Orphaned Warrior (Dragon Spawn Chronicles Book 5), page 16
“Yes, but I’m afraid your suffering isn’t.”
Jori wanted to ask why not but didn’t have the coherency to put more words together.
“He wants to test your healing ability next,” Doctor Stenson said. “I’m so sorry. This was so unneces—” He pulled back and sobbed.
Jori had no strength to cry with him. Nor the desire. It wasn’t as bad as the doctor thought. His father often extended his punishments by denying him treatment. He’d endure this. Most likely, he’d sleep through most of it.
Doctor Stenson reined in his emotions. Tears still fell, but he was able to remove Jori’s wrist and ankle straps. “I’ll put you in a nice, quiet recovery room and get you as comfortable as possible. He says you can keep hydrated this time, but he won’t let you have an IV, so you’ll have to wake up once in a while to drink and eat. I strongly suggest both.”
Jori tried to nod but his body wouldn’t obey. The doctor picked him up and carried him. Jori took the time to look inward and assess his injuries. They weren’t as bad as expected. He’d heal in no time. The real question was would the speed of his recovery satisfy Vance or piss him off? And what did these tests add up to?
He had no opportunity to contemplate further as blackness closed in. He was still conscious enough to feel the softness of the bed as Stephen laid him down. The lightness of the downy pillow embraced his head. A warm blanket covered him. The doctor tucked it under his chin with the gentleness of a mother cat caring for her young.
“Zaina,” Jori managed.
“I’ll check in on her from time to time,” Doctor Stenson replied.
“Don’t tell…” He forced out the words. “Don’t tell her what he did,” he whispered.
“I won’t. Now get some rest.”
The lights in the room dimmed and he meditated himself into a sweet oblivion.
27 – Highest to Lowest
The bitterness on Major Abelard Blakesley’s tongue made him want to spit. He opened and closed his fists as he marched down the hall. He should’ve known Phoebe wouldn’t satisfy him. All he could think about was Zaina—a woman with both a body and a soul. If only she were willing.
She’d called him on the comm earlier, saying they needed to talk. She wouldn’t say what about, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out it wasn’t because she pined for him. It was that damned imp she missed. Thanks to Vance and his sick games, Jori had been kept away from her for too many days.
As he neared her quarters, the depth of her depression irritated him further. Between Vance’s obsession and her weepiness, his nerves were a jumble of violent energy.
He rang her comm. Instead of telling him to come in, the door swished open. She met him with her hands planted on her hips. The furrow in her brow would’ve been adorable had it not been for the anger she spewed.
“Where. Is. Jori?”
Blakesley clenched his jaw and feigned a nonchalant attitude. “He’s alright. Vance is just running a series of tests.”
Her temper quickened. “More tests? Why? And why does it have to take days?”
“It doesn’t, but they’re getting along so well…” He could’ve kicked himself for saying that. Once again, his desire to drive her away from the boy and to himself caused him to speak without thinking.
Her eyes popped. “Getting along how?”
Blakesley inhaled slowly, using the moment to rethink his intent. He wanted Jori gone, but he also yearned for Zaina. The boy wouldn’t escape without her… Or would he? He imagined Jori leaving by himself and Zaina being so upset that she threw herself into his arms. Pure fantasy garbage, of course, but still appealing.
Before he produced the right words, she jabbed her finger at his face. “I want him away from that man. He’s my charge!” She pointed at herself. “No one should take care of him but me.”
His chest burned. Why couldn’t she just forget about that little imp? “I’m so sorry, dear—”
“Don’t you dear me.” Her fists returned to her hips. “You like me and I like you, but so long as you’re the captor and we’re the captives, I want nothing to do with you.”
“It’s not me!” he said, his pleading tone also conveying exasperation. “I can’t stop Vance. No one can.”
She darkened. “Do you get what that means? Because he is so dangerous is all the more reason to get that child away from him.”
“I want to—”
“Then do it. Until then, goodbye!” She smacked the panel by her door. The last thing he saw were her blazing eyes.
