So here's the second chapter, but it's somewhat rough. Here are links to the prologue and first chapter. (post627257.html#p627257)(post648654.html#p648654)
As her hands worked jadedly at the plastic, Kari sadly contemplating her meager supply of foodcubes. She opened the door to her microwave and was about to put the ceramic plate in when she saw it.
The plate slipped from her hands and hit the floor, breaking into a million fragments with a crash. The wasted food cube landed in a grey-brown glob on the floor, but Kari’s eyes never left her bed.
It was messy, as she had left it that morning, and the cotton sheets were still as stained as ever, but the bed’s appearance was not what had surprised her.
In her bed lay a corpse.
Kari gawked at the stiff, completely immobilized by fear. Her measly, pitiful life flashed before her eyes, and the few plans she’d been making on the walk home suddenly disappeared: goodbye tight budget, goodbye foodcubes, goodbye freedom; she was looking at thirty years in the slammer –without probation.
Before her mind could register the fullness of the situation a low chuckle came from behind Kari. Her mind raced back to the dark-eyed man in the hallway, but when she turned, her eyes locked with the last person she would have ever dreamed of seeing.
27.
“Having some trouble, I see,” 27, or Lorna, said; her voice was even and calm. “Not a pretty sight, for sure,” and then the older woman clucked her tongue like a disapproving mother.
Realization dawned on Kira like a thunderclap, and she thrust an accusing finger at Lorna.
“You did this!” Kari gasped, finding her breath again. “You’re framing a murder on me, aren’t you?”
The technician pulled one of Kari’s plastic chairs away from the kitchen table and sat down, removing a white pack of cigarettes from her breast pocket. Kari watched, flabbergasted, as 27 lit up and took a few puffs.
“Why’d you come here?” Kari asked, slowly backing up. “And where’d he–” Kari nodded toward her bed and shuddered all over. “–come from?”
27 took another pull at her cigarette and then stuffed it into an ashtray.
“Pull up a chair,” 27 said, nodding towards the table. “Let me explain my deal to you.”
Kira opened her mouth for a sharp retort, but something stopper her. For some reason, the way Lorna spoke, coupled with Kira’s lack of real options, seemed to draw all the fight out of the girl. There was a pregnant pause for a few seconds, and then Lorna broke it.
“My name is Lorna Nadir,” 27 introduced herself. “Advanced Technician 27 of Handybots™ Co. Ltd.”
“I know who you are,” Kari returned flatly.
“But only by reputation,” Lorna reminded her. “In truth, Lorna is not my name at all.”
“Obviously,” Kari said, even though it hadn’t been too obvious a few hours ago. “You’re a murderer, you sick freak. You pin the blame on an innocent nobody, jump planets and then take on a new face.”
Lorna gave her a curious, almost amused look, and then continued.
“I am a murderer,” she admitted calmly –too calmly. “But only by necessity; not choice. That man would still be alive right now, pissing off his superiors, if I was allowed to be sentimental about life.”
“You’re a hitman?” Kari said, freezing to her chair as if a nitrogen Faulst wind had blown past her. And then, in a mere squeak of a voice; “Are you going to kill me?”
Lorna snorted, as if entertained by the absurd idea, and shook her head, letting the tawny ponytail flop back and forth. The technician stood, placed a hand on Kari’s shoulder. Kari stiffened as Lorna leaned until their faces were inches apart.
“If I wanted to,” Lorna said, drawing her words long and slow. “You would’ve been in the same bed as him hours ago.”
She accented her words with a jerk of her thumb and then walked nonchalantly away, as if she had never threatened the life of a fellow human being before. Kari took deep breaths while her visitor’s back was turned, regaining her composure and breath; her white face slowly returned to its normal tan, and her heartbeat, a veritable jackhammer a few seconds ago, toned itself down.
Within those few minutes Lorna had already cooked herself a foodcube (kicking aside the broken plate and smashed foodcube) and returned to the table, chewing on a mouthful of the tasteless fiber.
“This stuff tastes like crap,” Lorna said, scooping up some greasy liquid with her spoon. “How do you stand it?”
“I don’t have anything else,” Kari replied, dropping her gaze as Lorna searched to meet it. “I got fired today…over that command-mainframe you fixed.”
“That was you?” Lorna asked, her eyebrows soaring. “I didn’t know he fired you for it.”
