Subject: Raeth Arteres
Date: March 9, 2185
Species: Neumarian
Status: Mental interrogation
Method: Experimental neuro-alterer
Chapter Two
The Queen’s voice grounds me in a nightmare with no way out. Until I realize it’s not a dream. The sour taste in my mouth brings back the image of the Princess injecting me. The scent of machine oil accosts my nose.
“She said nothing?” The Queen rants and I hear her pacing. “No one can withstand that form of torture without sharing intel, especially not some stringy-haired child.”
“No, my Queen.” The grey coat’s voice makes me cringe, but I try to hide my movement. “There are other forms of persuasion we could try.”
Tears well up in my eyes, but I pray they don’t escape. It’s better they don’t know I’m awake, or the techno-torture will start again.
My right leg is held down by a strap. No. It is weighted down by metal. Terror rises up inside me and I want to scream, NO!
I’m a Slag now.
“What of her family?” The Queen steps closer as if to examine my body. I hold my breath.
Beeps sound from a few paces away and I know the grey coat searches his handheld techno device. “She has a brother, Ryder Arteres.”
“No, you’re wrong,” Princess Semara blurts. “He was killed when we subdued the riot and arrested Raeth.”
Her voice provides comfort, but her words drop the weight of a scout ship onto my chest. I can’t breathe. I panic and my eyes open. I’m in my cell. The Queen’s back is to me, standing next to the grey coat, gripping a pistol holstered at her side. Princess Semara shoots a look of warning at me, and I shut my eyes before the grey coat catches me.
“What of her parents?”
A few more bleeps. “Both killed in the war.”
“Sometimes physical persuasion is not enough. These parasites become desensitized.” A cold, solid hand jabs at my stomach and I struggle not to flinch. “Does she know her brother was killed in the uprising?”
“No, Mother.”
“Good.”
My stomach twists and churns. Is my brother really dead? Tears escape and I hope they don’t look back.
“We’ll extract information another way. Order a neuro-alterer. Implant it with visions of her brother in trouble.”
“Yes, my Queen.” Shuffles indicate the grey coat is retreating from the Queen’s reach.
“Do not fail me this time.”
“No, my Queen.” The fear in his voice almost makes me feel for him.
The room grows quiet and I wait a moment, then open my eyes. I see their shadows in the hall. I push up on my elbows, trying to flee, but my leg won’t move. I suck in a quick breath between my clenching teeth and will myself to look down.
My eyes won’t focus. There is only a blur of gold and bronze. I reach down and touch solid metal. Silky, thick liquid covers my fingers. I bring my hand close to my face, but it’s not blood.
It’s oil.
Tears pour down my face and my hand starts to tap against my metal bed. The image slides into view and I see the heavy contraption where my leg was.
