A Space: Above and Beyond fanfiction fragment by Susi Patzke
| AUTHOR'S
NOTE: Did you ever wonder what McQueen thought while being tortured by the AI's? I did... a lot. But then again, I never aimed at writing about it. This fragment was meant to be the beginning of the third of the Five Rings - but it never blend in... So, I turned the Third Ring over completely (giving it a more funny touch) and let this fragment stand alone for itself... and I think, it can stand on its own feet... |
DISCLAIMER: The universe of Space: Above and Beyond is the property of Glen Morgan and James Wong and Hard Eight Productions, borrowed with all my love and admiration for their outstanding work and creativity, but nonetheless without permission. No copyright infringement intended. |
The Silicate drew its knife.
The blade reflected the only beam of sunlight that had mad its way past the wooden-barred window into the dark room where they *questioned* him.
He desperately needed a distraction. Now. Because this knife would soon be used. It would cut through his skin and his flesh. Would cut through veins without hesitation. Would do great harm to him.
He hated it.
His eyes flickered through the room in order to find something to concentrate on. But except for the Silicate and its knife, there was pretty much nothing else in the room to focus on. The sunbeam which seemed to be the only friendly aspect in there was nowhere to be seen - except as a reflection on the knife's blade.
So he focused on the blade, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sun on it.
In concentrating on the silvery surface of the weapon he tried to forget about the Silicate that was holding it. And that was ready to use it. His entire universe shrunk until it only onsisted of the blade's image.
The blade seemed new to him. No scratches on it. No remainder of blood on it. Clean. Shiny.
He couldn't help it but in a certain way he even saw a kind of perfection before him. To be honest, it appeared to be a wonderful weapon. Wonderful in its simplicity and its undoubted efficiency. Its purity only highlighted the perfection.
As a warrior, he had come to respect efficiency. And as a man, he had come to respect simplicity and purity. If he thought it through, he found those attributes in himself as well. Yes, he could respect that.
As a warrior, he was also used to the principle of *being used*. A soldier didn't fight for his own good but because someone else - higher in rank, stronger in power - usually ordered him to do so. He was a soldier - he knew what it meant to be used. Sometimes it would be against his will but he would go because it was his purpose of being. And if something negative occured as a result of his actions as a soldier, he could always draw confidence and redemption from the fact that it was his job to do what he was told to. His job was to be the weapon of someone else. Whoever that was. Yes, he could respect that.
Something fell into place in his mind.
He was a tool. AND the knife was only a tool, also. It was innocent. It was
being used. Just like he was being used. Because it was its purpose of being.
Its job was to be the weapon of someone else. In this case it was a Silicate.
Therefore, it wasn't the knife's fault that it would be going to hurt
him.
No... No, he could respect that.
By the time the blade drilled into his already tormented body and the pain into his already tortured mind, his soul had made its peace with it.
He didn't hate it any longer.
Susi Patzke
12/3/96