Warning: There is some mention of past sexual assault.
Jason paced his room in the dark between the bunk and the cupboards, where there was free space to not run into anything. His heart raced; he tried to calm it down.
There's no reason to be afraid. They're not coming to get me.
But he couldn't make himself believe it.
Because there was no way to know.
Perhaps Zar was back already—it didn't take that long to recover from a concussion. Unless it was a really bad one…. Jason couldn't help but hope Zar had permanent damage.
One thing Ali did for me. What I couldn't do myself.
Rage burned through him—at himself, at Zar, at Ali. At being trapped in this room, at being at the mercy of whoever wanted to drag him out.
Fear trickled through his veins, the fear he'd woken up to, shivering in the dark, his silk shirt soaked with sweat. He didn't recall a nightmare, but he was convinced for a moment they were coming for him, were going to drag him back upstairs…. At least he was conscious this time, although he didn't know how much of an advantage that was…
But his heart drummed in his ears, and there was no other sound, the darkness swallowing any light or vibration.
He'd tossed and turned for a few more minutes, but his heart was pounding too hard to go back to sleep, so he got up and tried to work off the energy, convince himself there was nothing to fear.
I need sleep, he told himself. I need to be at my best in order to take them down. He doubted he could go back to sleep, though; there was this nagging feeling that if he did, they'd drug him again and he'd wake up in the Gold Room.
There was no reason to believe this would happen; but there was no reason to believe it wouldn't.
That was the problem. You could never know if you'd just be left in peace, or if they would beat you, shock you, or drag you to a room to sate their perverted desires.
You could fight.
But he had to acknowledge that no matter how much you fought, they had the upper hand. They could crush you without blinking an eye. There were so many of them, and they had all the power.
That was why you had to be careful and secret and clever. And attack them at their weakest point.
Which happened to be Zar.
He was a key to the outside, and he wasn't Yavesh; he didn't have the discipline they had.
He was also dangerous—but he really wasn't tough, he was just a bully, a spoiled brat who took what he wanted without a fair fight.
Jason would have to even the playing field.
It would be tricky.
But it would be satisfying.
He let the image of beating Zar down hum through his mind. He grasped the top of one of the kitchen chairs and let that satisfying vision overtake him.
Perhaps this is a dream I can go to sleep to….
And he savored the brief moment when he'd strangled Zar—the one sweet taste of triumph before—
Fear twined through him again, phantom hands caressing his skin
Fingers grasping him—the sensation vivid in the dark. Fingernails slicing into his flesh. Unable to see what was done to him, the monstrous being almost amorphous, lips claiming him— He screamed and the being laughed, crooned love-words but they were hollow, like the whispers of a demon. Sickness seized him and he struggled but he was tamped down and the hand yanked back his hair, teeth biting his shoulder, fingers tracing the whip scars, while the other hand violated him
Just a pantomime, barely touching really…
But still a parody of something else, twisted into something unrecognizable, yet still enough elements in common it tore into his heart—
A deep horror that he had been touched by someone like this, when he belonged to another…. It was against his will, but still, it counted, couldn't help but count… darkened the edges of what had been beautiful, tainted the wonder and filtered it behind a grimy film – he couldn't see the beauty anymore… the hands had taken its place, wringing cries from him
And shot pure agony through him—a kind of pain he had never even imagined….
Almost a relief though to not be touched semi-gently by the golden being. Less like … assault and more like torture, more familiar…. Yet still with the miasma of perversion carving through it.
And the final mockery—something he didn't want to think of. Hadn't had to much, since the shock wounds were worse, but now the cuts were slightly infected which sent new waves of anxiety through him.
Will I be scarred? Will he have claimed part of me, even though he didn't get all he wanted?
I can't let him win.
Can't let fear get the better of me.
Have to crush the flashbacks—not let them overwhelm me. Or I'm lost.
Can't afford anything that drags me down—have to hone my body and mind. Become the agent I was. Shed anything superfluous.
Not think of the assault except to let anger surge through me. Cling to the memories of strangling him, and keep the image in my mind of beating him down, making the little brat writhe in agony—
He almost laughed at this, and in the purity of the darkness, he barely felt any guilt or reverberations that he should feel guilty.
Because he had to survive.
To survive in this place, you had to get your hands dirty.
Besides, people like that are not people. They're demons with human faces. It's all twisted here, all fair game.
Of course, I won't stoop to their level. I could never become them. I will kill only if I have to. I won't torture. Except if it's necessary, not for pure pleasure. Such a thing is alien to me; I'm immune to it.
Collateral damage isn't acceptable; innocents must be protected.
I will never give in to what they are. I cannot let them become part of me by yielding to what they want or submitting to their 'supremacy'—their power doesn't make them right. Just gives them more ability to torture people.
If worse comes to worst—I won't let them take what is not theirs. I won't let them get any further than they have.
If it's clear there is no other way out—I will leave this world rather than give myself to someone else by not cutting off their access to me.
How will you do it? What if they've chained you?
I do have a weapon now— His heart leaped.
He grabbed the small sword in his pocket. Lifted it out, trying to see its bright blade in the dark.
He held it, balanced it on his fingers. It was light, but surprisingly well-made for something meant to be merely decorative. Well, as a letter-opener, it was functional, but his purpose was definitely not for opening letters…
I've got to hide it. Some way to keep it with me without them finding it….
Or should I keep it in here for now.
Not risk our plan.
Hopefully they'll leave me alone until then…
I have to be on my guard. And I have to become the best I can be—with what I have.
Ignore injuries unless they protest too much—I don't want to over-strain something. Listen to my body without coddling it. Gain strength—as much as possible.
