The Price of Freedom - Part 6
If John had thought his time in the dungeon had been bad the last time, it had been a bed of roses compared to this, as stringing him up had meant just that.
John dangled above the dirty floor, suspended from his wrist manacles by two chains, which were firmly secured to the ceiling by strong metal hooks. His arms were painfully stretched above his head, and although he could just about reach the floor with the tips of his toes, if anyone kicked him or he lost his balance, he would swing free.
His shoulders ached incessantly at the strain of having to support most of his weight. A pulse of pain shot through his neck from time to time giving him no relief at all. It only helped to increase the size of his headache, which was mounting to severe migraine proportions. He daren't relax or lose his footing, as that would mean putting more strain on his already abused arms and shoulders.
His nosebleed hadn't been attended to and he could still taste blood on his lips indicating that the bleeding might not have stopped completely. Other bruises and minor cuts made their presence known with a growing ache but because his whole body hurt, he couldn't identify any specific area as being worse off than other.
John estimated that he'd been strung up for about an hour now and he began to wonder if they would leave him in this position all night. He didn't know whether he could stand that or not.
He allowed his thoughts to drift in and out for a while but during one of his more alert periods, John could vaguely hear scratching noises. He guessed that his rodent friends were back to greet him.
One of the creatures suddenly brushed against his foot and John instinctively moved. This caused a jolt of pain to shot through his neck and he felt himself blacking out.
Desperately, he tried to shake it off but the room began to spin before his eyes and his ears buzzed loudly as the blood rushed from his head. "No, no, no," he told himself firmly. "Stay awake!"
John's world continued to fade and just when he thought oblivion would claim him, he felt his arms flop as the tension was released. In his anguish, John hadn't even realised that anyone had entered the room. However, he was extremely grateful for their mercy because now the chains had been lengthened enough to allow him to stand without stretching.
With the strain taken off his arms, John was able to lower his head until he felt the dizziness begin to recede. He flexed his shoulder muscles and rolled his neck in the hope of easing the pain. It helped a little but the headache and discomfort remained.
Several minutes passed before he found the energy to lift his eyes but when he did, he blinked twice as he stared directly into a pair of cruel beady eyes.
"What am I going to do with you?" Karakus sneered from his position no more than a foot away.
If John could have found the strength, he would have tried to push the big ugly man over with his body. However, strength not withstanding, John abruptly realised that Karakus wasn't alone. Several guards, including the one called Halden, stood near his shackled body just waiting for him to make such a move.
The Master's sneer deepened as he inched his huge frame even closer to John. Without warning, he grabbed John's face and painfully squeezed his cheeks. "You have been nothing but trouble to me ever since the moment I bought you. I should have left you for the Wraith to feed on."
John knew that was a lie because he would have been bought by the other bidder if Karakus hadn't of intervened. However, he chose to remain silent. Not that he could say anything with the brute squeezing his mouth so tightly.
But Karakus wasn't finished. "My favoured slave is now missing several front teeth thanks to you. Maybe I should extract retribution by removing some of yours."
John shuddered inwardly, trying desperately not to portray any fear at the prospect, as that could just push Karakus into carrying out his threat.
However, unexpectedly, the brute suddenly let go of John's face. "But if I want to use you in the sex industry, then you need to stay reasonably decent looking." Another shudder passed through John as Karakus paused to ponder. "But you are not tame enough for the streets yet, are you? No doubt you would run the minute you had a chance."
Karakus paused again to let an exaggerated sigh pass through his slobbery lips. Lifting a podgy finger, he poked John forcibly in the stomach. "You are a skinny bastard but you have muscle. I think a turn in the gold mine will help curb your rebellious ways. If you behave, I will consider removing you before your health suffers too much. If not, then you will rot there for the rest of your very short and miserable life - slave."
John cleared his throat and spoke up for the first time. "I am not a slave, I'm a free man."
"My god you have guts, but let me tell you this - slave," Karakus drew out the word again to emphasize it, "If you say that just one more time, I will have you put in a cage and hung from the wall for all to see just how free you are. Is that understood?"
