Machinations and Sacrifices, page 10
The rows of bodies seemed never ending. The numbers became names for the dead. Number eighteen had black hair and blue eyes. If it weren’t for the fangs, peeking from the grimace that froze her lips, she could’ve passed for an Almighty. Number twenty-three’s eyes were a pale green like spring grass. Yet she’d never see another spring.
Trinity stopped counting at forty-two. She didn’t want to know any more of them. She trudged along, no longer trying to miss the entrails. It was impossible anyway. It took too long to try and find a tiny toehold to stand, and she had to get done. She had to get out of there before she raced from the room screaming.
Doctor Kalper leaned against the wall ahead of her, exhaustion taking over his aged features.
“Who would do this?” She stopped at the end of her aisle. “It makes no sense. Why didn’t they harvest the...meat?”
He sighed. It was a weary sound as if his body couldn’t handle any more grief and had to expel some before it burst into sadness. “There’s a lot you still don’t know about this world.”
“Tell me.” She’d do something about this. She was no longer a helpless fugitive. Now, she had power.
“Let’s go.” The doctor rubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll tell you everything I know on the way back.”
“We can’t leave them here.” Like garbage. Unwanted. Unloved. Unavenged. “We need to bury them and notify their families if possible.”
“You can send someone to gather the remains when we get back.” He made his way along the wall. It was the clearest path to the door. “I doubt you’ll find their families though. Guards and Servants are usually taken from their parents a little after birth.”
“We can try.” She’d forgotten how the other classes had lived. Producers grew up with their parents. Of course, they were then slaughtered and eaten, but her youth had been pleasant compared to that of Servants and Guards.
When they stepped out of the building, they both inhaled deeply. The stench, once so potent to them out here, was like the purest air after being inside.
Ott snorted, his large feet almost dancing when he saw them. He waved his arm, motioning for them to hurry. Trinity took in the crowd as they walked toward the carriage. More Servants had gathered, but none had approached the building.
“Did you find her?” Callie stood next to Ott, her legs twitching like she was ready to run. “Is she alive?”
The doctor shook his head, opening the carriage door. “She didn’t make it, but thanks to you, she wasn’t alone when she passed.” He motioned for the young Servant to get into the carriage.
“She’s dead? They’re all dead?” Callie’s voice took on that shrill tea kettle sound again. “What if someone saw me? What if they—”
“You can stay with me.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “You’ll be safe at my place. You know that.”
Callie nodded and almost flew into the carriage, squeezing herself into the corner. “It would’ve been me. If I hadn’t stayed out last ni—”
“But you did and you’re safe.” Dr. Kalper climbed inside, patting the young Servant’s arm.
Trinity hopped in after him, wiping her bloody hands on her pants as she sat next to Callie. “You said you’d tell me everything.”
“And I shall. As horrible as it is.” His eyes locked with hers—a lifetime of sadness in his blue gaze. “There are some in our culture who believe that specific organs from certain classes contain magical properties.”
“Magical? There’s no such thing as magic.” The hair on her arms stood as an image of the Forest Witch flashed through her mind.
“Perhaps more medicinal than magical but those beliefs hold no basis in science.”
“What did they take?” That explained the trail of guts spilling across the floor. Apparently, intestines weren’t magical, but they were delicious, according to Mirra. She couldn’t stop the shiver that danced down her spine.
“Different organs were missing from different Servants. Some seemed to be missing quite a few.” He looked out the window. “I didn’t examine them all. I should’ve, but I couldn’t. Not again.”
“You’ve seen this before.” She fought the bile that threatened to rise up her throat.
He nodded. “Once or twice over the years, but not like this.” He ran his hand over his face again as weariness settled over him. “Never this many. I believe it happens more often than I’ve seen, but the bodies aren’t usually found.”
“Why would someone leave so many of them like this? It’s sure to cause an investigation.”
“Our world has changed.” His gaze met hers. “It’s already impossible to buy Servants and Guards from the shelters. As soon as Hugh’s programs to help the other classes start expanding, it’ll be even more difficult to purchase and harvest the organs.”
“They’re stocking up.” A cold sweat broke out across her skin.
CHAPTER 20: Hugh
Hugh sat at the head of the council table, his eyes darting to the door for the hundredth time. It wasn’t like Trinity to be late. She knew how important these meetings were.
“Hugh, we need to discuss Jethro,” said Jackson.
“Yes. Of course.” He focused on those sitting at the table.
He’d created a council of advisors to help rule their world. Leaving all power in one Almighty’s hand wasn’t a good idea, even when he was that Almighty. The advisory board consisted of two from each class or at least it was supposed to. The Handlers and Trackers hadn’t been interested in participating and the Avions had all bickered over the job. Each one of them had wanted it. He’d gone against every instinct he’d had and had offered the job to Birdie and another Avion. They’d both crowed their promises but neither ever showed up for the meetings.
“Let’s hear the arguments for releasing Jethro,” he said.
Jackson tried, not very hard, to stifle a groan. They’d gone over these points on numerous occasions over the past months.
“For the record.” He nodded at the two Servants who transcribed everything said in these meetings.