Most of all, though… keep my mind in check. Don't let them get to me. Don't let the one who's not worthy of anything good worm his way through my mind, slicing out anything effective…
He hid the knife in a jar of sugar, then took both the jars of flour out of the lower cupboard and lifted them like weights until the wound in his shoulder began to scream for relief.
Then he jogged back and forth until he was nearly dripping with sweat.
He collapsed into bed, exhausted, but feeling better than he had in weeks.
He was working toward a goal. He was not giving them one inch of victory.
The horrible images receded from his mind. He cuddled into the blanket and drifted toward comforting dreams.
Boom boom boom boom!
He shot awake, his heart lurching. He'd only barely sunk into a dream, its remnants clinging to his mind like a photographic negative.
He swung over the edge of the bed, expecting guards to charge into his room, but the sound tapped again—this time softer. Or had it been soft in the beginning?
The sound was coming from the door. Cautiously, he stepped over to it, his muscles aching, especially his biceps and calves.
A good kind of pain, overriding the other.
"Who is it?" he asked softy. Why would anyone be knocking—no slave could open it, and a guard wouldn't bother knocking.
"It's Jarl," said the voice on the other side.
"Oh." Vivid images of last night slashed through his mind. He wasn't particularly eager to be reminded of it.
But Jarl hadn't done anything to him. He'd been nothing but kind.
"I'd say come in, but… I can't unlock it."
"Ali gave me temporary authorization, but I won't come in if you don't want me to."
"It's okay."
The door opened and Jarl lumbered inside, his form towering in the room, making it look even smaller. The door shut behind him, and it was pitch black for a moment, then the ambient light began to glow dimly.
He carried a paper bag. "I wouldn't bother you," said Jarl, "but Ali wanted to send down your pills. You need to take your antibiotics, and there's some extra painkiller and restorative."
"Restorative?"
Jarl nodded. "Ali wanted you to have the rest of his."
"Really?" Jason's heart surged with gratitude, the he realized there could be strings attached.
"He wants you to get better— he feels responsible for not… getting there sooner. And he feels guilty for…. What he did last night." Jarl eyed him, blushing slightly.
"Oh." Just thinking about it made his skin crawl, and that sickly feeling crept over him. He wanted to cut off that bit of time as if it had never been.
"He wants you to know…. It was a moment of weakness and he would never have done it sober, but that's no excuse. He wants to make up for it."
"So—everything can just go back to normal now." Jason couldn't help the scorn in his voice.
Jarl shook his head, shaggy hair shaking. "He says he doesn't want to pressure you. He's going to keep his distance from now on— to punish himself, he said, and to prove he's not out to get you. But he… didn't realize he had it in him to become like them and hurt you just when you needed total understanding after that—" Jarl hesitated. "I don't want to use the word he used."
"I get the picture. So you're his messenger, his proxy."
"He has been good to me. But at the same time—I'm not him. I… wanted to come down here, to sort of make it up to you too. For being part of this."
"I'm sorry I said that. You're definitely not Ali. You've been totally normal when I needed it most."
"I hide away for my own sake. But if I can help others…." He drew out a package from the paper bag. The smell of sausage made Jason's mouth water. He almost snatched the package to his heart. "I've been afraid…. I've been surviving. But now that I've seen the aftermath…. What people out there actually go through… I don't know if I can live with myself if I don't step out of my comfort zone. I don't want… to get out of Ali's realm of protection, but it's really cowardice to hide up there… cramped in my room…. Serving… barely feeling… just… immersing in fantasy most of the time, drowning in dreams…." His eyes flickered and he looked away. "To do that is to suffocate slowly. Even if it means I might—become a target… I need to do more. Maybe use my privilege—at least I live Above—to help. Let me know if I can do more."
He set the food package on the kitchen table, along with the paper bag, which rattled with the sound of pills.
Jason was drawn to it, but he said, "Maybe if you can sneak down some more food… give the others something better than what the cafeteria has—I can barely call it food after being up there." One good thing about my time with Ali, he acknowledged. Several really… the time and space to rest, and some valuable information…. Worth the small bit of trouble Ali was…. Not as if he took advantage of my incapacity except for one fleeting moment… which admittedly I encouraged in a way….
"Let me know if there's anything else… perhaps I can ask Ali for it."
"I might think of something…. How will I contact you?"
"You can call through the pay phones. And Ali will send the cell phone soon."
"Tell him… thank you."
Jarl inclined his head.
"Thank you."
Perhaps…. He'd have to see if he was trustworthy… might be a great asset to the team… and he did have access to Above… and a connection to Ali, which, Jason admitted, was a good thing. To have someone sympathetic, even if he could never be totally trusted. Already he'd given Jason more than he probably should have.
Jarl stepped swiftly out of the room, and the door shut behind him.
Jason sat at the table to eat the sausage. Glorious spices he'd never tasted before. And soft, cheesy scrambled eggs. Rye toast soaked with melted butter.
Just as he finished, the chime sounded. A few minutes later, the door opened.
His heart plunged from delight to dread, his stomach twisting with a keen piercing pain.
It was one thing to determine to forge forward.
It was another to face your enemy.
Guards charged into his room and he backed away before reminding himself to stand his ground.
"What is it?"
One of the guards laughed. "We're here to take you to the showers."
"Isn't it time for breakfast?"
"You need a shower more than you need food." He grabbed Jason's arm. The other grabbed his other arm and they dragged him out into the hallway, dimly lit by glowing lights along the corners near the floor and ceiling.
"Where are the others?"
The other guard chuckled. "You're getting the VIP treatment. No one else gets the showers to themselves. In fact, you'll get to shower alone from now on. Isn't that nice?" He patted Jason's shoulder.
