THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS
Chapter 35 – Two Interrogations
It was bad. Even for someone as hardened as Riddick, it was bad. Syrus used much the same nerve centered technique that Jenna had used on G but, where she had used a pencil and a paperweight and went for maximum effect, Syrus used needles, electricity and laser scalpels with a few drugs added in to increase sensitivity and wove a subtle concerto of pain.
Sulleman was also a lot tougher than G and had a great many more secrets to be pried out of him. But most damning was the fact that the man couldn't accept the reality, the finality, of his situation. With blind confidence in the invulnerability that had surrounded him his entire life, he continued to threaten, offer bribes and false information and attempt other manipulations far beyond the point of reason. Only once he was totally broken did the truth that would end his torture finally begin to pour from him. It took a long time for that to happen.
And there was very little blood. Maybe that was the worst part of it as far as Riddick was concerned. Sulleman was reduced to a whimpering, quivering, broken animal yet there was hardly a mark on him to testify to the agony he had suffered. He looked obscenely unharmed.
Riddick, not really interested in the fine details of Sulleman's crimes after he made sure that Rafferty had nothing to do with the betrayal of the rescue party to him, concentrated on studying the other three participants. Rafferty was the easiest to categorize.
Riddick had made sure that the merc was present to witness the interrogation. Call it an object lesson. He had some questions for the merc to answer and, while he wasn't sure that Syrus would agree to actually torture the redhead after sharing his bed with him, threat of it might be enough to convince the merc to answer those questions. If it wasn't, Riddick could always fall back on his own, less civilized skills.
It didn't take long for Riddick to get Rafferty's measure. The man might have been Forces but he had never been Spec-Ops. He didn't have the stomach for it. He was on his knees clinging to the toilet and past anything but dry heaves long before Sulleman broke. As Riddick forced him back to watch the rest of it, he was certain that the merc wouldn't need any further persuasion. What really amused Riddick was the look of horrified fascination that suffused Rafferty's face every time he looked at his erstwhile lover, Syrus. It was a perfect study in reality shock.
While Syrus remained outwardly cold and clinical throughout the process, it was obvious that he was enjoying his work. He also seemed to be taking pleasure in demonstrating to Sulleman how accurate he had been in his negative critique of Sulleman's own interrogator. But he didn't get a hard-on and that made all the difference as far as Riddick was concerned. The man was a sociopath when it came to anyone but Jenna but he wasn't a perv. He would have experienced the same pride and satisfaction from his expertise in a life-saving operation as he was from this torture.
As Riddick watched the doctor analyze Sulleman's reactions and adjust his techniques, he wouldn't have been surprised if the man had pulled out a padd and started making notes for a definitive paper on the process. But Riddick could understand that. He was making his own mental notes of the locations of the various nerve points and the techniques Syrus was using to manipulate them. While he would probably never need more than Jenna's more primitive method, it didn't hurt to study a master at work when you got the chance.
Casmir, however, was the main focus of Riddick's attention. It had been obvious that he hadn't planned on being the one to interrogate Sulleman and Riddick was very interested in how he would handle that, particularly after his revelation of his closer than 'cousin' blood tie to Sulleman. So far Riddick was leaning toward the opinion that Casmir wouldn't be a bad match for Mira. But if there was any possibility that he could become a carbon copy of Sulleman, that opinion would change. On the other side of the coin, it wouldn't set well with Riddick if the young prince didn't have the guts to do what he had been willing to order others to do.
Casmir proved that he was more the son of the man who raised him rather than the one who sired him. He was sickened by the torture. But he did what had to be done; did his part in helping to subdue Sulleman and strap him across the low, backless settee; found the raw courage to stand at his head, ask the necessary questions and even lean close to hear muffled replies; signaled for further torture when unsatisfied with those answers. However, there was nothing but revulsion and, finally, even pity in his eyes. The full, sensuous lips became thin, tight lines and his face a pale mask. It was with exhaustion and relief that, when it was over, he spoke to Riddick as he left the room.
"I need no more information from him. As I have agreed, he is now yours."
As far as Riddick was concerned the prince had more than earned the right to have his marriage proposal delivered to Mira. If the girl wanted to return to her life on New Mecca, she couldn't make a better choice for a husband/protector. But that was future business. Right now, Riddick had what was left of Sulleman to deal with.
