Avalon

CHAPTER 22

THE FIRST PUNCH STRUCK HIM IN THE GUT, JUST BELOW the rib cage. The second landed higher. Jeth felt the rib snap in a bright burst of pain that radiated outward like a bomb. He tried to hunch over to lessen the agony, but firm hands on his arms held him upright and in place.

Sergei Castile grinned at Jeth, pleasure making his broad face glow.

“Isn’t this a little beneath you?” Jeth said between shallows pants. “I didn’t think Hammer would use his general for something as mundane as a beating.”

The two Malleus Guards holding Jeth in place tightened their grip on his arms, fingers biting into his naked flesh. They’d stripped him down to just his pants the moment they’d forced him into this cell, just minutes after their arrival at Peltraz. To Jeth’s shock, he recognized one of the Guards as Trent Danforth, the smelly, oily man who had once run tech ops for the Shades. Jeth hadn’t seen him in a long time, not since he’d been caught betraying Hammer. Danforth was horribly changed—twice as big as he used to be and with all traces of his former personality gone. He was nothing but a shell wearing Danforth’s face.

Sergei’s fist collided with Jeth’s jaw. Starbursts shot across his vision.

“I volunteered especially for you,” Sergei said.

Jeth spat blood. “Glad to know I rank so high.”

Sergei adjusted the glove on his right hand, pulling the protective inner layer snug over his knuckles. The outer layer consisted of a material as hard and dense as metal.

Jeth eyed the glove, trying not to flinch. “Does it make you feel like a big man, beating up on someone who can’t fight back? Or maybe you just get off on it.”

Sergei’s answer landed against Jeth’s cheek and nose. Blood spurted from both nostrils and tears stung his eyes. A kick to the stomach followed next, obliterating any desire Jeth had to continue taunting.

Sergei rained down blow after blow, his fists as merciless as mallets and the Guards’ grip on his arms as unyielding as steel. Jeth tried to turn his thoughts inward to block out the pain. He refused to cry or beg or ask the questions burning in his mind. Where is my sister? What are you doing to my friends? More than once he lost consciousness, only to be revived again when the Guards dumped ice water over his head.

Delirious, Jeth wasn’t aware of when it finally ended.

He awoke sometime later, lying on the hard floor of the cell, his body damp from the puddle of bloodstained water beneath him. He forced his swollen eyes open and saw a pair of black boots so polished they glistened even in the dim overhead light of the cell. Only one man Jeth knew wore boots so clean and expensive. He craned his neck and saw Hammer Dafoe standing over him, hands on hips, his expression made of stone.

Jeth lowered his head, content to lie there as waves of agony rolled through him. He’d known trouble was coming when Hammer’s ship arrived for them instead of Renford’s, but he’d never imagined pain like this. The mind was incapable. It’ll pass soon, Jeth told himself. It had to. Either that or he would die, and even then it would still be over.

“Get him up,” Hammer said.

Jeth squeezed his eyes closed as rough hands grabbed his arms and hauled him up. Bare feet slipping in the muck, Jeth groaned from the effort of trying to gain his footing and support his own body weight.

Hammer grunted disdainfully. Jeth wanted to scream at him, but that would require expanding his lungs, and there was nothing he wanted to do less at the moment.

“Set him down over there,” Hammer said. “Doesn’t look like he’s man enough to stand on his own.”

The Guard dropped him onto a concrete bench in the back of the cell hard enough that his teeth clanked together. With a massive effort, Jeth managed to stay in an upright position, his back propped against the wall.

“Leave us alone,” Hammer said, and the Guards left without a word.

Jeth leaned his head back and gave Hammer the fiercest glare he could muster, a difficult feat with the swelling around both his eyes. “Where’s my crew?”

“Not far from here.”

Jeth swallowed. “If you hurt—” He broke off, unable even to voice the possibility of such a thing and wary of more pain. “Where’s Lizzie?” He knew the question was pointless, but his worry for her consumed rational thought. He’d already lost Avalon and Milton. He couldn’t lose her, too.

