "You will speak to no one along the way.
Not a single word to anyone. If
you do, you lose this challenge." It
was instantly clear that both leapers had taken the order literally; neither
responded in any way.
Watching
the door close behind the last one out, at that moment all Thames could do was
relax, and wait. The hard part was
now on them.
PART
FOUR
After
a few more minutes, Peter exited I.C.U. Unit 2, took his leave of Hazel and the
other nurses just coming on duty for the evening, and went to his quarters.
Only when his front door was actually locked and he was standing in his
shower being pummeled by the sharp needle-like spray of hot water, did he at
last begin to relax. And when he at
last toweled off then crawled immediately into bed, Peter Hugen’s last waking
thought was, “Please… no emergencies… at least until tomorrow.”
After Dr. Hugen left I.C.U. after spending a few moments in Unit 2
observing Zoë Malvison, Hazel Anderson, Carlie Randall, and Bill Fawlwren and
the other two nurses assigned there for the night shift settled into the
familiar routine of hourly checkups on their assigned patients.
Checking vital signs and taking readings from the equipment that was
aiding the patients under their care to, hopefully, recover without any
complications.
Hazel, being the most senior on duty on the shift, had her own charge to
attend to as well as supervising her equally skilled and experienced colleagues.
It was just past eight forty-five when she finished the quarter hourly
check of Dr. Malvison’s vital signs – all steady and normal. Pausing beside the bed to study her sleeping charge for a
moment, Hazel turned and almost screamed when she found a man standing in the
wide-open doorway.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded in a low but clear and firm
voice.
Once he had sent Johanna and Vaughn off on their first test, Thames had
nothing to do but wait. And after
about ten minutes of wandering aimlessly about the empty lecture hall, he
decided that he wanted to see Zoë. So
what if she was doped to the gills and was out like a light?
‘At least she can’t nitpick about any of the four million and
three things she usually irritates me about’ he’d thought as he made his
way to the Medical Level and then to the Intensive Care Unit.
For a moment he had stood in the doorway leading into the unit, watching
the handful of nurses attending to the few unfortunates who needed to be in this
place. When none of the medical
staff made any move to order him out, Thames took the chance and moved slowly
and quietly further into the I.C.U. Luck
was with him as he discovered when he glanced into the first open unit and saw a
familiar shade of red hair against a snowy white pillowcase.
Not wanting to distract the nurse as she finished her duties of caring
for Zoë, Thames waited for her to leave, he, too had jumped a bit when at last
the woman turned and saw him. He
took a quick step toward her then stopped.
“I
just wanted to stop by and see how she... how Z...Dr. Malvison is doing?”
Thames’ dark eyes once more returned to the motionless – save for the
ventilator breathing for her – form of the most conniving and skilled leapers
and leaping instructors he had ever known.
Shifting
his gaze back to the nurse who was now standing almost in front of him, he asked
softly, “So...how is she doing?”
