In the communal cave, Barle stared at Jason, trying to come to terms with the bone blades that the boy was quite clearly displaying. He had always known that Jason wasn't his, and hated him for killing his beloved wife. But he looked so much like her, that he had been quite happy living a form of denial for the last decade.
But now this slap in the face, this undeniable proof that not only had his wife not loved him as he'd loved her, she'd lain with a Neitzch and produced a half-breed, and those thoughts took the very breath from his lungs. He didn't think he handle any more shocks today as his mind whirled out of kilter, incapable of settling on any one thought.
"Barle!" a horrified voice broke the silence and he spun to face Althazar alongside one of the girls he'd tried to take a few days ago, alongside a short man he'd never seen before.
Barle sharply gestured for Jason to get out, "I'll deal with you later you little bastard," he said. Turning back to Althazar, he put on his most obsequious and sincere expression. "Mr Althazar, sir, what brings you here so unexpectedly?"
"Surprise inspection," Althazar told him gruffly. "What have you done to all these people?" The sick wonder was clear in the older man's voice as he swept his arm out to indicate the general area.
Barle tried for denial, "I-I don't know what you mean, the miners? They're all happy and productive…"
"And sick and poor!" Althazar roared. "They're productive, I'll give you that, but they're all addicts! What have you been giving them?"
"N-nothing! You know what these kind of people are like!" Barle could see his private empire crumbling before him. "I'm sure they have their vices-"
"Liar!" a new voice hissed as an arm snaked around his neck, and he knew the Neitzchean had found him. With his attacker's other hand at the side of his neck, cold metal pressing there, he could feel the tension building in his neck and he knew the Neitzchean intended to either break it, or electrocute him.
"Rhade, no!" Yet another voice and the communal cave was becoming crowded. This one was Hunt, and the Neitzchean growled, but did not move.
The white shadows of miners started creeping in through the corridors, which gave Barle some hope. Give Hunt whatever he wanted and perhaps he'd call off the Neitzchean dog. Then he'd be able to call his miners to his aid.
Hunt continued to talk though as he moved into the cave. "Rhade, this man has to answer for his crimes! Let him go!"
Another growl and hot breath in his ear and the tension in Barle's neck became almost unbearable. "No!" snarled the Neitzchean, "By all means lay his crimes before him and see if he answers. But he will not leave this cavern alive."
To Barle's dismay, Hunt capitulated, "I guess that will have to do for the moment." Althazar started to say something but Hunt cut him off. "And as I believe I am in the best position to fill in the gaps, I will start."
"No, you-" Barle started, but the Neitzchean cut off his air.
"Tut-tut little kludge. It is not your turn to speak." And then he could breath again.
"You won't want to hear this, Mr Althazar," began Hunt, "but you should be aware that your son, Bryal, knew exactly what was happening here, and took his cut." He turned to address Barle. "What happened, did he get too greedy?"
"I- no," Barle sighed; he may as well tell the truth here, it had been after all an accident. "The other crewman always stayed in the shuttle. I don't allow technology here, you understand, so the repos have no reason to come here. Except for Bryal stopping by of course. Perhaps the crewman became suspicious, I don't know, but he followed Bryal in and saw the miners. We couldn't let him go and Bryal tried to persuade him that all was not as it seemed, but the crewman was so insistent on reporting what he'd seen, I had no choice, and I think he must have been Bryal's friend because then Bryal turned on me too, what could I do?"
The Neitzchean growled and Hunt made a non-committal noise before continuing. "And then you had another of Mr Althazar's own businesses take care of the shuttle for you. Were you trying to set him up?"
Barle swallowed hard. "It was the only way I knew to get rid of it. I didn't want the repos here looking."
"Who does?" chimed in Harper. "Anti-tech xenophobes."
"A cut of what?" Althazar was clearly not keeping up, shock written all over his face. "The mines are producing at a higher rate than predicted, I can't imagine –"
The blonde girl who had come in with Althazar interrupted him. "I can answer that. It's a variation on a very old scam."
"Beka?" Hunt indicated the floor and she stepped forward.