Payback had been collected in full. Riddick made it a mercy killing. Unstrapping Sulleman, he dragged him to the bath, threw him face down in the tub and slit his throat. The man died almost before he realized what was happening. As Riddick sat back on his heels waiting for the body to drain out, he cleaned his shiv and considered the problem of disposing of it. Lugging it through the passages of the compound didn't appeal to him anymore than it had when it was alive. It was Syrus who came to the rescue, so to speak.
"Nagia was singing the praises of the royal compound to me. It seems that the latest improvement was to replace the old cesspit with a modern, totally automated disintegrator/recycler. All sewer pipes and trash disposal chutes go directly to it. No servants involved who might question what was being disposed of. It shouldn't take long to cut him into pieces small enough to fit down the chute over there. The thing will probably make fertilizer for the rose beds out of him since Muslims don't raise pigs and the only dogs I've seen in the courtyard are the pampered pet variety. Bone meal is quite good for gardens."
Overhearing this, Rafferty started retching again. It was nothing but strangled dry-heaves. Ignoring it, Riddick started butchering the corpse, using the detachable spray head on the tub to wash it down as he went and keep the mess to a minimum. Rafferty's heaves became even worse. More aggravating to Riddick, Syrus started critiquing his work. His comments were mostly complimentary but Riddick just wasn't used to having company in such situations. Finally, Riddick turned and snarled at him.
"This would go a lot faster if you would untie the idiot, give him something to keep him from up-chucking his asshole and the two of you started putting pieces down the chute!"
With a nasty chuckle, Syrus turned and walked away into the main chamber of the apartment. Obviously he had been being intentionally irritating. Riddick heard a strangled 'No!' from Rafferty and a bit more muffled conversation between the two men and then Syrus returned to the bath alone. Riddick couldn't resist.
"He wouldn't let you give him any meds, would he? Looks like your love life just went to shit."
The light joking tone of Syrus' reply was honest, not forced.
"Alas, easily seduced, easily disillusioned. I believe that he will be quite relieved to return to his Charlie ..." the tone turned more serious, "... if you let him live to do so."
Riddick noted that Syrus had pitched his voice so that Rafferty would have no trouble overhearing them. Ok, Syrus wanted the merc to know exactly where he stood. Well, Riddick wanted to know exactly where Syrus stood.
"That depends on how quick he is to give up Sen and his plans. You got any objection to that?"
Syrus smirked at him.
"Surely you would have learned by now that what little loyalty my twisted psyche is able to produce all belongs to Jenna. I was inquiring as to your intentions after we question him."
"That depends on the answers we get."
Syrus gave a thoughtful nod and then proceeded to instruct Riddick on an easier way to separate the pelvic region from the rest of the torso and crack the ribs away from the spine and split the breastbone to halve the upper section. Riddick decided that if he had had teachers as competent in both knowledge and the ability to communicate it as Syrus he would have had a lot more interest in formal education. Then again, the uselessness of the information most governments deemed fit to dispense to the common population probably had a lot to do with that disinterest as well. Corpse Disposal 101 just hadn't been on the curriculum.
Syrus did attempt to help with the disposal of the corpse down the trash chute but it was apparent to Riddick that his ribs weren't up to it after the strain of the interrogation. He motioned him out of the bath with orders to pop some more pain meds and rest. Syrus might have followed the order to medicate himself but he didn't the one to rest. While Riddick finished dumping the corpse, rinsed down the chute and policed the bath for any remaining evidence, Syrus did the same for the main room and cleaned his instruments. He only sat down and relaxed on the settee where Rafferty was seated when Riddick approached the merc to question him.
It was an easy sell. One gesture toward the settee where Sulleman had been strapped down was all it took for the merc to start a voluntary core dump.
"You heard. I had nothing to do with Sulleman joining the party. My contract with Sen was to protect Syrus, get the child if possible and ... to get rid of you, Mr. Riddick." A hiss from Riddick caused him to pause for a second before continuing. "Oh, yeah, he knows who you are. He told me about the girl's teenage crush on you. How you're using it to twist her around until she doesn't know which way is up, turn her against the only family she has ever known. Look, my part of the contract is just what I told her, just what her own people want; a chance for me and my people on a new world where what we are is an advantage and not a curse. Without her, without the ships that isn't possible. But you'll use her to ... what? ... Pirate the ships? Sell us out to the highest bidder? Because somebody like you can't understand that kind of dream! All you can see is the money!"