He stood there fuming, fists clenched and air puffing out his nose. At first, he aimed his fury at her. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized all the blame led to just one person. Vance must be stopped.
With that madman out of the picture, Zaina wouldn’t have any complaints about the boy’s treatment. He dared not move against the man himself, though. That was suicide. So long as Jori was still here, Blakesley was dispensable. So only two options lay before him. Inspire Jori to end him or get MEGA-Man to intervene. He’d love it if the boy bested that psychopath, but Zaina would be inconsolable if he were killed. Not to mention the difficulty of maneuvering Jori with no one suspecting Blakesley’s own involvement. Contacting MEGA-Man was easy enough, but if he got caught, Vance would inflict a brutal punishment. Obviously, this course of action was riskier. So what was it to be? The option with little chance of success or the one with more risk? Perhaps he’d work both angles—carefully, of course.
With his mind made up, he left her doorstep and headed to his office. Once there, he plopped down before his console and activated the bio-authenticator. His heart thumped as the screen flickered on. Surely Vance hadn’t foreseen what he was about to do. If he had, he’d be here right now wearing a twisted smile.
The discomfort in his gut increased but he pressed on and entered the contact information. It didn’t take long. He already had the words planned but hesitated. If Vance found out he went over his head… To hell with him.
To disguise the purpose of the communication, Blakesley treated it like a normal report. Amid the numerous updates, he included one line—“Vance is testing the young prince’s ability to endure pain”—and hoped MEGA-Man would deduce the how of it.
It wasn’t the first time Vance had operated outside of his purview. Once, MEGA-Man had ordered a squad of the more robotic crew members to intervene. At first, Vance resisted. He’d disabled a half-dozen cyborgs before someone finally injected him, knocking him out.
Blakesley had pulled him partway out of his medically induced coma several times over the course of the week to give him updates. He’d played it off like he was just doing his duty, but the truth was he wanted to gloat over the man’s helpless position. Too bad he hadn’t considered killing him at the time.
If he was lucky, he’d have another chance. Only he wasn’t stupid enough to risk incurring MEGA-Man’s wrath by committing the deed himself. He’d inform Jori and let him decide what to do.
The message icon appeared and Blakesley broke from his daydreaming. He clicked it, then blinked. “That’s it?” he asked with a tone of consternation. “Noted? That’s all you have to say?”
He drummed his fingers as vexation spurted into anger. He’d hoped for more, such as instructions for him to take charge. But noted? What in the hell was he supposed to do with that?
He pushed away from his desk with a huff. Since going higher up didn’t work, he had the other angle to try. Jori didn’t trust him, so he’d go through someone else—someone expendable with the lowest rank and lowest intellectual capacity. After all, Vance wouldn’t be paying any attention to the doings of a mouse.
He exited his office, barely avoiding a cleaning bot, then used his sensing ability to verify Rodrigo’s location.
The cafeteria. Of course. The young man visited there at the same time every single day. He entered the conveyor and considered his approach. Rigo had idolized the boy and his abilities before even meeting him. Manipulating him would be easy.
Blakesley turned into the cafeteria, not caring for how similarly sterile it was to the medical facilities. Most of their food came from the self-serve fabricors that the robots cleaned twice a day. The service bots also kept the white tables bright and sanitized the white dishware and flatware.
Rodrigo sat hunched over a table. He didn’t use a fork as he picked up his bread and bit into it. Blakesley wrinkled his nose. Only animals ate with their hands.
After ordering a protein pie, he put aside his distaste and wore a smile instead. “Hello, Rigo. May I join you?”
The young man’s mouth split into a delighted grin. “Sure, Major.”
“Thank you.” Blakesley set his plate on the small round table and pulled out the chair across from him. “How have you been?”
Rodrigo’s head bounded up and down as he chewed a mouthful of the disgusting bread. Some sort of red and yellow sauce oozed from between the slices. Something more solid lay between them too. At least it was brown like a pseudo-meat.
“How about you, Sir?” Rigo asked with his mouth still half full of food. The sauces had mixed with the rest, making a vomit-inducing mash.
Blakesley attempted to appear sorrowful. “Well. Quite frankly, I’m worried.”