"I suppose…." It would be nice to not have to shower with a lot of people. Especially now… he felt more vulnerable, even though any safety before had been an illusion.
The guards stepped inside the small entryway lined with clean towels and wooden benches. They let go of Jason's arms, but the one on his left, who had slightly longer hair than standard, sticking up with substantial gel, drew out his shockrod and twirled it.
"Now undress," he said.
"I—usually take a shower in the stalls."
"They're off limits from now on."
"Why?"
The guard raised the shockrod toward his chin. "This is the only reason you need to know. Don't worry, we won't watch. Much." He chuckled.
The other guard, who had a slight beard, laughed raucously. He snatched a blue towel from one of the hangers and tossed it to Jason. He caught it and stepped back, wanting to head to one of the semi-stalls which would offer some privacy at least.
"No, right here," said the first guard, who Jason called Gel for lack of a better word. Wasn't worth thinking of something better. "Don't want to get those fancy clothes all dirty. Nowhere to hang them in the open showers."
Jason looked down; he'd forgotten he was still wearing the clothes Ali had given him yesterday. They had been very comfortable to sleep in— hadn't rubbed on his wounds at all. He hated to take them off. It wasn't like he hadn't had a bath just the other day.
"Go ahead," said Gel. "Take them off."
Jason stood, gripping the towel. Not wanting to comply.
But the guard tapped his arm with the shockrod and even though it wasn't on, tremors raced through him, sparkling with the cold-hot tingle of electricity. He lifted his hand to his shirt, fingers trembling, turning to the side to give them the least view possible. Then he hung the shirt on the hook the towel had been on.
The other guard, Beardy, gestured at the shirt with his shockrod. "Where'd you get those clothes anyway? They definitely aren't standard slave issue."
"F-from Ali."
"Ohho, Ali. So you've got a new admirer. I wonder what Elena will have to say about that." He laughed as if it were the funniest joke ever.
His face heated. "It's not like that."
Beardy raised his eyebrows, smirking.
With the shockrods threatening—too bad Ali hadn't taken access from all the guards—Jason had no choice but to undress the rest of the way, but he kept the towel in front of him so he felt he was reasonably shielded. He focused on ignoring the guards.
But couldn't ignore them when Gel tapped his back. "Definitely Zar's handiwork." He glanced at the other guard.
"I guess it was Golden Boy that took him," said Beardy. "Is he Zar's now? Elena doesn't usually let others access her exclusives."
"I think Jason would know the answer to that." He jabbed the shockrod into Jason's side, just as he was wrapping the towel around his waist. "What about it? Did he break you in?"
Shivers tore through him; gold flakes flickered in front of his eyes, landed like ashes on his skin.
"One way to find out," said Beardy. "Let's check." He angled his shockrod toward the towel.
Jason tore away— the cement cold on the soles of his feet. He tried to open a stall but it wouldn't budge so he slid behind a half-stall in the middle of the room.
Thankfully the guards didn't pursue him; they just laughed and joked among themselves in the entryway.
Trembling, he turned on the shower, the towel draped over the stall to the left. There was a ledge for soap and shampoo— and the shampoo was lavender scented, not the vaguely mint-scented shampoo he'd used before.
Elena must be giving me this 'privilege'.
Tuning everything else out, he let the water spill over his face, filter down over his body. The heat felt wonderful. But he dared not look directly at his skin. When he did, he kept seeing glitter clinging to it, and when he tried to wipe it off, it vanished before he could get to it, like a star you tried to look at directly.
He closed his eyes and washed himself, conjuring up the image of Connie beside him. Connie caressing him comfortingly. Memories of her in the shower with him blended with images of her in the future, bringing him healing just by her presence, washing all of this horror away with the gentle brush of her fingertips.
The next thing he knew, his knees gave way and he grasped the barrier to stay standing. He had almost nodded off to sleep.
He realized he probably hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep… still needed to rest after his ordeal. And his time with Ali hadn't been totally restful….
There was nothing to be done about the guards… he would have to bide his time and endure their mockery. Until he could make his move and rip the shockrods from them.
It was ironic that now he had less to fear from the Admins than the guards, if the Admin were relying on autoshocks at least. Probably best they didn't find out his weren't working… so he'd have to steer clear of the Admins if possible and if he couldn't, submit to them….
It would be hard to stay strong while fear still threaded through him, and while having to act submissive. He'd have to feed on his anger until the time was right—then let it all out as he crushed them—
He dressed in slave-standard clothes and shut out the taunts of the guards. If they weren't shocking him, he had no reason to pay attention to their vile innuendo.
He almost cried with relief when they left him alone in the hallway.
He headed toward the Cathedral, the one place that somehow didn't let the evil of this place taint it. Although he was glad to be Below rather than Above, back with the people he cared about, he still felt disoriented. It felt like he'd been away for a long time, even though it had only been five days. He wanted to find out how Kara and Karim were, and everyone else, but he wasn't sure who to approach first, and everything was a blur as he stepped onto the flat stones, into the vast chamber echoing with murmuring voices and running water and the chirp of birds.
He wandered over to the fountain and clung to the cement edge, its grains rough against his palms.
Just breathe.
You're alone, you're safe, no one's bothering you. Take advantage of this.
He closed his eyes and the tang of water against stone mixed with the fragrance of tree blossoms. A slight hint of citrus. The skylight glowed against his eyelids, shedding a trace of warmth, perhaps an illusion, but he'd take it.
He sat on the rim of the fountain and held out his hands, palms up, letting the relative freedom infuse him.