“Well, he did,” Kari replied sadly. “And now I’m jobless with–” she stopped her sob story suddenly, why was she telling it to Lorna? She quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, what do you want with me? And what do I do with the…thing?”
“Nothing,” Lorna replied. “I could leave and have you report it to the police yourself. They wouldn’t believe you if you ratted on me; you just got fired, and it’d be just another disgruntled employee trying to make trouble for the company.”
Kari nodded dumbly and slumped even deeper into her chair.
“On the other hand,” Lorna continued. “If you trust me, then I’ll get rid of the body, cover this whole thing up and pay you enough to secure your retirement.”
Kari started at the offer, she was expecting the slave-for-life deal, or something worse, but this was completely off the board: there had to be a catch.
“Any strings attached?” she asked cautiously. “I’d rather take my chances with the law than with a cold-blooded murderer.”
Lorna smiled, and then held up a single manicured pinkie.
“Only one,” she said. “And a small one at that.”
It seemed bizarre for a technician who got grease-stains on her uniform everyday to even care about her nails; Kari got carried away just looking at the perfect finger, noticing that all nine of the others were the same. She suddenly returned to reality with a start, realizing that Lorna was holding out her hand expectantly, but Kari held her hands in fists tightly behind her.
“What’s the one condition?” she asked, forgetting the finger.
“You do everything I tell you and travel with me on a little trip,” Lorna explained. “It shouldn’t take more than few days, and the pay would be higher per day than even my current job. Not even Wasp-races could match this deal, kiddo.”
Kari sucked in her breath wondering how Lorna had known about Kari’s racing days. Every sensible fiber in Kari’s body resisted accepting the deal, screaming at her to fall back and call the police, but the voices were silenced when she remembered that she had almost nothing to lose. Her hand inched into Lorna’s and clasped it stiffly.
“I’m with you,” Kari agreed, her voice somewhat strained. “What do you want me to do?”
“Excellent,” Lorna said, looking down to where their hands clasped. “I knew you’d see things my way.”
She let go of Kari’s hand and stood, brushing off her uniform. Her eyes traveled past Kari to the bed as a smile spread across her lips.
“First things first,” she said. “Let me teach you how to get rid of a body.”
An hour, two bone saws and a twelve-pound bag of lime later, Kari stood in her bathroom, staring at her mirror. A ghoulish creature stared back at her, eyes sunk into their sockets and ringed with purple lines. Her hands bore dried blood-stains (his blood) and dirt, her clothes ripped from the barbed wire she’d crawled under (Lorna’s preferred site for burying the body had been under lock and key by the UGA) and her hair a total, disastrous mess.
A bath took nearly an hour –the water murky with Kari’s filth when she finished– and the girl stepped from the bathroom fresh and clean, dressed in a grey tee and khaki shorts; her pajamas ever since she’d gotten rid of a disgusting flannel deal. She headed for her sink to brush her teeth, catching sight of Lorna two rooms away, through the open bathroom door.
The mysterious Advanced Technician was in Kari’s bedroom, wiping blood from the metal frame of the bed. Almost all signs and hints of a dead body’s previous occupancy in the room were gone. Lorna had said something about fingerprints, but Kari was too tired to listen.
She’d already guessed what Lorna wanted her for: a henchman (or henchgirl) to do her dirty work, and one that was unimportant enough to disappear without making a fuss. A stab in the dark, a single bullet, or even a poisoned drink would suffice; something simple and quiet. The young girl had already resigned herself to her miserable fate, but in her heart she resolved to watch out for any foul play on Lorna’s part. And if worse came to worse, Kari would go down swinging.
Kari rinsed, spat and then walked into the bedroom, hoping Lorna would choose the overstuffed couch in the kitchen over Kari’s metal-frame, cotton-stuffing mattress bed.
No such luck. In fact, not even any sleep.
“Pack up as many clothes as will fit in this,” Lorna said, holding out a backpack to Kari. “We’re leaving at midnight.”
Kari took the bag with a glare at Lorna, but did as she asked. The backpack was a little-used highschool purchase that Kari had stashed in the back of her closet and forgotten about. Memories burst from the faded orange-and-black fabric as Kari’s fingers brushed the material. At max-load, it had carried seven text books, twice as many notebooks, assorted pencils and pens, gym clothes, jars of science projects and even a tiny diary slipped into a side pocket. As of now, it held junk accumulated over years of ‘putting-away’ mementos and keepsakes. Kari upturned the bag on the kitchen floor and was going to leave the stuff on there, when, as bizarre as it seemed in a situation like this, a faded picture caught her eye.