Any reply Riddick might have made was cut off as Rafferty turned on Syrus.
"But I can't understand you! Why are you siding with this scum?! What you did to Sulleman ... well maybe I can understand that after what he did to you in his dungeons ... but you've backed Riddick against me from the beginning. Why? Why would you turn against Sen and the rest of the group?"
Syrus answered him with a derisive snort.
"Oh, my poor beauty. You have no idea of the snake pit you have fallen into."
Syrus stroked a finger down Rafferty's jaw. When the man recoiled from his touch, he fixed him with a snide smile and continued speaking in his most condescending drawl.
"Max has played you like a violin, Lover. No one in the group is looking for what you are. We already had our chosen society and were all quite happy until our new masters demanded the right to limit our research to their agendas in return for our care and feeding. For us the colony will be just the same as the Institute with the exception that Emperor Max the First, unlike our recent keepers, will have the good sense not to interfere with the one thing that matters to us, our work."
The merc was still reeling from the events of the past few hours but he managed to catch the important part of what Syrus had said.
"Emperor Max?"
"Oh, yes. Our dear Max definitely has delusions of godhood. I believe the common term is 'control freak'. Why do you think Jenna's natural evolution toward independence has him panting for Riddick's blood? She is his heir apparent, his royal consort of the spirit. He has been grooming her for that position since the first day she arrived at the Institute. The thought that she would be able to escape his control, begin to think for herself on her own volition, is really too embarrassing for him to admit therefore it must be the fault of Riddick's evil influence.
"The truth is that Jenna wants the ships for herself. She wants the freedom they offer, not a colony clone of the Institute. Riddick hasn't talked her into anything she wouldn't have eventually come to on her own. However, of more importance to you, would you care to know the use Max has for you and your people?"
Rafferty still looked punch drunk but seemed to be gathering a little hope from the fact that he was being talked to, not just questioned.
"What?"
"First, as the worker drones in his perfect little utopian hive. You and yours will do all the mundane little daily tasks necessary for survival that we of the group would never be willing to come out of our ivory towers to do and, to be honest, haven't the skills to do even if we would. However, that is a mutually beneficial situation. The products of our labor are immediately salable off planet and will make the colony viable in interplanetary trade centuries before a normal independent colony would be. It is Max's personal agenda that you should be worried about.
"His area of expertise is the psychological, economical and situational manipulation of population groups. Up to now, he has been severely limited in his experiments by the laws, morals and political aims of others. In the colony, he will have no such limiting factors. You and yours are slated to be his own personal set of lab rats unless you take measures to protect yourselves."
"What!!!!??? But that's not possible. Everything is spelled out in the contract he offered us. We control the colony government. He and any others in your group would only be there as advisors. The colony gets twenty percent of the group's income in taxes, fair market value for any goods and services and standard wages for anyone employed by the group. No tariffs for imports; shipping charges written off as group expense; free clinic medical; a computerized educational system; it's all there and MMM&P will handle the group's marketing and the bookkeeping for both the group and the colony. How could he manipulate that?"
Syrus shook his head in disbelief. Riddick understood Rafferty better but still wondered how the merc had survived and even ran his own business with such a limited knowledge of how things really worked. He chimed in with a layman's explanation.
"Fuck! How did you ever survive out there? Sen's got control of the money and the ships. So where's your twenty percent taxes and all those benefits if he doesn't release any of the group's work to be marketed for a few years and there isn't any group income? Or if there is income but all those benefits you get pull the gross down until there ain't no net? And what kind of imports are you going to have if Sen controls the ships and doesn't make supply runs when you need them? If you're smart you'll take some of that control away from Sen. You'll back Jenna's control of the ships. She isn't planning to take them away from the colony and she'll play fair with you if Sen does try some of that shit."
Rafferty was shaken but still not convinced.
"Just why would I take advice from a slam-head like you?"
Syrus exploded.