“Again? Why?” asked Tim. “They haven’t changed from the last time when we decided to leave him in prison where he belongs.”
“Because it’s the process and—”
“That you created,” said Tim.
“Yes. The process that I created for the benefit of everyone. Going over the points before each decision is the right way to do this. Nothing is forgotten or left unspoken and it’s all down on record.” He was proud of this process and had no intention of changing it, unlike how the advisors were chosen. This time he’d picked them, and on days like today, he wondered what he’d been thinking when he’d selected these particular individuals.
He’d wanted a council filled with members loyal to their class and with their own ideas on the best way to become one society. So he’d purposefully picked some who didn’t always agree with him—Trinity, Jackson and Tim to be precise. Then he’d chosen Mirabelle because her father was an important Producer at the Remore camp, so she had experience with low-level politics. Plus, she didn’t see eye-to-eye with Trinity which helped balance the Producers.
Next, he’d chosen Reese, his one moment of clarity, because he could trust her. She almost always sided with him as opposed to Jackson who definitely had his own thoughts about issues. He must’ve been mad to select Tim. The Servant never agreed with him. Ever.
He’d also picked Barney as Tim’s opposite. He didn’t know many Grunts, so he’d selected Cack’s wife and brother. It helped them supplement their income since Cack had died serving the Allied Classes. As for the Stockers, he’d chosen an older male and a younger one. The two seldom agreed on anything which kept them balanced.
That left the other Almighty. This was where he’d been moved by either a moment of brilliance or insanity.
“This is ridiculous.” Conguise’s lips turned up in a sneer.
Today, he was leaning toward insanity. He’d chosen the professor because it’d appeased the Almightys who still respected the old way, and it kept his enemy close.
“You know this is a waste of time,” continued Conguise.
“Rules, Professor. None of us in this new government are above the law.” His eyes locked with Conguise’s. The professor was experimenting on Servants and Guards on Level Five. It was both illegal and unethical. Unfortunately, he couldn’t prove it. Yet.
“Don’t dance around it, Hugh. Say it out loud. Exactly what are you accusing me of doing? What law did I break besides the moral one of turning on my friend and leader to save...Trinity?” The professor’s throat almost spasmed as he said her name. He more than hated her and what she stood for—an amalgamation of the classes and an end to the falsely perceived superiority of Almightys.
“You’ll know if I’m accusing you of something. Just like I was aware when you and the Council accused me of treason.” He yearned to spill all his suspicions to the world. Even Conguise’s most loyal supporters would turn on him for what he was doing, but he couldn’t until he had unequivocal proof. He’d find it. Someday. Somehow. When he did, he’d accuse Conguise with soldiers, an arrest and an execution. “Right now, I’m reminding everyone”—he glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on the door for a moment—“that the laws apply to each of us as well as those we serve. We will not have another situation like we had with Jason.” His eyes locked with Conguise’s again. “You know. Your good friend.” He couldn’t help the jab. The former Supreme Almighty’s predilection for underage female Servants had come out in the investigation.
“I had nothing to do with his....non-business activities.” The professor’s face turned a brilliant shade of red.
Hugh held his breath. If the older Almighty had a heart-attack it’d save him a lot of problems.
“Jason’s actions were despicable. It’s debasing.” Conguise’s face wrinkled in disgust.
A soft growl rumbled from Jackson’s chest. He and Kim were in an open mixed-class relationship. The Guard was loyal and even tempered, except when it came to Kim.
Although he’d love to see Jackson tear Conguise apart, he’d better calm the room because he didn’t need a martyr for the old ways. There were still pockets of fighting in the woods between those who wanted life to return to how it’d been for centuries. “I’m going to assume that you mean the trafficking and rape of young Servants and not the intermingling of the classes.”
“Of course.” Conguise glanced about the room, his face cooling to a soft pink.
“Hugh,” Cack’s widow Bitt glanced at the door. “I need to get home soon.”
“Again he’s sidetracked the issue,” said Conguise. “We cannot leave until we have his agreement to set Jethro free.”
“And I’m not agreeing to anything until we follow the protocols that are in place. I want to hear the arguments for releasing Jethro Remore from prison.”
“He was acting under his duties as a soldier. Following orders from his betters,” said Conguise. “You’ve freed others, including Cal, who were more tied to the old regime than Jethro.”
“You make him sound like nothing but a good soldier but was he really? Yes, he was very good at his job—hunting and killing—but he did what he wanted not what he was ordered. That’s a dangerous quality especially in these times of unrest.” He wasn’t ready to set Jethro free. He needed the kid’s help and freedom was the only thing he had to offer the other Almighty.
“He told me about the weapons,” said Jackson. “Because of that information, I was able to warn you. Saving your life, I might add.”
“You came at an opportune time,” said Tim. “But Hugh and I would’ve made it into the Council Building on our own.”
Jethro was the one subject on which he and Tim were in agreement.
“Right,” said Jackson, his tone belying the word. “Not quite how I remember it.” His gaze darted to Bitt who stared at her hands.