Again, John chose to remain silent, annoying Karakus even more as he stared him out. It was a match that John Sheppard won and in that moment, John knew that the man was weak and cowardly. Proven even more so, when in the next instant, Karakus lost his nerve and stormed away.
Before departing, he shouted to his guards. "Leave him there for the night and first thing tomorrow have him transferred to the mine! Without breakfast!"
The guards, "Yes, Master!" Were the last words John heard before the door was soundly shut, leaving him alone with his pain and the scurrying rodents. At least they had left the chains just about slack enough to allow him to lie down on the cold hard floor.
-SGA-
"What? You want me to wait another week?" McKay spluttered. Although, chronologically, a week on Tandara was slightly shorter than on Earth, but for McKay it was still far too long. "In another week Sheppard could be dead. We don't even know what they are doing to him right now while we sit on our asses and do nothing."
Majel threw Rodney a sympathetic look. "I know how hard it is for you, Doctor, but our people need more time to organise a way to get you through the great ring."
Rodney squeezed his eyes shut. How often had he heard that excuse? He had almost lost track of time as he no longer had a watch to calculate it by, but he reckoned that he'd been stuck on this planet for about five weeks now with seemingly no progress made at all. Even though Rodney had had several meetings with the antislavery group, they just didn't seem to possess any real stomach for reform. Therefore, it was no wonder that things hadn't changed much over the years.
Although no progress had been made towards McKay's return home, the meetings had provided him with quite an insight into the Tandarian society. Rodney found it extremely unbelievable that they had yet to form a true monetary system. The only form of coinage was the gold pieces that were exchanged for the slaves. Everyday goods were bartered for and they certainly didn't need to pay for workers when they had a plentiful supply of slave labour to do the menial tasks. However, a certain amount offworld trading was allowed, but only for a privileged few. Once again, barter was used for that.
It appeared that several influential families had total control over certain areas of the community such as policing. However, most powerful and prominent of all was Gallus Karakus. He alone controlled the drug and alcohol trade as well as prostitution, gambling and other such dark areas. Karakus also had soul procession of the gold producing mine, which was reputed to be hard labour with little reward. Nevertheless, Karakus somehow managed to extract every gold nugget using the blood and sweat of countless slaves.
There was also no form of democratic government as Karakus was the authority. In other words, he was the true dictator of the small population of ninety thousand or so citizens, and numerous slaves. Everyone Rodney had encountered had shown the greatest of fear for Karakus, which explained why no one seemed willing to stand up against him. Therefore, what Karakus wanted, Karakus got, and Rodney came to realise of just how brave Majel and her husband had been when they had tried to buy Sheppard at the auction. Consequently, his respect for them had grown immensely.
The couple had pointed out that many more people would stand up against Karakus if the slavers weren't so strong. The ruff and despicable band of offworlders were making a tidy fortune out of the misery of others and as long as people like Karakus continued to buy from them then the trade would flourish. It made Rodney sick to think about it but then again, Earth had had such times in history.
It had taken great leaders to put an end to it, but Rodney wasn't a great leader. He had a great brain, at least for science, although that wasn't helping him much in this situation. Rodney couldn't imagine having to stay on Tandara for the rest of his life as his superior intelligence was being greatly wasted on menial tasks such as washing dishes and making beds. Although, it was all in the pretence of being a slave to the kindly couple, and even though they didn't force him to work, he felt obliged to repay them somehow.
No, he desperately needed a way to get off this planet and the delay was killing him. Rodney suddenly felt like throwing a tantrum as his frustration boiled over. "I'm sorry, Majel, but that's just not good enough."
"What are you going to do? March right up to the ring and demand to be let through? That will not help John Sheppard, especially if you get yourself killed."
With a sinking feeling, Rodney knew that she was right, but the wait was getting on his nerves. Rodney counted to ten before turning to the kindly woman with a resigned expression. "All right one more week but please don't make it any longer."