“Yeah? ‘Bout what?”
“Jori.”
Rigo bobbed his head again. “He doesn’t seem too keen on being here, ya know?”
“It’s not only that.” Blakesley picked at his meal, hating the texture of the pie. It seemed the fabricors needed tuning. “Vance is testing his ability to endure pain.”
“Oh?”
Rodrigo’s lack of concern told Blakesley he wasn’t getting it. Idiot. “Do you understand what has to be done in order to tell how well someone can withstand pain?”
Rigo stopped chewing and cocked his head. Several agonizing seconds later, his eyes widened. “He’s being hurt?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Aw, man. What do we do?”
“Since Vance won’t be deterred, I’m at a complete loss. Sometimes I wish there was a way for the boy to leave this place.”
“He can’t leave!”
Blakesley shushed him and glanced about, hoping no one cared enough about the outburst to report it to Vance.
“He’s important to our cause,” Rodrigo added in a normal tone.
Blakesley bit down at the little man’s fanaticism and wore an anguished expression. “But he’s being tortured. What if Vance maims or kills him?”
“Naw,” Rodrigo said, this time with no food in his mouth. “He wouldn’t do that.”
Ugh! Rigo worshiped Vance about as much as he did Jori. What would it take to convince him? “He might. And even if he doesn’t, I fear the torture is turning the boy away from us.”
Rodrigo’s face scrunched up, then he shook his head. “The boss has hurt all of us at some point or another. It’s all been for the good, ya know?”
Blakesley wanted to scream but he pressed on. “The difference is that Jori is a child. Not only is child abuse wrong, but children this age are stubborn. This boy included. He won’t forgive this.”
Rigo bobbed his head. “Yeah. Yeah. You might be right.”
Finally. “I can’t do anything to help him because Vance monitors me. But he trusts you. And Jori is your friend. You can do something for him.”
“Hmm. I don’t know.”
“Just think about it. It’s not like him leaving here now means he’ll be gone forever. I have no doubt MEGA-Man will send others for him again. And perhaps that person will treat him better than Vance. It might even be someone the boy likes, like you.”
Rodrigo sat upright for the first time since Blakesley had arrived. A beaming smile spread across his face. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”
Blakesley inhaled. The satisfaction he’d been seeking finally suffused through him. By enlisting this man’s help, he didn’t have to risk involvement. The trick now was to somehow turn Jori’s desire to leave into a desire to eliminate his tormentor.
Like his fabricated pie crust, the plan was flimsy—but it was a start.
28 – Ally?
A crushing ache settled deep into the tissues of Jori’s body. It sharpened now and then, keeping him suspended above the brink of unconsciousness. He dared not move, not even to open his eyes. Only his chest rose and fell, creating a rhythm that Master Bunmi had taught him to use as a meditative shield against the pain.
Whenever Father had withheld medical attention, he expected the prolonged suffering to inspire remorse. But all it did was bolster Jori’s defiance.
This time was no different. He despised Vance as much as he did his father. His determination to stand up against him grew. He’d put on a guise of cooperation for Zaina’s sake, but he’d never give in. Not ever.
Even now, he plotted.
A hydraulic hiss scattered his thoughts. Rodrigo’s faint lifeforce invaded his private room. Jori wanted to groan but didn’t want to reveal he was awake.
Rigo shuffled in. “It’s true. It’s true,” he mumbled.
What’s true? Did Vance maim him? The thought of being paralyzed and forever at that monster’s mercy sent his heart racing. He willed his hand to move, then his foot. The tightness in his chest eased as his muscles responded.
Rodrigo’s footsteps tapped on the floor as he paced. “This isn’t right. No. Not at all. What to do? What to do?”
Jori imagined Rigo wringing his hands and bobbing his head as he rattled on. The temptation to open his eyes and ask what was wrong niggled at him. If he did, the steadiness of his pain would shatter, and he’d have to confront whatever horrible thing Vance had done to him.
“It’s only for a while, though,” Rodrigo muttered on. “He’ll be fine. Better than fine. But he doesn’t like it. I know he doesn’t. How can I convince him it’ll be okay?”