"See, you get your workers addicted on some cheap drug. Anything will do, so long as it's easy to get hold of and doesn't have side effects you can't explain off. You pay the workers with one hand and take it away with the other by selling the drug. Except in his lordship's case, he's managed to create his own magic kingdom. I doubt the workers have ever seen a penny. They work and they get their fix, a bowl full of gruel twice a day and a mat to sleep on. They're so stoned they think they've got a good deal, and so afraid of having it taken away they'll do anything to protect the status quo."
At this the miners that were slowly creeping into the cave to listen started muttering in low tones. Barle thought there may be some hope after all.
"And lord Barf here gets to keep the entire payroll when it comes in. Apart from paying off the odd son and heir of course."
There was nothing to say to that and the restrictive hold prevented Barle from shaking his head in negation, so he licked dry lips and tried to croak a denial but failed.
"As for the drug in question," Hunt picked up, "and what Mr Rhade over there is so upset about is that Lord Barle likes to acquire patients, with or without their consent, into his clinic in order to milk them of certain bodily fluids. Without going into detail and suffice it to say, those patients are literally milked to death, something of which Mr Rhade has first hand experience."
Barle felt the grip around his neck tighten.
"And if anyone is wondering as to the fate of Bryal and the crewman, who does in fact have a name and that would be Lan, they too suffered from that fate; Bryal some time ago and Lan only within the last hour."
There was a harsh sob, and Alec Althazar collapsed abruptly to his knees.
"So," growled the Neitzchean to Barle, "are you answering?"
Barle tried to say something, and looked desperately at the hollow eyed miners. "Help me!" he beseeched them. "If you don't, there will be no more R-"
"No! Rhade -!" Someone started to cry out but sharp edged metal cut Barle off mid-sentence as the taser was jammed into his mouth.
The Neitzchean whispered into his ear, urgent and passionate, but only half heard "Come close to me and unfasten the irons life, for I am weary of dragging them… deliver me from my neighbours who looked upon me as a stranger… carry me from these multitudes who left me in the dark corner of oblivion because I do not bleed the weak as they do… Come and take me…"
A click and the world turned to excruciating blue fire.
XXXXX
Dylan watched the crackling blue lightning surrounding Rhade and Barle, both men crying out their torment as the electricity flowed through neurons and synapses, stabbing muscles and ripping nerves apart. It was clear that the taser was on its highest setting; that Rhade had been aiming to kill. Dylan had known that the Neitzchean would find a way to take himself out too because, despite what Rhade had said, he knew from conversations with Gaheris how important bone blades were.
"Pretty fireworks," said Beka. "They're going to stop soon, right?"
"I have no idea," Dylan replied looking for a way to separate the two men or disable the taser, but nothing was to hand.
"I can stop this," a boy appeared next to Dylan. "But I don't know if it's the right thing to do."
"It's the right thing to do!" Dylan said urgently. "There are two lives at stake here."
"Lives are worth nothing if they're wasted," the boy said, a Neitzchean by the bone blades. He seemed mesmerised by the blue glowing pair vibrating in the centre of the cave. "Neither deserves to live."
"And who are you to make such a judgement?" asked Dylan. "Stop them. Now."
"The human part of me says that the human doesn't deserve to live for what he's done to others. The Neitzchean part of me says the Neitzchean doesn't deserve to live because he doesn't want to. Yet, the human part of me also says that to allow this when I can stop it is wrong, and the Neitzchean part of me says that if either is strong enough, he will survive in any case, and deservedly so. Which is the right answer?"
"The answer that feels right," an older woman appeared, her hands on the boy's shoulders. "You know Barle, and you know Rhade. What do you think is right?"
There was a long pause, and since the boy had all the angles figured out, Dylan wasn't sure what to say, but he tried. "Stop it, and if either survives, then they'll each still have the choice."
"Are you sure?" The boy looked ages old, and Dylan felt certain that the boy knew the answer to his own question, and it wasn't the one Dylan would have given. Nevertheless, the boy pulled the electro-magnetic disruptor from a pocket and pressed the button. Instantly the taser fizzled out and the two bodies dropped like rag dolls to the floor.