"Oh my god! It's a good thing that you have a great body because your brain is hardly above imbecile! After what you did, he has every right to send you tumbling after Sulleman. Instead, he's giving me the chance to keep you and your people as a very necessary asset to the colony. Since I estimate his IQ as at least thirty-five points above yours it would be to your great benefit to put aside your parochial prejudices and take his advice regardless of his past history, or perhaps because of it.
"Also, he hasn't even scratched the surface as far as what Max could manipulate. What happens when the colony breaks up into more than one settlement and dear Max arranges it so that one settlement is getting more of the pie than the others? The group is buying more supplies from them, their people are hired for better or more jobs? Things they need are getting shipped in first? Actually he wouldn't even need to wait that long. He could easily do the same thing by splitting you along vocational lines; rancher versus farmer, rural versus urban.
"The real irony of your stupidity is that Riddick is the one person among us who is in a position similar to your own and does understand your dream of a new life."
Rafferty turned a disbelieving glare on Riddick. Happy with how Syrus was handling things so far, he answered the merc with a shrug and a short qualifier.
"Yeah, but I see things more like Jenna does, open space. I'll stick with the ships until she gets tired of me and gives me a sweet package like the BC to get rid of me."
Riddick didn't realize what he had said until he heard himself saying it. The extreme sinicism of his tone as well as his words, over the top even for him, shocked him. Rafferty didn't seem to have noticed it, focusing instead on what must have seemed to him as an admission of a plan for future blackmail.
"So you admit that you're after the ships!"
But Syrus hadn't missed it and was giving Riddick a very piercing analytical stare. He quickly gave them something else to think about.
"Just one and a little one at that. I figure it's more than fair payment for all the shit that wasn't mentioned when I took this contract. And you'd better be fucking glad that's the way I want it. If I was the kind to settle down on a colony, the last thing I would be doing would be helping a bunch of mercs with long memories become my neighbors. Not that you've convinced me I should be helping you. Just what were you planning to do to get rid of me? Just kill me? Or were you going to try to collect the bounty on me?"
Rafferty started looking sick again.
"The bounty can't be collected. There's no way to prove who you are unless the group and everything they've done is exposed. My contract was to kill you."
"So how does that make you any better than me, merc?!" Riddick had had about all he could stomach of the redhead. He turned to Syrus. "If this piece of rationalizing shit is so important to you, you convince him to play on Jenna's side or I will kill him. Now, I've had a long day and I'm getting something to eat and some sleep." Then as he headed toward the door, "While you're finding out what else Sen is up to, I want to know if he said anything about the bug problem? The one in the hold or the one in the ship's system?"
Riddick wasn't really hungry and he certainly wasn't in the mood for company. He avoided the room where they had left Nagia and the children, choosing instead the one where the luggage had been stored. He was pleased to find that only his own remained, which meant that Syrus had been given another room and wouldn't be disturbing him. Removing his boots but not his weapons, he flopped down on the bed and focused on the mosaic pattern of the ceiling to calm himself.
He wasn't worried about how things would come out with Rafferty. Aside from the fact that Syrus was probably telling more of the truth of the situation, when he put his mind to it, the cold-blooded bastard was a match for Sen in the manipulation department. He would have the merc back in his bed and eating out of his hand before Rafferty knew what hit him.
What was bothering Riddick was what he, himself, had said about the way he and Jenna might end up. What was that shit that had spilled out of his mouth? Was it what he really believed would happen? Or ... was it what he wanted to happen? The more he thought about it the more he really didn't know which one it was. But, he did know that it was bugging the shit out of him that he had no idea of what she wanted from him.
'It's whatever you want it to be.' What kind of fucking game was that? Women either wanted fun and games and no strings or they wanted to be your cellmate in max-lockdown, marriage. And neither one was going to put up with you wanting it to be the other way, no matter how hard they tried to do it. If they tried for too long something inside them died. They either became hard and bitter or broken. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn't want to be the one who did that to Jenna.
But Jenna wasn't like any other woman he had ever met. Maybe she did want something different, something in between those two extremes. But how the fuck was he supposed to know what that was and if it was something he could be ok with if she wouldn't tell him?
He finally fell into a fitful sleep, plagued by dreams of Jenna either clinging to him, begging and pleading, as he left her or cold faced with disgust as she told him to leave.
