Chapter 4

Snick.

I braced for death as Kruger snapped open his switchblade. I felt the blade trace my collarbone slowly. A low growl rumbled in Kruger's throat as he slowly dragged the blade along my neck. If it wasn't the switchblade or Kruger's teeth that killed me, it would be the crushing tension.

"I can't…"

Suddenly, my wrists fell free from their bonds. My eyes snapped open. Kruger was standing over me, no longer crushing me under his weight. Cautiously, I flexed my wrists, the feeling flowing back slowly. I dared to look at Kruger, who stood with his hands clenched in fists, trembling lightly. Once again, it seems as though he had restrained himself from doing something terrible.

Afraid as I was, I felt genuine surprise. I felt the need to make my gratitude apparent, though it revolted me to want to show any kind of gratitude to Kruger. Before I could speak, Tweedy stepped out from the cockpit, looking worse than before. "Boss," he rasped, "now entering Elysium airspace. We'll be at Delacourt's shortly."

"Git the shields up," Kruger barked, "I don't wanna take any chances…"

Tweedy complied, deftly turning the correct controls. I wondered why Kruger would want to put the shields up in a protected airspace. Elysium would never sacrifice their image by shooting down a carrier over the heads of the privileged. Though the government had the people wrapped around their steely fingers, image was everything. Propaganda was hopelessly crammed down throats to keep opinions suffocated. If anyone on Elysium had ever thought for themselves, they would see how weak their government truly was. Still, the fact that Kruger wanted the shields up unnerved me.

We touched down and the ship's door opened. Sweet, warm air washed through the cold ship cabin. After three years of living in the slums, and shivering myself to sleep every night, I was actually pleased to inhale the scent of my home. A waft of alcohol and cigar smoke drifted in front of me. Crowe held a gun pointed towards my face.

"Up you get, sweetheart," he growled, keeping his distance for fear of ending up like his comrade.

I stood slowly, my arms staying behind my back to show that I wasn't about to fight. I was lead first out of the carrier. Crowe walked behind me, keeping me at gunpoint.

I walked out to see the exclusive industrial hanger of the Elysian government. Stark white walls bore the symbol of the Civil Cooperation Bureau. I trembled as I saw three executives standing several feet away from Kruger's ship. Two of them wore stiff black suits and stood on either side of the third. The third stood astute in a snowy white suit, and her skin was as pale as her milky white silk scarf. If there was anyone who defined the image of Elysium, it was Secretary Gabriella Delacourt.

"Bring the prisoner forth." Secretary Delacourt's artificially accented voice rang clear through the hanger, echoing harshly off the stone walls. I was pushed forward by the barrel of Crowe's gun. The fact that I was being regarded as a prisoner enraged me. I felt like a prisoner in Kruger's hands, yes, but at least I was regarded as a human being. Here, under Delacourt's fascist glare, I felt like utter scum.

I was pushed to my knees by the butt of Crowe's gun as Delacourt looked down at me. The rumors were right; I shivered from the icy cold of her glare, the intensity of which made my skin crawl. At this point, I'd prefer the vile Agent Kruger over this icy bitch.

"Well done, Agent 32, you are relieved. We'll take it from here." She continued to look at me with a disdainful glare. I stared fiercely back at her, plastering on all the courage I could muster.

I hadn't noticed that Kruger had walked up to stand beside me, facing Delacourt obediently. He only stared ahead, not even looking down at Delacourt. She glared up at him, dwarfed easily by his sheer size. Despite his size, I had never seen Kruger look so small.

"Yes, Secretary Delacourt," he stated mechanically. I could hear clear spite in his voice as he clenched his hands into fists behind his back. He took a small step back. Delacourt, though not amused with his behaviour and irritated with his presence, continued.

"Protea Angelico," she addressed me by a name I had not been called since I was deported, looking off a lavender form, no doubt made from the finest wood pulp. "Formerly Citizen 3073 of Elysium, you have been charged with theft from the government, and arson of Elysian property on Earth." She turned her full attention to me. "You were deported, your Elysian citizenship suspended. You have family here, non?"