For the first time in a while, he could feel God's presence. Part of him wanted to ask, why wouldn't you let me sense you up there? But he ignored the impulse and just immersed in the warm glow spreading through his body. After all, God had been looking after him—it had been his own fault he'd let his guard down. God didn't prevent everything bad… but he had prevented the worst this time, given him an unlikely guardian angel, and given him precious days to rest and recover.
And there was this space now, out of his cloying room, where he didn't feel like the heavy stone was gradually crushing his lungs…
A tear slipped down his cheek.
He opened his eyes.
People were milling around; he couldn't see them very well, since his vision was blurred. But none of them looked like people he knew well… perhaps everything had changed while he was gone. Perhaps everyone had been switched for others— taken away or killed or permanently injured—
Panic hit him but his limbs were fused to the cement so he couldn't bring himself to get to his feet. Now that the constant pressure was gone, and with the lack of sleep and need to recover the rest of the way, his body was melting into a vague amorphous form…
Exactly the opposite of what I need… need to recover instantly—
Please, God, let me get better soon.
The extra restorative should help…..
It's not like I experienced the worst. Just got to keep moving forward. I'm recovered enough for that. I'm privileged; I got to rest and recover when most people are just thrown back here, hardly even any medical attention…
"Hey." A figure sidled up to him, thin with long dark hair.
He flinched. Hated that he couldn't control his reactions.
It was Mira, no threat.
She slid onto the fountain beside him, giving him generous space, and glanced at him. "This is one of my favorite places. I like to just sit here and think."
"There's something about the Cathedral…."
"Cathedral?"
"That's what I call it."
She swept a strand of hair back. "It does kind of remind me of back home—" She shook her head, wincing. "Well at least I get something nice here. Haven't been anywhere else but the common room or the library since…" Her eyes darkened. She looked down, a grayish tinge to her rich golden-brown skin. A spark returned to her eyes, though tempered by a certain guardedness. "I'm glad you're back."
"Me too."
Her eyes searched his. "Are you… I don't want to go into anything but. Are you okay?"
Jason nodded. "Right now I'm just… trying to… readjust."
"I'm sorry – I don't want to bother you."
"That's not what I mean. I was sort of wondering if anyone I knew was still around… How are you doing?"
"No one's been bothering me; they know I'm usually more trouble than I'm worth. I even fought them away from Pedro the other day."
"Really?" Admiration stirred in his heart.
"They were dragging him to the Entertainment Room. He has such a gentle soul…. They don't deserve to touch him at all…" She closed her eyes. Then lifted her arm, pulling back her sleeve. "I got shocked but it was so worth it." Lightning bolts etched her skin, dark red.
"Did you get some salve?"
She nodded, flipping back a dark curl back from her face. "I've had worse." She slid the sleeve back down.
"You're very brave, Mira."
"Can't let them beat me. I don't belong here. Not fading into the woodwork like some people. Not letting Pedro do that, either. I'll drag him out kicking and screaming if I have to." Her eyes flashed.
"We're going to get out soon," he spoke in code.
"We're bringing Pedro too."
"So you guys decided that while I was gone?"
"I did." She pressed her hand to her heart.
"He'll be a good addition."
"He is strong, and smart. And brave—if he figures that out. Sometimes he freezes up. Can't help it… but he's got to get over that before…" She looked at him searchingly. "We can't bring everyone, you know."
"What do you mean?"
"We're pushing it with Zakhar, but Serhii won't go without him, and we need Serhii. We're even pushing it with Elliot…. Don't get me started on the kids or Vanya. Or Marie."
"Mira—"
"I know I'm not in the inner circle, but you have to be smart about this. Too many people will mess everything up. I hate leaving the others behind, but we need the best chance of success. That way, we'll be able to get out and send the cops back for the others."
"I suppose… I suppose you're right," he acknowledged grudgingly.
"Maybe we should add Jenna though. She's strong and fierce, and she's really flexible."
"This is probably enough."
"So…not Marie or Vanya?"
He nodded. He didn't mention the most vulnerable of all– Elliot's son and Farah, who, as far as Jason knew, was still in a coma. He wished he didn't have to leave anyone behind.
"We do have to bring Alelu."
"Jason—"
"Elliot won't leave without her."
"Perhaps we should come back for him."
"He's been doing better, and he's got agent skills."
"I suppose."
"I might want to add someone else who would be an asset."
"Who's that?"
He was about to nominate Jarl when Pedro said "Hey!" and strode up to them.
Mira jumped off the fountain. "Hey!" She glanced around then embraced him. He closed his eyes and squeezed her snugly.
Pedro and Mira leaned back against the fountain, fingertips touching in the shadows between them.
"Are you sure—" Jason said.
"Monitors don't catch this," said Mira.
"Just be careful."
"We will," said Pedro in halting code. "Are you… okay?" He looked concerned.
"Getting better. How about you?"
"I'm good."
"No, you're not." Mira lifted his arm and showed the bruise on his wrist and splint on his ring finger.
Pedro pulled away, hiding his hand in his sleeve. "It's nothing."
"They practically crushed it. Might not be the same again."
"What happened?" said Jason.
"He was fighting them, and they beat him up."
"Mira stopped them." Pedro's eyes shone with admiration.
"I couldn't let them take you." She caressed his shoulder, barely brushing the fabric of his shirt.
"Mira tells me that you're in our group now," said Jason.
"She kind of just—brought me in. I'm sorry—I know I'm probably not what you need—"
"You're exactly what we need." He could sense that when it came down to it, Pedro could be counted on. And now he fully realized any further decisions had to be made with the focus of optimizing the potential to escape.
Pedro signed the code, a surreptitious version of "Thank You". "I will do all I can."