It was of her and a girlfriend at a lake that supposedly held healing powers; a superstition that probably arose from the mineral hot springs that flowed into the lake. Behind Kari and her friend was lush, purple vegetation and the green of the lake water, but what had caught Kari’s eye was the friend beside her.
Short blonde hair, brown eyes and freckled skin; a normal girl to any other observer, but not to Kari. She saw Lorna in the girl, as if a deep and inner part of the soul had been frozen into a photo to reappear in the present Lorna, as if –somehow– the girl in the picture and Lorna were related, but not the same person: a feeling that Kari couldn’t explain.
The resemblance was so uncanny that Kari stared at the picture, open-mouthed, until Lorna came into the room, a full backpack slung over her shoulders.
“It’s ten till twelve, princess,” she said, bringing the tip of her shoe in contact with the picture and knocking it backwards into the pile. “Hurry up or you’ll have to travel in those.” She nodded downwards to Kari’s pajamas and half-smiled. “Hurry.” She repeated.
Kari closed her mouth, and then opened it again, meaning to snap at Lorna, but then clamped it shut once more. She strode from the room, angry, but curious at the same time. Quickly she dumped her clothes drawers into the backpack’s main pocket; stuffing it to bursting, and then moving on to the side pockets.
Her mind flew with thoughts as she scrambled to fill the backpack: Who was the friend she’d taken the picture with that day? Why– How did Lorna connect with it? What exactly did she mean about take a trip?
At last, Kari lifted her backpack with great difficulty and heaved it onto her shoulders. Inside were items she’d never used, and probably wouldn’t ever, but she didn’t think she’d ever make it back to her apartment, and Kari wasn’t going to take chances. She tromped to the door heavily, staggering each time she lost her balance, but managing to stay upright by reaching out to the hall walls for support. She was convinced Lorna would make her dump half the junk, and would have gladly done so, but she’d stubbornly made up her mind to make things as hard as possible for her new master at every opportunity.
Lorna stood in the doorway, looking out at the hall with suspicious eyes. She turned as Kari came along the hall, stumbling ridiculously with her pack. One look and Kari realized she was in for trouble.
“You won’t be needing these,” Lorna said, unzipping the side pockets and dumping everything out. “And I told you to bring only clothes,” she added, taking all non-clothing materials out of the main pocket. “You’ll need to run when you’re with me.”
“Why?” Kari asked defiantly, not exactly saddened by the weight loss, but still wanting to make a fuss of it. “Your backpack looks twice as heavy as mine was, and I–”
Lorna suddenly slipped out of her backpack like a snake and put a cold fist around Kari neck, pulling the younger girl into the air with a single arm. Kari’s eyes bulged with fear, loss of oxygen and amazement at Lorna’s arm strength. She struggled against the grip, but her backpack pulled on her shoulders, restricting her every move. She choked for breath whilst trying to lose the dead weight, but her feeble attempts were useless against Lorna’s grip.
“You’ll find it easier to do things my way,” Lorna hissed, inches away from Kari’s eyes. Once more she noticed the parallel –even under the intense pressure of the situation– between Lorna and the picture-girl. “Don’t question me again, girl.”
The last word was spat in Kari’s face, and then she was dropped to the ground roughly. The backpack broke her fall somewhat, leaving Kari half-sitting, gasping and wheezing to get her breath back.
“Get up,” Lorna ordered, as if nothing had happened. “It’s midnight now.”
“This is a bad idea!” Kari hissed at the small of Lorna’s back, the only thing she could see in the murky gloom. “If you wanted to leave the planet, the best way would have been–”
“Shut up!” Lorna whispered back, kicking backwards at Kari. “Keep moving!”
Lorna was surprisingly agile in a tight space –such as the three-foot diameter sewer pipe they were crawling through– and the kick landed on Kari’s chest, splashing dirty sewer water across the girl’s T-shirt.
She could barely see the stain in the little light that came through a series of open manholes they left several hundred feet behind, but anger welled up in her chest anyways. Anger for her soiled clothes, anger and frustration at Lorna for dragging her down to a mole’s hell, anger at her foreman for firing her; pretty much anger for everybody on Violet that had anything to do with her current condition.
For a few hours now they’d been among Lowe’s underground lair of pipe systems, and the course had involved so much backtracking, jack-knifing and changes in direction that Kari had long ago given up hope for getting out.