“Yes...uhm...” Tim glanced away. “Cack did save us but that doesn’t mean Jethro should go free.”
“He isn’t a threat to anyone,” said Conguise.
“I’m not so sure about that.” His eyes met Conguise’s again.
He’d spoken to the professor in private before he’d been forced by his constituents to free the Almighty. He’d questioned Conguise thoroughly on the few documents—mostly order forms, inventory records and a few papers on basic experiments—his Guards had found on Level Five, including the treatment Jethro had received that’d allowed him to walk again. Conguise had rattled on about the genome sequencing he’d created that had been able to repair damaged tissue and muscle. Although the professor had made it sound plausible, Hugh didn’t believe any of it.
Conguise had injected Jethro with something new and dangerous. Something that should be beyond the realms of science. Something like what their ancestors had done to all of them before it’d been outlawed. He’d had the prison take everyone’s blood at intake and he’d studied Jethro’s. He had no idea what had been done to the kid, but Jethro wasn’t pure Almighty any longer.
“The only reason you don’t want Jethro released is because of his past with your fiancé.” Conguise’s voice almost purred with satisfaction. “You’ve released almost everyone else. Almighty soldiers. Guards. Servants. The only ones besides criminals who are still in jail are those who...dallied with the other classes and only a select few of those remain behind bars.”
“Yes. The ones who dallied”—he almost spat the word—“with young females and males who didn’t want what was done to them.” He inhaled deeply. “Having relations outside one’s class was illegal before the war, and it’s illegal now if it’s rape. Rape of anyone, no matter their class, will not be tolerated.”
“And yet Jethro did neither of these things.” Conguise’s long fingers tapped on the table like a spider preparing to jump. “Well, he did the first one but so did you...with the same female as a matter of fact.”
“Tim.” He didn’t even have to look to know that the Servant was ready to leap across the table and tear out Conguise’s eyes.
“Calm down.” Jackson jumped up, blocking Tim. “You know he does this to get to you. He wants you to leave. Then you can’t vote.”
Hugh had to hand it to Jackson. The Guard was loyal to a fault, but his loyalties were at odds. Having Tim leave the council room would’ve probably guaranteed Jethro’s release.
“You aren’t going to get that.” Tim sat back down in a huff. “But one more word about my daughter and I’ll catch you outside of this room. Outside of this building.’
“He’s threatening me.” Conguise sneered. “What kind of government...What kind of leadership allows threats in its chambers? How can I feel safe casting my vote honestly?”
“You’re afraid of a Servant?” Hugh leaned back in his chair. The professor had set this trap for himself.
“Of course not.” Conguise stiffened. “Let’s get to the vote.”
“So to be clear. The only argument you have for Jethro’s release is that I’m jealous?”
“No, but it’s the one that matters because it’s the truth.”
“No, it’s not.” It really wasn’t, but by the looks from the others no one believed him.
“Did you realize that Jethro is engaged?” asked Conguise.
All heads turned toward the professor.
“I guess not.” Conguise smiled. “He was promised to Jason’s granddaughter, Stella. To my knowledge this association is still in place.”
“Is this true?” Hugh turned toward Jackson.
“Not that I know”—the Guard shrugged—“but he could be. Jethro and I didn’t talk much before the war and still don’t. He isn’t allowed many visitors. Kim and I usually give our turns to his mother.” Jackson was getting better and better at these political moves.
“His poor mother. It can’t be easy for her with her son in prison and her livelihood gone. A strong, young male like Jethro could help care for his family.” Conguise looked around the room, his usual condescending glare softened to a fatherly plea. “Don’t you agree?”
“I need verification of his engagement.” This was the first he’d heard about a fiancé. He’d met Stella years ago when she’d been barely a teen, but she’d be an adult now.
The professor’s soft look disappeared like a shadow in the sun. “That proves that Jethro’s interest in your fiancé is the only reason you’re keeping him in jail.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Gruntshit. He’d walked right into that one. “A romantic involvement settles a male down.” It was the first thing he could think of and even as he said it, he felt the trap fall around him.
“Yes, a good female makes a male less likely to cause trouble, especially in troublesome times such as ours.” Conguise leaned forward, ready for the verbal kill. “Once again, I state the obvious. With his engagement there is no reason to keep him in jail.”
The professor had boxed him into a corner but only if this relationship existed. “I still need verification”—he tipped his head at the Servants who were writing everything down—“for the record.” He smiled but it was false. The professor was not a novice at political maneuvering. Conguise never would’ve mentioned this without proof.
“She’s waiting outside.” Conguise’s tapping slowed as if there was no hurry now that he’d won the argument.
Everyone turned and Cruck, Cack’s brother, walked over to the door and opened it. A petite, blond Almighty stood from her place on a bench outside the door and walked into the council chambers. She was young and attractive, moving with a fluid grace. She and Jethro would make a cute couple. His large build and dark hair would make her look even more delicate.
She stopped a few feet away. Her blue eyes met Hugh’s for a quick moment before she looked down at the floor. “Your sovereign highness.” Even her voice was demure.
“That title no longer exists. You may call me Hugh.”