“Your sister is fine. For the moment. And I must say, I was surprised to see how attractive a young woman she’s become. It’s been a while since I’ve really looked at her.”

Hot anger surged through Jeth at Hammer’s insinuation. It burned the hurt right out of him, and Jeth leaped up, prepared to rip the man’s throat out with his bare hands. It was foolish, stupid, but desperation spurred him on. Hammer’s punch landed first, and in Jeth’s weakened state, he crumpled beneath it. He hit the ground hard enough that all the air whooshed out of his lungs. He gasped, each breath a knife in his side.

Hammer yanked Jeth up and dropped him on the bench. “Try that again and I will have my men break your kneecaps. Understand?”

Jeth nodded, trying to think clearly through the haze of pain.

“Now, why don’t you tell me the truth about what happened in the Belgrave?”

Jeth struggled to remember the story that he and the others had agreed on in those few short minutes they’d had before Hammer’s men had brought them on board the starship. It seemed forever ago. No one had asked them a single thing during the entire trip back to Peltraz.

“And don’t bother repeating that cock and bull about being innocent victims just trying to help the survivors,” said Hammer. “I know it’s not true. Too many things don’t add up. My men tell me that not long before we picked you up you made a call to an unidentified contact using an encrypted calling card.” Hammer reached into his front pocket and withdrew Renford’s calling card. “This one. Now who could you have called? And why? Even more peculiar, why would the thieves who stole your ship bother sending a message saying where I could find you?”

Jeth blinked. “A message?”

“Oh, yes,” Hammer said. “It came from Avalon. Why would they go to such trouble?”

No idea. Jeth ran his tongue over his teeth, testing them for looseness. “Maybe it was Milton. He was still on the ship when they took it.”

“Perhaps,” Hammer said, returning the card to his pocket. “But I think it’s time to tell me the real story. Unless you want me to have Sergei extract it from your crew instead.”

Jeth closed his eyes as an image of Lizzie receiving the same kind of beating at Sergei’s hands made him shudder. He didn’t have any fight left in him, nor any strength left to spin a new story. “All right,” he said.

Then he told Hammer the truth about what happened, about finding the survivors, the metadrive failing, and Sierra’s offer of a solution. He even told him about Renford approaching them during the Montrose job.

Outrage seemed to sparkle in Hammer’s tiny black eyes as he listened. “Agent Renford of the ITA? Marcus Renford?”

Jeth nodded, wondering vaguely at Hammer’s recognition. “That’s who the calling card belongs to.”

“Ah,” said Hammer. “Well, go on.”

“That’s it,” Jeth said. “I told you everything.”

Hammer inclined his head. “What about the Aether Project? Did you ever actually see it?”

“No.”

“I see.”

Jeth braced for whatever retribution Hammer would deliver now. He wouldn’t be surprised if the man killed him with his bare hands.

Yet amazingly, Hammer kept his temper in check, pretending to be wounded instead. “What I don’t understand is why you would betray me in the first place.”

Jeth drew a defeated breath. “I wanted my ship.”

“But I already promised you your ship when you completed the job.”

“You lied.”

Hammer gaped, as if Jeth had spoken in gibberish.

Jeth went on. “We both know you never intended to give me the ship and let me go. The crew is too valuable. So, I figured I needed something to trade that you wanted more than us.”

“Ah,” Hammer said. “The Aether Project.”

Jeth nodded.

A cold smile lifted Hammer’s lips for a moment. “Yes, something as valuable as that might’ve made the bargain work. Can you imagine it? All the secrets of metatech, everything the ITA has hoarded for hundreds of years.” Hammer shook his head. “Pity you didn’t manage to pull it off.”

“So the Aether Project was the weapon you were after?”

“Yes. It’s the weapon I’m still after.”

The knowledge of how close he’d come to succeeding burned inside Jeth. He gritted his teeth, then stopped as he felt one of them move ominously.

Hammer folded his arms. “Still, you’re resourceful, Jeth. Smart and good in a pinch. Remarkable for someone so young.”

Unfazed by the change in topic, Jeth said, “Let me guess, I remind you of you, right?” Bitterness emboldened him as he remembered how Hammer had once said he was like a son.