Lorna never gave explanation for her actions and constant changes of order, but Kari had a feeling it was so she –Lorna’s airhead minion– could never find her way back. Already she was weighing three consecutive life sentences against the possibility of death at Lorna’s cruel hands.
She was considering turning back and escaping Lorna’s clutches, and wondering if she’d be killed if caught (the choking episode was still fresh on her mind), when a flash of light ahead blinded her. In the strobe of it Kari could see Lorna’s profile outlined with crystal clarity against the terrible darkness.
“Who’s there?” an unfamiliar voice challenged.
“27,” Lorna said, giving the number a tone of regality Kari had never even heard bestowed to a real name. “Let us pass, Jard.”
The light switched from Lorna to Kari and the girl squinted, looking away from the piercing glare of the light.
“She’ll do,” Jard confirmed, after the light had been trained on her for a few minutes. “You made no mistake in choosing her, 27.”
“I never make mistakes,” 27 snapped, plunging forward through the sewer-filth. “Put the light down, you’ll give us away.”
There was a snort of indignation and then,
“We’re forty floors under the deepest underground subway, 27,” Jard explained, still keeping the light on Lorna. “The only ones around a–”
There was a silent tinkle of glass as Lorna put her fist through the lens of the flashlight, and then the pipe fell into darkness. Kari half-grinned, wondering if the newcomer knew of Lorna’s pet peeve (disobedient losers) and if he’d get the same treatment she’d undergone (one-arm choking).
Lorna trekked on, keeping Jard ahead of her and ordering Kari to hold onto the straps that trailed from Lorna’s backpack. They’d long ago left the open manholes, and the loss of Jard’s flashlight made the darkness all the more…dark. It was all Kari could do to keep a tight grip on Lorna’s backpack straps while stumbling over unrecognizable objects in the dark.
“Where’re we going?” Kari whispered, after an inconceivable period of time. “This tunnel stinks: seriously.”
“You didn’t tell her?” Jard said with a chuckle. “That’s just like you, 27, keeping your subjects in the dark until they meet the Machine. You probably love their screams when they finally realize it, don’t you?”
To Kari’s terror, Lorna’s reply sounded like she was looking forward to the end of the tunnel, like a fanatic, lunatic murderer who enjoyed her job immensely.
“Of course,” she said. “But don’t ruin the surprise for her.”
Kari stopped in her tracks, cold sweat breaking out instantly over her forehead. Lorna kept on walking, and Kari was suddenly pulled forward. She hit the floor of the tunnel and her head went under water, but her wrists pulled painfully on a pair of metal cuffs, wrapped around her wrists without her knowing it.
She came up coughing and spluttering, but her main concern was for her life now.
“[/i]What did you say?” Kari nearly screamed, pulling back on the handcuffs again. “Where are we going?”
“To your grave, [i]dear,” Jard replied in a sickly-sweet voice. “We’re here to see you off.”
Lorna ignored both Kari’s futile tugging and Jard’s comments, speedily striding on as if walked through a filth-lined tunnel for fun. But Kari pulled again on the cuffs, realizing that they were probably made of siolfor, or even mekkin: she could only hope for the key.
Resignedly, Kari walked on until their path took a sharp corner. Dim light flickered from the end of the tunnel, but, even when squinting, Kari couldn’t make out anything against the light other than Lorna’s profile.
“Welcome home, 27,” Jard said, stepping into the light and sweeping a hand into the next tunnel.
Kari got a good look at his face and frowned when she recognized him as Jard Asphayt, a system-wide renowned wrestler. He wore a dark robe like a Machil merchant, but even under the loose folds Kari could see muscles swell and ripple like some sort of pure-strength beast. Her breath was taken away just looking at his fists, and imagining what tiny percentage of his power would be needed to finish her off quickly.
Jard grinned and winked back at her stare, and then walked on into the light. Lorna followed, throwing her backpack –and Kari– into a corner. Kari lay where she’d fallen, dazedly wondering how Lorna had packed muscle power into her slim arms without swelling them to the size of Jard’s.
For a few minutes the light was too bright to see anything, but as she blinked away the foggy areas of her sight, things slowly became clearer.
Jard and Lorna stood near a large metallic circle in the wall, fiddling with some sort of control panel. Kari guessed vaguely that it was a safe door, but her eyes were distracted by the floor, walls and ceiling of the room. Every surface was lit up as bright as day, but there were no lights anywhere that she could see, it was as if the material was giving off a light of its own. The blackness of the sewer filth they had brought in lasted for a few seconds on the floor, and then seemed to be sucked up like water into a sponge, leaving no traces of the filth behind.