Dylan ran over, kneeling to feel for a pulse in each of the bodies. For Barle it was useless, his eyes wide and unseeing, bruised mouth slack in death. Rhade's skin was likewise cold and clammy, but there was a strong pulse at his throat and Dylan breathed a sigh of relief.
The boy knelt on the opposite side of Barle's body to Dylan and busied himself closing the man's eyes and folding his hands. Standing once more, the boy drew himself to his full, if diminutive height and commanded the scared and confused miners to prepare the body for a decent funeral pyre. The miners, although uncertain and hesitating, obeyed.
Rhade was trembling violently as Beka knelt behind him, supporting his head to stop it banging against the stone floor. "I wish Trance were here," she said.
"We have to find her," said Dylan urgently. "And soon. Do you think you and Harper could-?"
"Find who?" came a bright voice and Trance appeared at one of the entrances to the cave.
"Uh, you," Dylan ventured uncertainly.
Trance glided over to the group, pausing by Althazar. "It'll be all right, you know," she told the older man. "There are those here you can care for who won't betray you." And leaving the confused man behind, she looked at Barle and Rhade.
"I can't do anything for him," she said, pointing to Barle, "he's dead."
"So were you," remarked Dylan softly.
Trance laughed and shook her head, "No silly, I can't die yet, I'm not done." She peered over at Rhade. "He doesn't look very well."
"Can you help him?" asked Harper, "I mean I know you don't know what you knew, but maybe what you knew might come back to you if you, you know, like tried?"
Trance stared, and shrugged. "Um, no, I don't think so, it's not my place."
The old woman suddenly pushed her way in and kicked the shaking Rhade in the ribs. "Hey, Neitzch, you can get off your lazy ass any time now." There was no response and she leaned down to grab him by the chin. "Listen to me, boy. You can quit playing for sympathy, because I've run out. I fixed you once and I don't have the time or patience to fix you again, so either get off your ass or get it over with and die. Either way, make up your mind." She let go and slapped him, hard.
Rhade sat up suddenly with a gasp and looked around, fighting for breath with a slightly bewildered expression. "What – what, am I doing here?" he said, rubbing his forearms with a wince.
"Trying to get your Neitzchean butt fried," answered the old woman, "and I bet you never had Jason check those wounds again like I told you, did you? No." The old woman turned and left the group, muttering as she went. "Damned stubborn idiot, no respect for other people's work, no…"
"Damn, woman will you be silent!" Althazar roared to the still muttering woman.
"I will not!" she roared back and, suspecting a match made in hell, Dylan turned back to Rhade, who had leaned forward, away from Beka, and wasn't looking at any of them.
"Hey, missed you big guy," Harper said, punching Rhade's arm lightly.
"Right, whatever," the Neitzchean clambered to his feet with a groan. "I'm fine," he said with a sharp intake of breath, whilst shaking off Beka's hand.
"Okay," placated Dylan, not at all reassured, "we were worried about you."
"Well don't." Rhade stumbled the few steps towards Jason while Beka mouthed to Harper and Trance that perhaps they should Ixnay.
"I'm sorry," Rhade said to Jason, "I wasn't planning on being a walking reminder of your father's killer."
Jason smiled. "You're not," he said. "I'll never know my father, but I do know that Barle wasn't it. Not in blood nor spirit." Jason pulled at Rhade's right arm. "It's still paining you," he said. "Let me see."
Rhade stood quietly although the twitching muscle in his jaw belied his impatience, while Jason gently unwrapped his arm. The Neitzchean deliberately didn't look and allowed Jason to unwrap his left arm, and then hold both, inspecting them side by side.
Jason asked softly, "how good are the Neitzchean enhancements at regenerating bone blades?"
"I don't know," Rhade told him, rolling his head back to look at the ceiling, anywhere else but at another body or his arms. "I don't think anyone's ever lived long enough to find out."
"Rhade," as he let go of the older man's arms, Jason's voice was soft but firm. "I think you'll want these back."
After a moment, blinking quickly and clenching his jaw, Rhade saw his gauntlets in Jason's hand and looked down at his arms. The wounds were almost healed but for the livid red sore spots, three in each arm where the tiny white points of new bone blades were emerging from the newly healed skin.
FIN