They headed to the Common Room. At the back corner by the phones, Sahara was playing Scrabble with Elliot. They were so into the game they didn't notice when Jason approached. Mira and Pedro said hi and then settled in to play a game of Risk a few tables away.
"Jason—would you like to play?" said Sahara. "We just started."
"Sure," said Jason. "I can't say I'm an expert, but I've played quite a few games. Lots of online Scrabble with C—" His heart lurched. He sat down, the room faded for a moment. Longing burning through him, cutting access to reality.
Immense sympathy shot through Sahara's eyes. She slid the bag of letters over to him.
He grabbed some letters and held them in his palm, the small squares smooth and cool against it. For a moment he couldn't even register what letters they were. He set them on the holder and focused on one, then the next. V. Not the most auspicious beginning, but at least he had some vowels. Perhaps he could use the U later… although you could never count on getting the Q….
They played the next few words in silence; the room was filled with soft murmurs, quiet rustling. A peaceful room, although the massive threat pulsed against its walls.
Jason couldn't help but glimpse the fading rope burns on his wrist as he lifted his hand to the C…. He added "Char" to Sahara's "Red" and she clapped softly.
Elliot looked at Jason from across the table. He glanced down again, his face pained, and then said, "When … did you come back down?"
"Last night. I came by myself." He couldn't help the pride in his voice.
"By yourself?" said Sahara, brow furrowed.
"I went back down to my room. Without anyone escorting me."
"How did you get out?" Her eyes were guarded, as if she wasn't sure she should approach this subject directly.
"Ali let me out."
"You were with Ali?" said Elliot, surprise in his voice.
He hesitated. "After the first night."
"Did he hurt you?" Anger stirred in the depths of her eyes.
Even though resentment still laced through him at Ali, nearly kissing him couldn't exactly be called hurting…. "He helped me."
"So someone else took you up."
"Zar." His throat constricted.
She leaned her head in her hand, looking sick.
Elliot paled, face seized with shock and horror. He seemed to shrink in on himself, one hand frozen on the table.
Jason wanted to reassure them. "I'm fine. See?" He showed them his arms with their fading bruises and the almost invisible rope scars. He couldn't help the twinge of guilt— they probably hadn't had the luxurious recovery he had.
Sahara narrowed her eyes. "If it was Zar…. He wasn't easy on you."
Jason's heart plummeted. He sank back into the ghost of the pool, the flakes gray as ash, pain throbbing through his shoulder, the dribbling blood stark red.
A hand on his arm. He flinched, almost knocking over his letters. He folded his hands, not wanting to overreact again.
I should be over that. It's in the past… Elena probably won't let Zar take me away again.
"Jason." Sahara's eyes struck against his, earnest, gleaming like dark swords. "If you'd like to speak about it—let me know."
"There's nothing to speak of." Jason wanted to make one thing clear. He wanted no one to have any illusions it had been more than it had. "He didn't—I mean—he wasn't. He was under orders to—He had limits." He finished finally, his shaking voice belying the insistence of 'nothing'.
Relief sparked in Elliot's eyes; he shifted a little in his seat.
"So—you just went to Ali's place after?" said Sahara.
"He helped me get away from Zar. I was able to… recover there. I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"No one else gets such VIP treatment."
"We all know it's not really a blessing. She doesn't want you…hurt too much."
"I probably would have been brought back down right away if not for… her favoritism," he admitted. He felt sick.
"Just let me know if there's anything I can do."
"Okay."
"Me too," said Elliot, his indigo eyes shining.
"Thanks. I just… I don't want to dwell on it. And I want to move forward. We've got to—" he switched to code, "get back on track."
"We can have a book club meeting this afternoon," said Sahara.
"You are in it now?"
"Serhii invited me. I hope you don't mind."
"I want you there. You have an instinct for these things."
"For intelligence?"
He nodded.
"I never considered myself a spy… but if I have some kind of latent skill, I want to use it." Her face shone with eagerness and hope.
Elliot glanced at his letters, then looked back at Jason. "I didn't see you at the cafeteria."
"They… took me to the showers instead." He cringed internally, not wanting to remember the humiliation.
"Why?" said Sahara.
"Elena's orders. I'm going to have to…go there alone from now on."
"That's good thing I suppose."
"Well…. I'm not exactly alone."
"The guards." Her eyes dawned with outrage.
"I didn't have to skip breakfast at least."
"You have some snacks left?" said Elliot.
He shook his head. "Ali sent some food down. I wish I could've shared it with you."
"You deserve it," said Sahara.
"I'll share it next time. And I got some painkiller and restorative. I'll share it with anyone who needs it. I don't really need it anymore."
"Are you sure?"
"Just let me know if there's someone in pain they're not giving meds to." He glanced at Pedro, who was laughing with Mira. "He probably needs something for his broken finger."
"You really are the most extraordinary person."
"I'm nothing special."
"Such kindness is unusual… especially here. It tends to harden you. You've got to fight for every inch of humanity. But for you… it's natural."
"It might change if I'm here longer."
"Somehow I don't think so." She looked at Elliot. "You're the same way."
"I'm broken."
"You found the strength to protect a little child. And protect Jason, even though you were scared out of your wits. That's a hero in my book." She leaned her chin in her palm. "I suppose we do have an extraordinary bunch… heroes, all of them. People pushing against the tide. But you, Jason—you're the one who brought us all together. Gave us hope. You're keeping us together, too."
"It's more you than me."
"When you were taken, we kind of… fell apart. I tried to help stitch things together, but I was inadequate. In the end—we made ourselves move forward—because of you. We had no idea what was happening; we thought you might be gone forever. We pledged to go move ahead in your honor. Because it's what you'd want us to do. Even though we weren't sure we could do it without you."
