The Belter's Story (BRIGAND) (7 page)

And so we became a slave.

We weren't like the Morgs, who sweated and died because they were cheap, but we toiled and suffered all the same. Kittar and Neeshta were with us. They were slaves as well — or perhaps taskmasters. The whip hand. The serf who stands above the peons, privileged but no less in thrall.

They studied and measured. They probed and they tested. Although, sometimes their immediate goals were obscure, they never concealed their intent. Under their scrutiny, we came to understand the energy of living things in ways we could never have imagined, an unexpected benefit of our servitude. We saw them so clearly. Each creature had a specific collage of colors and emotions that we came to recognize.

And we helped them build things — a device that could block energy sources within a few meters. They called it a 'neutralizer'. From that, they engineered a scanner that could detect beings like us, anyone with the capacity to manipulate the energy of life. We were a means to an end. When they understood what had happened to us, what made us, what we could do, they would dispose of what was no longer required and move on.

We needed a plan. It helped that the Laena knew where we were — one of the orbiting research habs above Europa. There were transports, mostly to the Belt. If we could find a way onto one of those ships, we might have a chance to disappear.

How we might accomplish such a feat, we had no idea. We were confined — a small room with bed and sink and toilet. They were careful about getting too close to us, especially Neeshta. That was understandable. And sometimes we did wonder what it would feel like to kill again, what it would feel like to grab hold of the blackness that enveloped her, breathe it in and suck it from her completely. But we would never do to her what we had done to Laena. The thought of Neeshta invading our union was so abhorrent that we would have gladly died before taking her life that way.

To gain time, we kept our value high. We cooperated. We complied. We waited. Eventually, we earned a few privileges. A smattering of educational sensos, limited network access. They began to bring us small creatures, mostly diggers gleaned for experimentation, to sustain us, after they realized we would age quickly without the life giving energy they afforded.

These people weren't deliberately cruel. If anything, they were frightened. We saw it in their glows — each of them infected with the same dull midnight hue. Something potent and terrible loomed over them and drove them. They would do anything to avoid the wrath of that power; even give up their own children. We wondered what it was that could intimidate these people so.

Then one shift, without any fanfare, she arrived.

She glided through the lab with Neeshta in tow, a gaggle of minions strung behind them, all in black. Her sable robe clung like adoration to the flawless contours of her body, its neckline plunging from shoulders to navel. Her elegance was a tangible force that pushed those around her into an instinctively servile hunch. They never dared look at her.

Her skin was ethereally white and her glow was like nothing we’d ever seen. It reached darkly from her in all directions, a shadowy nimbus that radiated command and fear. As she approached us with long, confident strides, we could sense… nothing. All the familiar odors of skin and clothing were there, but we couldn't read anything else from her. We wondered that such perfect control was even possible.

The woman in black stood close, apparently unconcerned about whatever danger we might represent.

"So. This is the one?" Her cool blue eyes held ours without the slightest effort.

Neeshta stepped up beside her, a half pace back, close enough to be heard, yet respectfully out of view. "Yes, Reverend Mother. This is Cromley."

The woman in black smiled, perfect lips drawn back over perfect teeth, blue eyes sparkling with invitation. Our involuntary response was over which we had no control. We smiled too. She was so beautiful that, for a moment, our only urge was to please her.

"You’ve been a great help, Cromley. For that, we thank you." She tilted her head slightly and her smile fell away, leaving a tiny pang of loss behind.

She terrified us. Not because of what she might do to us, but because of what she could do if she understood us.

"We're nearly done here. Your extraordinary gift will be a little less extraordinary soon. And then — the things we’ll do." Her smile returned, but without its former warmth. The chill of it pierced us.

"Done? You mean we can go home?" We knew better of course, but we couldn't resist the perverse impulse to ask.

"We?" Her blue gaze pierced our own.

We realized our blunder too late, but we tried to cover. "We… Us." We gestured at the others in the lab around us.