"We will do our best," she promised him.
-SGA-
Elizabeth's eyes silently followed Ronon as he stormed out of the meeting. She couldn't blame him in the least because she felt like storming out herself, but dignity and protocol prevented such an action.
Caldwell was driving her mad with his imposing attitude. The way he was behaving anybody would think he was leader of the expedition and not her. The man was currently putting Major Lorne down after the officer had politely reminded the colonel that normal military solutions didn't apply in the Pegasus Galaxy and that the full-scale search for Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay should continue.
The colonel was quick to say missing in action was missing in action, no matter where it was and a reasonable amount of time had already been allocated for the search. End of matter, it was time to down grade it.
Elizabeth didn't normally have to raise her voice to be heard but he was making her blood boil. "Colonel! As expedition leader it is my call as to whether or not the search should be scaled down."
"That may be so, Dr. Weir, but as head of military it's my call as to how long service personnel can be utilised for what appears to be a useless endeavour. It's too much of a risk as the city's security is constantly being jeopardised by understaffing."
Elizabeth counted to ten before replying. "Firstly, the search has not been a useless endeavour and secondly, may I remind you that you are only acting head of military until Colonel Sheppard is recovered."
Steven Caldwell nodded briefly but refrained from making a comment. He did however restate his decision. "I have no jurisdiction over the civilian personnel, ma'am, but as far as I'm concerned, no more military personnel can be deployed to search for the two missing men. That includes you, Major Lorne."
Elizabeth was quick to speak up before Lorne could get himself into deep water with the colonel. "Regardless, we will not give up and I'm sure there are plenty of service personnel willing to continue the search in their downtime."
She half-expected Caldwell to protest but he took her by surprise with his reply. "What people do in their spare time is their own business but if it interferes with the normal working schedule, then I will put a stop to it."
Before Elizabeth could comment on that, Teyla spoke up. "I am sure my people will only be too willing to help, even more than they are now."
"They are already doing a lot of the searching, Teyla." Elizabeth reminded her.
"Yes, but there are still many planets and people that we can contact. We owe Dr. McKay and the Colonel a lot, and I know my people will not rest until they are found."
Elizabeth decided to end it there before Caldwell could say more on the matter. "Thank you, Teyla. That's settled then. We will continue the search using voluntary civilians, off-duty military personnel and the Athosians."
Caldwell nodded but he didn't look exactly delighted. Elizabeth inwardly sighed, longing for the day that John Sheppard returned to Atlantis.
-SGA-
"You miserable little worm!" the guard screeched before hitting John one more time for good measure. "The Master put you here to dig! Now dig!"
John looked up from his position on the dirty floor to pull a face at the brute towering over him. He had been digging but the poor kid next to him had suffered some kind of fit. John had only stepped in to help the boy. Of course, that had resulted in yet another confrontation with the guard, when the brute had pulled John into the centre of the aisle and had viciously struck him with his rod several times across the back. John was getting sick of it.
The kid was all right now, so John painfully crawled back to join him as they resumed the relentless task of digging out the jagged stones with nothing more than a crude pointed shovel made of rough iron.
The stone was brittle and crumbly, yet still hard enough to break nails and cut skin on its crystal sharp protrusions. Worst of all was the never-ending cloud of arid dust. It got into the hair, the clothing and into defenceless lungs causing a hacking cough. The older slaves, those who had survived more than a few months, were all suffering from some form of lung decease and an assortment of skin complaints in the form of boils, rashes and infected cuts.
John's hands were covered in sores and he'd only been here for about a week. The night he'd spent in the dungeon had left him weak and he really hadn't had time to recover before being forced to scour out the gold producing rock for hours on end.
He hadn't seen the light of day since arriving as they were kept in the mine even at night. John's clothing was already filthy and his skin was almost black beneath the sores and bruises from the clinging dust and dirt.