"Serhii is more vital than I am."
"It's been hard for him, since… Well. When Kara and Karim were taken, it shook us. Especially after…what Michelle said to them. Now, Kara and Karim are just communicating from a distance. He longs to help her but he won't risk her safety."
"How is she doing?"
"They let her stay in her room. She came out for breakfast today though. She's still… so very weak, it's heartbreaking. Michelle—she basically tears people apart. Maylin has more… finesse. Doesn't want to wear out her slaves too quickly." She grimaced.
"That's why we have to-" He signed Escape in code. "Before it happens to any of us again."
Fear crossed her face. "I might be next…. It's been so nice, Rave's been away. That's why he didn't punish me for shaving my hair. But now—I have a feeling he'll be back soon. He's drawn to me like a magnet, he always says." Her voice was hoarse with dread.
"If he comes down here—I'll protect you."
"Don't risk yourself."
"Their fail-safe is gone."
"For all of us?"
"Just for me. We can figure out how to get it out of all of you."
Her eyes shone. "We would have a chance."
In his room he did some more exercise, hammering out his routine. Then he collapsed onto the couch and watched the Scenery channel. It was so soothing he drifted off to sleep.
At lunch he was able to sit with the others, although Karim sat at another table. At least Zakhar was mostly healed and feeling better.
Kara was pale and wan, bruises marring her skin, including harsh fingerprints on her wrists and arms. She trembled and it was hard for her to focus. But she did smile several times, a flicker of light in her tired eyes.
After lunch, he helped Kara to his room. She used a walking stick, shuffling slowly. As they turned into the hallway, she tapped the cane with her thumb. "Karim made this for me," she said. "They don't seem to mind so far." She looked at him, wonder in her eyes. "He chopped it from a tree himself and carved it." She slid her fingers over the designs of cherry blossoms. "He knows how much I miss—" Her voice caught. Tears slipped down her cheeks. "But I miss him most. I think we could at least look at each other but he's scared it'll happen again… he loves my life more than his…" She sank into the chair and covered her face with her hands.
She cried, her small body wracked with sobs. Jason stood in the center of the room, not sure what to do. Then he got the pills from the table and poured a glass of water. Sat down in the couch beside her. After a moment, she reached out feebly and he handed them to her. She drank, eyes closed, cheeks shining with tears.
"Thank you," she said.
"Just focus on getting better."
"Soon?" she signed.
"Soon."
She shuffled out of the room before his door closed. This time, the solitude pressed in on him, shadows threatening to overwhelm his vision. He sat down on a kitchen chair, no energy to get up and exercise. His mind too disturbed for sleep.
At supper, Karim sat at their table and Jason had a chance to ask how he was doing. "I'm fine," he said. "She just kept me overnight. It… wasn't any worse than normal. But Michelle—" He clenched his fists. "If… part of your plan was to go after her, I'd gladly take that role." His eyes burned.
"I'll let you know if it is."
"I know I have to be controlled. But—I saw some of what was done to her and I—" He closed his eyes, a crease in his brow. "I love her so much but I can't even speak to her—Michelle took that away from me—"
Jason laid his hand gently on his shoulder. "Maybe… there is something I can do."
"What?"
"I have more…access to things now. Maybe I can give you some privacy." He thought about Ali's offer of giving him his room for a day. "Then you can be together."
"That would be—like a dream."
"Maybe we could even—" He didn't want to offer something beyond his ability; wasn't sure if Ali's hospitality extended to others.
"What?"
"Well…. If you wanted… we could somehow hold a ceremony—"
Karim's eyes stirred with longing. "I…thought about that but I wasn't sure how…."
"We could masquerade it as something else. Like a festival or…. maybe do it upstairs."
He shook his head. "Not upstairs. Too… close…."
"Cathedral?"
He nodded.
"It'd just be symbolic, but—"
"Not just symbolic! Rick is a minister."
"Really?"
"We don't have the papers but it's more legal than anything they do. We would be bonded in the sight of God. We could show our love for each other—show we're not going to be crushed by them."
"Perhaps we could get you a small honeymoon… upstairs…"
"Or we'd wait till outside. I just want to be as close to Kara as I can. I want to give her so much… after what they've done…." His voice softened to a whisper. "Outside—we could be together without any of this and even…have a family…." The intense yearning in his eyes was too intense and Jason looked away, his heart aching for them—and for the one he loved.
But at least I will be with her soon.
I promise, my love.
As Jason was finishing supper, Alelu came skipping up to them. Her hair was in a messy ponytail and she wore pants and a green shirt—a lot less dolled up. Immense relief hit him, how much more comfortable and at ease she looked. She could move around freely, not burdened by her tormenter.
"Have you been having fun playing?" said Jason.
"We were having all kinds of fun." She looked at him solemnly. "Where did you go?"
"They took me Above," said Jason.
Her face fell. "Oh." Her cheeks flushed, her eyes darkening.
Tim raced up beside her. "Are you okay Jason?" he said, eyes wide.
He nodded. "You can see I'm not really hurt."
"Someone said Zar took you away."
"He did."
"He didn't even hurt you?"
"Just a little. Nothing I can't handle."
"He hurt me." He cradled his small body. "But not very much." He looked much older than his six years. "But he doesn't come to get me anymore."
"If he ever comes back, I'll protect you." I'll even….let myself be taken. Anything but let a child…get taken away by that monster.
"You're safe now, right? He's not coming back to get you?"
"I hope not." Not before we're prepared to lure him to his demise. "So—what games have you been playing?"
"Jump rope, tag, hide and seek…"
Alelu told him of the fun time they'd had, racing around with the other kids, and Jason was glad to know that Lila had left her alone, true to Tamara's promise.