Hammer smirked. “Not at all. At your age, I was prone to attacking first and thinking later. I only managed to get as far as I did then because I was so damn good at fighting. And I’ve never been afraid of doing what needed to be done.”

Jeth didn’t doubt it. He shivered. Nothing Hammer had said or done so far had frightened him as much as that statement.

Hammer turned around and walked to the door. That’s it? He’s leaving? But Hammer stepped to the right of the door and placed his hand on a metal panel on the wall. A second later a compartment opened above the panel, revealing two objects Jeth couldn’t make out from where he sat.

Hammer picked both up, hiding them in his hands, and returned to Jeth. “Do you want to know what the key to my success has been?”

“Not really.” Jeth knew he shouldn’t be flip, but he couldn’t help it. The hopelessness of the situation gnashed at him with razor-sharp teeth. A part of him wanted it to be over. All of it. He was so tired, so beaten down, loss like a giant gaping hole inside him. If it weren’t for Lizzie . . .

“Loyalty,” Hammer went on. “That’s the key. It’s what’s made you so successful as well, you know. The loyalty of your crew. How they’re willing to follow you anywhere. It’s the mark of a good leader and one of the reasons I picked you.”

Jeth didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust his voice to speak.

“Yes, loyalty. You have to command it in your people if you want to lead. Betrayal can bring down an entire empire. It’s something I can’t tolerate. Like a cancer, it must be cut out before it spreads.”

Jeth swallowed. Here it was. The punishment that would make Sergei’s thrashing feel like a pleasant massage. Does dying hurt? he wondered. What will happen to Lizzie when I’m gone?

Hammer said, “But disloyalty isn’t a problem in my organization, because this device eradicates such behavior.” Hammer turned his left hand over, revealing one of the objects. It looked like a large clear-colored spider with flaccid, rubbery legs—a brain implant of the Malleus Guard.

“You’ve seen these before, but do you know how they work?” Hammer flipped the thing over, revealing a long, thick needle. “Once this is inserted it can never be removed. It controls electrical impulses in the brain. I can command it to block sensations of fear or pain. Or to take away the desire to think for yourself, turn you into something mindless, a drone that only follows commands. In other words, it can take away your free will.”

Jeth stared at the thing. It looked more like a spider than ever, one that fed on souls instead of blood. And Hammer commands it. Jeth examined Hammer’s appearance, realizing for the first time that he wasn’t wearing his red implant.

“I use this particular device on the Guard because they are unworthy to be Brethren,” said Hammer. “They might have committed a crime against me or they might lack the necessary intelligence, or their psychological profile suggests they are prone to cowardice. Or, more likely, betrayal.”

Like me, Jeth thought, catching the subtext in Hammer’s words. A cold sensation slid over his skin, seeming to absorb inward, chilling his heart. He pictured Danforth, remembering how he once had been and how he was now. The comparison made him shudder.

Hammer turned over his right hand, revealing another spider-like object, this one black. “This device is for the people whose loyalty I wish to have willingly and not by force. It can be safely removed, and while it does enhance key cognitive abilities, it does not remove the ability or desire for self will. On the contrary, I want my Brethren to think and act on their own. There are too many situations that require reasoning and ingenuity, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Oh, Jeth could imagine it all right. It was the difference between sentience and machinery. Between life and a pale mockery of it.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention,” Hammer said, his tone perversely casual. “This one”—he held up the clear-colored device—“can also shut down brain functionality entirely from a single command, or at the detection of a foolish attempt to remove it.”

Jeth smacked his lips, which had swollen to the size of his index fingers. “You mean it can kill you from the inside.”

Hammer bared his teeth. They were small in his fat face, white and sharp. “Precisely. Now, let’s get down to it. One of these is destined for you. It’s been in your future from the moment your uncle sat down at that gaming table and gambled first your ship and then your life away.”

The world seemed to lurch sideways as the full meaning of Hammer’s words struck Jeth. “He gambled me?”