The mention of my family flared my attention. Delacourt saw my eyes widen and snapped her fingers once. A door opened from somewhere behind me. I heard feet shuffling across the stone floor. I craned my head to see what I dreaded most; my mother, two young sisters and brother were walked into the hanger, hands bound, at gunpoint. I uttered a soft whimper as my family, four wealthy and refined citizens of Elysium became prisoners before my very eyes.

Just then, four of five armoured men rushed into the hanger, all were led by one in a suit. Their leader was Mark Delacourt, I could tell from the way he carried himself.

"What is the meaning of this, Gabriella?" Mark demanded forcefully, obviously confused as to why, his investigator, was back on Elysium.

"So nice of you to join us, Mark," Delacourt cooed to her husband. "Fortunately, I have everything under control." She snapped her fingers once again and called her bots to action. My youngest sister squealed with terror as an Armadyne security droid clamped its digits around her arm. I couldn't control my outrage seeing her in danger.

"Don't touch her!" I tried to stand, but felt Crowe's strong hand on my shoulder, pushing me down.

"Gabriella, once again, I ask, what is the meaning of this?" Mark's tone was raised as his confusion went unanswered. He looked at me, but addressed his wife. "Why is Protea here?"

"This former citizen has continued to be a nuisance to Elysium from Earth three years after her deportation… Under your orders, am I correct?" Delacourt shot her husband daggers. She wasn't the most ethical government official on Elysium; after all, she used Agent Kruger to do her dirty work. Having her own husband double-cross her in order to continue unauthourized actions behind her back, however, she could not stand for. "She has been brought back to be correctly apprehended."

Mark Delacourt stood dumfounded at the cunning actions of his wife. He didn't bother to vouch for me or my family, he only stood there. My anger towards the politicians of Elysium boiled over. Enraged at the injustice and the treatment of innocent Elysian citizens, my family, gave me an extreme adrenaline rush.

With renewed strength, I lashed backwards with my arms, striking Crowe's hard metal helmet. I knocked him back briefly, but a moment was all I needed as I got to my feet and sprinted towards my family.

My freedom was brief, and the cobra struck. I felt Kruger's talons wrap around my arms tightly, stopping my flight. "Not so fast, princess…" He hugged his arms around me from behind as I cried desperately for my family.

Delacourt had snapped her fingers again. My family was now being lined up. Each one of them was pushed to their knees, with an Armadyne bot aiming a gun at each of their heads.

"Citizens 2998, 3079, 3080 and 3081, your Elysian citizenship has now been formerly revoked under the charge of aiding a criminal of Elysium." Men came by each of them and put a laser to their wrists, removing their identity as a citizen of Elysium. The Medbays could not heal them now.

"NO!" I screamed, struggling desperately against Kruger's grasp. "No, please, no! They're innocent! Don't hurt them, please! Do whatever you want to me, just don't hurt them!"

Delacourt looked straight at me. I couldn't hear her next words. "I intend to."

It happened in an instant, but it felt like an eternity.

Delacourt gave the order to her bots, and they fired. My family dropped one at a time to the cold stone floor, blood streaming from the back of their heads. There was no Medbay on Elysium that could heal them now. My little brother, an innocent boy who would have turned thirteen two months ago, stared at me with glossy eyes, mouthing the words "it's okay" slowly. I saw the life leave them as he fell to the floor. My vision started to blur and my ears began to feel muffled. I heard a faraway screaming, and wondered who it was who was crying so desperately.

I realized it was me.

I could not pry my eyes away from my family as they lay dead on the floor. My vision began to blacken as I felt myself being dragged away. I blacked out, the last picture in my head my family lying dead on the cold, Elysian floor and Secretary Delacourt standing tall with a tight smile on her fiendish, pale lips.