Jason headed to the library with Sahara, Serhii, and Elliot. They drew their books from the shelf—the only novel that had three copies— Simmering Darkness by Ginger Stravinsky. They really weren't reading the book much, though. Just enough in case anyone asked about it. Some of the words they did use as code, but not to the point anyone would put two and two together.
Sahara shared her copy with Jason; he wasn't about to take his from her now that she was in their intelligence cell. They made a show of reading some passages and then began Discussion.
Serhii had obliquely asked Rick if he could tell where he'd almost escaped, but he was too afraid to say anything and Serhii didn't want to seem too eager. Elliot said that Alelu had found a secret compartment Above, a little closet she'd hidden in sometimes to get away from Lila. She had little treasures in there. It was so secret she was even hesitant to tell Elliot, and he felt bad for pressuring her. But then she'd told of her own volition some other things, as if a dam had broken. Some perhaps they could use, but he wasn't sure how yet. He added some information that he had found out while living Above with Elena, but he had to eventually stop, breathing hard, his face haunted.
Sahara told how she'd contacted Nalika. She had written a code key and put it in a small cylinder where Nalika usually sat in the Cathedral by the climbing roses. She had known Nalika back before she was filtered into the harem. To be safe, the cylinder was in a little branch. Nalika had apparently found it because she had left a message yesterday. Sahara shared it: "I am learning the code," it said in code. "Thank you!" She had drawn a little rose.
"Now we've got to introduce the subject about the escape," said Sahara.
"I would like to wait until we can be absolutely sure about her," said Serhii, "but we need to find out the layout of the harem, if there's anything we can use there. It might be our best bet as it's not monitored as much. And no one has autoshocks there."
"I don't have autoshocks either," said Jason.
"Really?"
"Ali took the monitor offline." Heat rose to his cheeks. He didn't like revealing Ali's favoritism, although it was proving helpful so far.
"Why would he do that?"
"Because… he… cares for me."
"They're never altruistic. He'll demand something sooner or later."
"I actually learned quite a few things up there."
He told them that it wouldn't be possible to use an Admin's unconscious hand to open doors, which disappointed them. But he'd also learned that if they got to an Admin's laptop, someone skilled in hacking might be able to access the system. Or perhaps coerce an Admin. He also told them Ali might be able to get something for them from the stores of weapons and drugs and that he'd already given Jason a small weapon.
"Perhaps he is the key," said Serhii. "We'll just force him to get us out."
"There might be a better way."
"Like through the harem or a secret way we haven't found yet," said Sahara.
"I found something," said Jason. "I don't know if it's a way out—but…. Ali showed me a secret passage."
"Really," said Serhii, leaning forward.
"He had zyx—gave me some. I wanted him pliable. Too pliable, it turned out, because—"
"What?"
"That doesn't matter. Jarl's room—his servant. The closet isn't finished. It's like—this place is all a façade. Or built over something else. There was a large space, leaning down into darkness. Who knows where it leads. Might've been an elevator shaft."
"Wow."
"It's a sheer drop—don't know if we could go down it."
"Could get some sort of makeshift rappelling gear… I'd be willing to try it."
"It'd have to be strong. Maybe there's another, better secret passage. If there's one, there might be more."
"If we don't find any other options, though—it'd be worth it."
"Ali also said I could—access his room sometime. I… don't know if I want to go back up there, not if he's there."
"So he did do something to you."
Jason shook his head, heart clenching. "Just—He helped me recover. Was being very respectful. It was just—probably more the zyx than anything. He didn't really do anything…. touched my face a little… Just—after what happened…."
"I… wouldn't want that either. Any of them, no matter how friendly… they still own us, still see themselves as entitled—" Guarded fury flashed through his eyes.
"We definitely can't trust him. But… we can use him…. We might have another ally. His servant, Jarl, is sympathetic."
"Can we trust him?" said Elliot. "How loyal is he to Ali?"
"He's grateful to him… but I don't think he has a strong bond to him."
"It might be useful since he's close to him."
"Also could mean he's a liability," said Serhii.
"I'll feel him out," said Jason. "I do have to be careful. He'd be a great asset—he's very tall and strong."
"Really?"
Jason nodded. "He could probably do some real damage if he wanted. He's also a really good cook." Jason couldn't help but miss his cooking after the two mediocre meals he'd had today.
"For Ali, though."
"He wants to give us something good. He said he's not satisfied with hiding out anymore—after… seeing what they did to me. He's going to try to sneak some food down for us."
"Really?" said Sahara, her eyes gleaming with eagerness.
Jason nodded.
"Can he get us anything else?" said Serhii.
"Maybe."
"Sneak something down in the food perhaps."
"Ali sent me pills this morning, so if you need painkiller or restorative…."
"Everything's been pretty laid back lately. Except…. I am probably next."
"Zar might be out of commission for a while," said Jason. "Ali hit him pretty hard."
"He hit Zar? Maybe he's got some redeeming qualities after all…."
"It's been five days."
"If he's not scared off… he'll probably be back soon."
"I was thinking—maybe we could use him too."
"Zar is a weak link…."
"If we could—lure him. We would have the upper hand. I'd be bait—"
"Or me."
"No, I'll do it."
"It's my turn. I don't want you to get any more hurt than you are."
"I'm not hurt."
He looked at Jason sadly. "I know what it is like. You've been wounded by him."
"You had it worse."
"He didn't get to me, though. I provoked him to violence, infinitely more desirable than… the other option. I made him beat me until morning— That was my victory. You weren't so lucky."