Kari had only seconds to marvel at the phenomenon, as Lorna apparently finished what she needed to do and retrieved her backpack. Kari was pulled roughly to her feet and winced as the metal cuffs cut into her wrists. A warm spurt of blood speckled the pristine floor red and some of it trickled down the pit of her elbow and into her armpit. Kari stared down at the red below her feet in shock, and then blinked as it disappeared into the floor; just like the filthy black stuff.
Jard grinned at her surprise, “Nanotouch,” he said, as if the one word would explain the disappearance of her blood. “The best she could get.”
Kari took ‘she’ to mean Lorna, but even her job as an Advanced Technician –if Jard’s presented idea of ‘Nanotouch’ could be believed– probably couldn’t pay for something so hi-tech. Something bigger than Lorna seemed to be behind the whole operation.
Kari stumbled into a room similar to the first in that it was purely white, but different for the white furniture, probably Nanotouch as well. Tables, chairs, bookcases and even a grand piano were arranged in an artistic way so that anyone entering the room had to walk around almost every piece of furniture, forcing them to admire it.
Lorna, however, walked as fast as possible to the other side of the room, all but ignoring the furniture and kicking it out of the way. Kari had no choice but to follow at the same speed, but her eyes wandered over the books (quite a few with titles she’d never heard of) and the furniture: Lorna had to have someone else behind all this; someone rich.
Her mind began fantasizing about a mafia boss, putting Lorna into a hitman position, or maybe a retrieval dog: she’d certainly done that job well with Kari. But who was Jard in all this? Even Kari, who had never seen a single wrestling match in her life, knew him from the billboards, city-wide talk and TV commercials. He certainly wasn’t the one to operate on a quiet secret.
“The machine’s all ready,” Jard said, pointing to the door Lorna already had her hand on. “Just get into position and tell me when.”
Lorna opened the door and swung it back to reveal a gleaming white room with a giant metallic machine in the center. What looked like metal seats projected from the machine, hooks hung from the ceiling and numerous screens surrounded a control platform to the left.
“Get in,” Lorna ordered, unlocking Kari’s wrists and pushing her towards the machine.
Kari looked back to the door in time to see it close, possibly locked tight to ensure the termination of her escape ideas. She bit her lip and looked at the machine again; it didn’t look that bad, but it wasn’t a daisy garden either.
“I told you to get in!” Lorna shouted, forcing her into one of the chairs.
Lorna strapped Kari’s legs to the machine and tapped a button to the side of Kari’s head. The hooks lowered and Lorna snapped them around Kari’s wrists. A strap suddenly shot out of the chair back and pulled tight around Kari’s waist.
“We’re ready to start the transfer,” Jard announced. “Get in the chair, 27.”
Lorna climbed into the chair across from Kari and set about strapping herself in.
“What are you doing?” Kari asked, her voice pleading for an explanation, for mercy. “I don’t want to die!”
Jard ignored her and Lorna might as well have been deaf. Kari pulled against the hooks, rattling the chains to which they were attached.
“Let me out of this thing!” Kari screamed, fearing needles, or some gruesome element of an experiment. “Please!”
“You haven’t even started yet,” Jard said, as if it was extremely funny. “Wait until the real pain begins.”
Kari screamed, pulled against the straps and–
Shu-womp!
An electrical current passed from the chair and into Kari’s body, tingling her spine as if someone had taken an electric feather to it. Her body fell limp, leaving only her eyes full movement. Her head lolled to one side, and in her tilted sight she saw Lorna grasping the hooks firmly. Jard was tapping buttons on the control panel. Everything seemed to be coming up to a head now: Kari would be dissected, or killed, or even worse–
Kari gasped, even though she’d lost use of her tongue and lungs to the electrical shock. It wasn’t pain, but a feeling of an alien outsider sliding into her head, as if someone was jamming something into her brains that shouldn’t have been there. The feeling was so bizarre and repulsive that Kari nearly threw up. As it was, with her trying to fight it with every drop of strength she had, her bladder turned flip-flops. She felt warmth spread through the material of her jeans, but it hardly mattered now; something was entering her.
And then it was over.
There was no relief, there was no pain; it was as if it had never happened.
Gender:
Points: 13307
Reviews: 350