Every word the man spoke heightened Jori’s confusion until he could stand it no more. He fluttered his eyes open, letting them adjust to the light. The hazy form of Rigo appeared, then slowly sharpened. The man bobbed back and forth just as he’d imagined but bit his nails instead of his usual handwringing.
Jori tried to get his attention, but the tightness in his throat prevented him from speaking. He swallowed. The resulting discomfort plunged through him like a demolition ship but broke out his voice in a pain-riddled moan.
Rodrigo halted and a grin spread across his face. “You’re awake! Good. Good. Before you know it, you’ll be up and about and enjoying yourself again.”
Jori scowled. “Enjoy—” The dryness in his throat forced him to cough. He worked his mouth to build saliva. “Enjoy being a prisoner? Not likely.”
Rigo wrung his hands. “But it won’t be that way forever. You’re special. They’ll treat you like a king. You’ll see.”
The man’s optimism grated on Jori’s nerves. Arguing would do no good, so he deepened his frown instead.
Oblivious as usual, Rodrigo took it as a good sign. He bobbed his head and smiled. “You’ll be the greatest MEGA ever. You’ll see. You’ll see.”
“What were you talking about earlier?” Jori asked, his achy throat making his voice rough.
Rigo’s eyes dulled in confusion.
Jori huffed. “You said it’s not right. What isn’t right? What did he do to me?”
“Who?”
“Vance?”
“Oh!” Rigo’s brows shot up. “That. Well, you know already. I mean, you were there.”
“No.” Jori wanted to shake his head in exasperation, but his neck was too stiff and the throbbing in his skull told him it was a bad idea. “I meant, did he maim me? Will I be alright?”
“Oh, yeah. Better than alright. The best. You’ll see.”
“I don’t want to see!” Jori clenched his fists, sending a pang up his arm that fed into his temper. “I want to get off this damn ship.”
Rodrigo shrunk back. “But wouldn’t you rather be great like Vance? Like MEGA-Man?”
“No,” Jori barked, then winced as his pain sharpened.
“But—but you’ll be a hero. Everyone will admire you. You’ll have—”
“No,” Jori said again, softly this time. He shouldn’t take his anger out on this man. After all, Rigo wasn’t a bad person. Just idiotically naïve.
Rigo cocked his head as though in thought, but Jori doubted his wheel spun in the right direction. His bobbing increased and his smile spread. “I know. I know what to do. It’s a good idea. It is. You’ll see. You’ll really see.”
“What damn it?”
“No. No. It’s a surprise,” Rigo said.
A surprise sounded good on the surface. He hoped Rodrigo would be an ally in helping him escape, but the disquiet wriggling through his gut told him otherwise.
The door swished open and saved him from further contemplation. The smile of someone far more intelligent lifted Jori’s spirits, but only for a moment. Doctor Stephen Stenson’s expression descended as he regarded Jori. Guilt spewed from him. “Would you please excuse us?” he asked Rodrigo.
“Sure. Sure.” Rigo bowed a few times and left, still wearing that idiotic grin.
Stephen rested his hand on Jori’s head. “I’m so sorry, young one.”
“I’ll be alright,” Jori said. The doctor’s eyes watered at the croaking of his throat. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is.” Stephen patted him gingerly. “I should help you. I want to, but…” He sighed. “I’m too much of a coward.”
“I understand. You’re protecting your wife.”
The doctor nodded. “Thank you. You’re such a kind boy.”
Jori wasn’t so sure about that but warmed at the man’s words anyway. Too bad Stephen couldn’t be his ally.
“I-I... Uh,” the doctor stuttered. “I have something for you. With permission from Vance. It’s electrolytes.” He attached a fluid-filled bag to a hook by his bed and pulled some items from a nearby drawer with shaky hands.
Jori sensed that he’d spoken truthfully, so what was he nervous about? “What are you doing?”
Doctor Stenson’s smile was slight but genuine. “I need to stick a needle into you. Don’t worry. I’m not doing anything to hurt you.”