"You don't know what happened." He didn't want to dwell on this. But he wanted them to know it hadn't gone further than it had… quash any rumors, once and for all. He didn't want to tell them any of the details though….
"You don't have to tell us," said Sahara.
Elliot was huddled down, face deathly pale.
Jason didn't want to traumatize him with description, but he didn't want them to be walking on eggshells around him. They had to believe he was up to the task of escaping.
"It—wasn't rape," he said. The word caught in his throat like a large stone. It came out hoarse, barely audible. "I was off limits. Because of—Elena. So it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Pain—I've felt that before." He attempted a smile.
"He is a sadistic little jerk," said Serhii.
"The worst was… the shockrod." A burning shiver rippled through him. "Other than that… just… like… touches… so. Doesn't really matter."
"It does matter," said Serhii, voice heavy with empathy. "It is all part of what they do to us. It all… gets to us, no matter how relatively minor. Because they have all the power. They could do anything. And we're bound, and there's nothing we can do sometimes."
"It shouldn't bother me this much."
"It was horrific. He doesn't deserve to even be in the same room with you, much less—" He shook his head, looking away, face pale.
"I should be over it by now."
"It affects everyone differently. Besides, it was no picnic up there. You don't need to go into the details—I've heard what he does to others. But I'm here to help you through it if you need it."
"I can't let it get to me. I can't afford it."
"We can't afford too much collapse, but we'll be around to help you up."
Sahara nodded, her dark eyes intense with empathy. Elliot nodded, his indigo eyes dark with a solemn vow.
"Thank you," said Jason. "With the restorative, my injuries are almost better, so… I'm ready to get this show on the road."
"Looks like a lot of the elements are taking shape," said Serhii. "We've made contact with an agent in the harem. We have some possible ways out. We have potential access to the controls, perhaps weapons and drugs. We've just got to refine everything, get some solid leads."
"And Jason—with yours already off," said Sahara, "maybe you can access more things?"
"Maybe so. I can speak freely, too, as long as it's not within range of any of them."
"If we can get to Zar—get him to take us to his access route," said Serhii, "it might be as simple as that. not to mention cathartic."
"He did say… he wanted to take us both to his house."
"He's so dimwitted and one track minded he won't suspect a thing. Providing there are no fail-safes. It'd be nice to know that. If he'll be alone, for one thing."
"Getting to a computer could help with that," said Sahara.
"You know computers?"
"A bit. I used to fiddle around for fun, till I got in trouble."
"I knew you'd be a good asset." Serhii smiled.
"I will make a coded map," said Elliot. "Add what Alelu told me. What about—" He hesitated.
"What is it?" said Sahara.
"My—my baby."
"I don't know if our timeline can accommodate him," said Serhii. "Our plan is taking shape—optimistically, it should be set in motion in the next few days. And he has—what—a month left?"
"We could use Elena as our hostage…."
"Who knows when she'll be back. We can't count on that. When we get out— we'll tell the authorities as soon as possible. If it's done secretly—I agree that's probably best—she won't even have time to pack up and go to her backup safehouse."
"They might hurt the baby."
"That's the risk we have to take. She'll be a target. Hopefully she'll give up without a fight. It'll be her fault if her baby gets caught in the crossfire."
"My baby," said Elliot softly.
"I do wish we could do something," said Sahara, reaching out. Elliot took her hand. "He's an innocent party in all this."
"I wish I could just—take him away from her, but she's holding him hostage inside her…. I can't even touch him. I have to escape, but if I never see her again… I'll always wonder about him. He's already—here," he pressed his heart, "even though my only contact with him has been… through her." He looked away, shame in his eyes.
"Have you thought of a name yet?"
"There are a couple… it's just… hard to think about him. Now that he's so far away. I wish Elena would never return. But if she doesn't… I'll never get to hold him." His voice faded and he leaned his head in his hand, his face in shadow.
They discussed a few other things, and Jason told them about the idea of a wedding for Karim and Kara. They agreed to think of a way to have the wedding and then parted, since they didn't want to be together in one room for too long.
Elliot headed back to his room with Jason, since they were neighbors across the hall.
"I wish I had more to contribute," said Elliot, "but I can't help but advocate for my son."
"I want him safe, too. You do contribute, though."
"I'm still… so broken. When you were taken… it reminded me of—" They stepped into the Cathedral. "If it hadn't been for Sahara…. Alelu's been more independent, and I love that, but I didn't have anything keeping me going, and the escape was in limbo… Sahara made sure I didn't collapse. I… didn't want to show we were too close; it's not like that. But the guards might think it was. I couldn't endanger her. She's an amazing person."
"She is."
"More than she thinks. She has a lot of talents."
"So do you."
"They've faded…."
"You can get them back. Maybe we can practice together. Get our agent selves back."
"I want to pull my own weight. Right now, I'm a borderline liability. But since I'm in the escape commission, I'm a liability if I stay."
"You've just got to get your confidence back. We've got to remember who we are." He stopped at his door. Laid his hand gently on Elliot's arm. "You are an agent. It's in your heart, like it's in mine. We'll only be ourselves if we get that part of ourselves back." He realized this as he said it. I have to be an agent to truly be myself. Perhaps not to the level I was before. But when I escape—I'll have to be an agent of some kind. Less danger than before. But still true to who I am.
It's ironic I am determining to start this journey here, as a slave.
But you've got to start somewhere.
Back in his room, he found Ali's yellow silk shirt and the black pants folded in a neat pile on his bed. He slipped them on for pajamas.
And he felt, for the first time since being taken, more hope than despair.
He fell into comforting dreams, Connie reaching out for him—and he took her hand, and stepped out into the sunlight, the darkness fading as if it had never been.