She drew her gaze across the others around me. Belters. Awkward, pallid, with deep-set eyes. Then she stared at us as if she were inspecting a lab specimen.

"Don't be stupid. We know everything. We know what you do. We know how it protects you from the ravages of time. We know that you can draw the lives of others into yours."

She continued to stare, the blue of her eyes cold and unblinking. Then she traced her index finger, with the red pointed nail, down our cheek. "How many are you I wonder?"

We swallowed our resolve and drew a long breath to bolster our courage. "If you let these people live, if you leave them in peace I… we will do what you ask."

Then she laughed. "I wouldn't kill them —" and she motioned to Neeshta and the others who loitered nearby, darting nervous glances at one another, "to persuade you. I’d kill them because they’re useless."

She stopped and looked into my eyes. "But yes. I will allow them their pathetic existence. And you will indeed do what I ask."

She turned and her silky black robe rolled on the air at her calves, following obediently behind her.

Days passed. We had no idea how long it would be before the woman in black returned, but we knew we were out of time. Caution no longer mattered. We were doomed anyway. With nothing to lose, we took risks.

With the Su's help, hacking the main network was simple enough. Inserting our biometrics into the all-access security group was much more challenging, but the Laena had worked here. She knew enough of the right security codes to get us in. When the time came, we could hide aboard one of the little shuttles that were constantly making runs between Mundus Habitat and Europa. Although they usually operated on auto, shuttles were all equipped with life support and manual controls. If we could find the right opening, we'd be able to slip through it.

Then, during downtime, Neeshta came to our cell. She was alone and didn't bother with the usual protocols. No restraints. No careful avoidance of our touch.

Tired as she looked, she still reminded us of Laena and we felt a twinge of the old loss. The Laena's comforting presence resonated inside us,
Sometimes we miss the way things were too. But there's nowhere else we would rather be.

"Cromley. Or should I say Cromley and Jase and — " She paused and her eyes glistened in the dim light. "Laena."

"You have no reason to trust me. But I needed you to know —"

"That you led us to kill your daughter? For what? Science? Money?" We weren't in a mood to be kind, especially the Laena.

"Survival. She would destroy us all. Everyone. To get what you have." She looked down at her hands and our gaze followed hers. They were shaking. We could see the depth of her fear and her sorrow, in shades of deep navy, coursing the length of her body.

"Who is she?"

"She is the highest of the Mandate of St. Nicolo. The order of the Wraiths. Her grasp of energy is incomparable."

"And now you've made her like us. Do you have any idea what that means?"

Neeshta flinched as if we had struck her. "She's already begun the treatments we devised. Her strength is growing, but she doesn't have your experience. She doesn't yet know what you've learned. But she will get it from you. You have to know that she'll find what she seeks. You… we will not survive the process."

We knew then what we had to do. What we had become, no one like her could ever be allowed to attain. We never sought this power but the damage we had done was almost beyond comprehension. Given what we knew, this woman, this creature would become something almost inconceivable. We would stop her. Or she would end us all.

Neeshta stared hard into our eyes. "She's coming for you. At the start of next shift. She means to learn how you took my child." A single tear welled from the corner of her eye and tracked in silence down to her lips.

"I don't know if you can fight her, but if you can, we'll try to help you. We owe you that much." Neeshta rose and hurried out of our cell..

We were seated in a small room, our bodies cradled in impossibly expensive float chairs. No comfort, it seemed, was denied the Mother Most Revered. We were positioned close to each other, close enough that contact was a simple matter of reaching out a hand. The lighting was subdued, almost dim, but we could see her glow well enough and even her superb control couldn't completely mask her anticipation.

One of her attendants placed a vaper in our grasp and we took a long pull.  The familiar bite at the back of our throat, the surge in the intensity of her colors, we knew them well and, despite our fear, we luxuriated in the familiar rush of excitement that followed.