The sleeping area was dark, damp and grimy with narrow shelves carved roughly into the stone for beds. A thin mattress was provided to make the bed less hard and the inevitable single blanket given for warmth, which was very inadequate against the cold produced underground. The meals were poor and only provided upon waking and after the working day. Water was available at all times but it was dirty and probably carried untold diseases. Needless to say, life expectancy was extremely low.
A choking cough caught in John's throat and he swore silently as the shovel slipped yet again and his knuckles scrapped across the jagged rock. He hastily sucked on the graze while wishing for a cool glass of clean water and some of Beckett's good stuff to ease the pain, which had become a constant companion.
The kid called Seth stopped digging for a moment and looked up at him after making sure that the guard was occupied with someone else. "Please, the next time I get sick just leave me alone. If you don't it will get you killed."
"I know, but I'm not the type to stand by and watch someone suffering without trying to help them."
"I've had those turns all my life. So in future, just leave me alone then you won't be beaten. I will be okay, honestly John."
The word epilepsy flitted through John's mind. Poor kid, as if he didn't have enough to worry about. John lightly patted Seth's dirty arm, saying. "Okay, I promise but---"
John wanted to say more when a shrill tone echoed down the passageways marking the end of the day. If they didn't move quickly then they would be punished. So together, he and Seth stood and wearily shuffled behind the rest of the slaves as they made their way down the low roofed tunnel back towards the sleeping shelves.
It was the same old story every day and as they moved, John remained vigilant in the hopes of finding a weakness and way out of this awful place. However, the guards never gave an inch. Relentlessly watching every move and every step the slaves took. Only at night were they left alone to sleep behind a secured barricade.
The journey to the hold wasn't long and the slaves remained quiet apart from the occasional hacking cough or gasp of pain. No one talked very much anyway as their spirits had been crushed months ago and what was there to talk about other than wishing for death.
They shuffled to a halt and beneath the dirt, the pale faces stared brokenly as the guards let them pass into the sleeping area, one at a time.
As usual, the evening meal had been placed on a table positioned along one wall. The ration consisted of dry bread, watered down soup and when they were lucky, a small piece of fruit. Once the guards allowed them to eat, it would be a free for all as the stronger slaves tried to push the weaker ones out for more of a share. John had tried to reason with them, explaining that it should be equally divided. They had looked at him as if he was crazy and nothing had changed, so John had quickly learnt to take more than his fair share. Then if anyone were left out, John would share some of his ration with him. Although, he never went without himself as he knew how important it was to keep up his strength just in case a chance to escape arose. He didn't have to worry about Seth, as the kid gave as good as he got and his bowl was always full.
At the guards signal, John took a bowl from a shelf and elbowed his way into the throng of sickly slaves. Compared to the most, he was still in relatively good health so it took little effort to assert his position before the pot of unappetizing soup. Grabbing the ladle, John filled his bowl, broke off some bread and made his way over to his sleeping shelf. Tonight he would eat the whole bowl himself as his hunger was eating at him leaving his stomach aching from lack of wholesome food.
Listlessly spooning the tasteless concoction into his mouth, John thought about Rodney and wondered if he was doing all right. He certainly hoped that it was better than he was because John doubted if Rodney could cope in this type of situation.
His thoughts turned to Ronon and Teyla. Were they slaves? Somehow, John doubted it because he was petty sure that they had escaped during the assault and he'd seen no sign of them at the auction. Nevertheless, if they had escaped why hadn't they mounted a rescue mission yet?
John lifted his spoon once again and his eyes suddenly watered, he blamed it on the dust. But in truth, he knew that if a rescue mission had been possible it would have been undertaken by now. Which meant that maybe Ronon and Teyla hadn't made it back or they'd been unable to locate his and Rodney's whereabouts?
John watched as an unaccustomed tear fell into his soup. He didn't have the energy or enthusiasm to swipe the tears away, so he let them fall while longing for the nightmare to end through either rescue or -- death.
John shuddered at the thought. He had always considered himself to be strong but this location was breaking his spirit and unless something changed soon, he doubted being able to get out this alive.
Tbc