The Reverend Mother lifted her own vaper, drew and then released a lavender cloud. We noticed that her artfully sculpted lips were pale and unadorned. No makeup. She wanted nothing that might hinder contact.

She smiled that wondrous smile, which we reflexively returned before we could even begin to consider an alternative. "Now show us."

The prospect of assimilating Neeshta had been repulsive enough, but to consider such intimacy with this woman was, in thought alone, almost enough to destroy us. And so we had devised a plan, a chance to catch her off guard. Success might buy us freedom, or at least a fighting chance. If we failed…

She placed her hand on ours. The touch was warm and dry and smooth. Like every centimeter of her, her fingers were without flaw and we could feel her sensing her own unblemished skin on ours. Contact.

"Ohh. I see." Her body tensed against the wave of unprecedented sensation that washed through us. She was enthralled. We felt her rapture. For a moment, she was overwhelmed by the sheer novelty of it. For a moment, her attention flagged.

And we struck.

The Reverend Mother's instructions had been simple enough. Show her how to rob the energy of another. Use our connection to help her understand how it feels, how it's done. What she never anticipated, was the fact that we could do more than pull at her glow. We could push.

With all the force we could muster, we threw our energy into her — blazing, battering, diving through our sense of her, following her own perception into her most delicate recesses. There was no finesse, no art, no deception.

Connected, she was instantly aware of everything we did. Our only hope was to move so fast and hit so hard that she would have no time to react.

We could feel her reeling, falling away from our assault. But then we felt her comprehension. She knew what we’d done.
You are so clever, little Belter. But I think you underestimate me.

She could never match us in precision and control, but she had already grasped the concept. The Reverend Mother moved to kneel before us, placing her hands on either side of our face. And then she began to pull.

We were out of time. Our gambit had failed, but if we could manage one final attack, perhaps we could overwhelm her defenses and jar her nervous system into a temporary shutdown. With the desperation of the condemned, we bore down on her. Giving, quite literally, everything we had.

We choked her with our glow. We shoved our energy into her until she quaked and sweated. We could feel her toppling. And then, with a sensation that, more than anything, felt like being disemboweled, something tore loose.

As the Reverend Mother fell away into blackness, the Cromley saw what we had done and wept his desperation.

Jase.

Laena.

Gone.

We were destroyed.

The thing that remained after the battle with the Reverend Mother was empty and twisted. It had aged decades in seconds. The energy it had poured into the Mother nearly bled it dry, leaving a husk that was old beyond its years. It moved and spoke. It ate and shat. Thoughts still formed in its ruined brain. But it cared for nothing. It was nothing.

Its one feeble act of defiance, its single pitiful gesture against the devastation that now defined it was its name. It was no longer Cromley. Nor was it Jase or Laena. They were gone, but it would honor them in its pathetic way. It would name itself from bits of them, tokens that would keep them in its memory forever. From now on, It would be Cruase.

We never heard what happened to the Mother. She was unconscious, but alive, when we made our escape. With Neeshta's help, it was a simple thing to slip onto a transport bound for Mundus.

Surviving was so much harder. The Belt has always been an unforgiving place. There's no such thing as unemployment there. The equation is brutal and simple. You find work or you die.

For a while, we got by on odd jobs. We were always good with bots and Mundus has millions of them. It was a meager life at best. We didn't care. Death would have been a welcome release, but we were too cowardly to seek it. Instead, we trudged out our gray and featureless existence — our penance. We sold ourselves for food and water and oxygen.

The Trand bought our contract from a recycler. He ran a bot shop not far from the port and business was good enough that he needed a tech. The recycler owed him money. The Trand took us in trade.

He was a big man with short dark hair and a hard set to his mouth. He'd been a marine once, but he'd gotten himself shot up so badly that it was cheaper to retire him. His left eye was artificial and so were parts of his legs. He never tried to disguise his prosthetics. In fact, he seemed to enjoy how they made him look.