“Oh, not so literally. He’d already lost Avalon and was desperate to get the ship back, but he had no collateral for the game. Instead I offered him a deal. If he won, he got Avalon back. If he lost, he would stay and become a permanent resident of Peltraz and do freelance doctoring when I needed it. At the time, I didn’t realize what a valuable asset his young wards would turn out to be. Not that it took long.”

No, it didn’t. Jeth had started working for Hammer mere months after Milton lost Avalon. It had never occurred to him to wonder why Milton hadn’t just found some other way out of Peltraz, taking Jeth and Sierra somewhere planet-side. A place where Jeth wouldn’t have drawn the interest of a crime lord and where Lizzie could’ve gone to school and been a normal kid.

“So, you see,” Hammer continued, “I decided years ago that you would become a member of my personal security force. I’ve been molding you for it ever since.”

Jeth glowered. “You haven’t molded me into anything. I’m nothing like you.”

Hammer gave him a patient look. “Then why don’t you ask yourself why you’re so good at being bad.”

Jeth managed a scowl despite the injuries on his face. “Fine, if you’re so certain about me, why didn’t you just implant the damn thing already and be done with it. I know you don’t have a problem forcing people into your service.”

“Not at all, although I prefer willing members instead of conscripted ones. The Guard have their uses, of course, but they could hardly be considered sufficient manpower for the kind of interplanetary organization I run. That’s why I have the Brethren. And only the willing ever join the Brethren.” He pulled out his personal comm and checked it briefly. “Now, there’s one little hitch. You were born on Therin, which is a Confederated planet.”

“So what?”

“These implants were designed by the ITA. They’re legal, Jeth, and I’m not the only one to use them. There are many governments across the galaxy that do. The black ones are normally for soldiers, the clear ones for prisoners—or slaves. The ITA carefully monitors each device, and they cannot be activated on anyone registered with the Confederation who is under eighteen. Like you.” Hammer paused. “Except you will be eighteen very soon.”

Just a few days. Jeth closed his eyes, willing himself to be unconscious again, willing himself to somehow enter metaspace without a drive or gate and be gone from here. Gone so far that no one could ever reach him again. But it was a child’s fantasy.

Jeth summoned what remained of his courage and said in an even voice, “What exactly are you threatening?”

“Oh, it’s not a threat, merely a statement of fact.”

Hammer returned the two implants to the compartment on the wall. Then he faced Jeth again and slipped a hand inside the front of his jacket, withdrawing a small, rectangular case. Hammer opened it, revealing the red brain implant he normally wore. Except for its color, the thing looked no different from the other two implants. He pulled it out, flipped it over in his hand, and then raised the sharp point to the back of his head. Then, with a sickeningly wet sound, Hammer pushed the thing into his skull. The flaccid red tentacles surged to life, stretching up and outward, wrapping themselves around the base of Hammer’s head and neck.

Jeth flinched and looked away, his stomach churning.

“In a moment,” Hammer said, “I will summon Sergei to take you to a private medical facility where my physicians will insert into your brain and spine the architecture necessary to support an implant. It’s a relatively simple procedure, all things considered, and when you wake up you won’t have much more than a headache. Then, when you turn eighteen in a little over a week from now, you will receive one of the implants I showed you. All of this will happen, whether you like it or not. Which implant you receive, however—now, that will be up to you.”

Hammer took a deep breath and then leaned toward Jeth, his expression menacing. “Betray me again, continue to defy me, or make any attempt to escape my service, and you will receive the clear one, the one for the Guard. I will have it inserted in you and, when the rest of your crew comes of age, in them as well. Shady and Flynn will become members of the Guard along with you, while Celeste and your sister will be placed in one of my brothels.” A slow, icy smile formed on Hammer’s face. “And the beautiful thing about this arrangement is that you won’t even care.”

If Jeth had anything left in his stomach he might have vomited. As it was, he could only sit there, frozen in place by terror and dread. And that suffocating hopeless feeling.

“If, in the time you have left, however,” Hammer continued, “you can find some way to earn my trust, to convince me that your loyalty is certain and that you will never again attempt to betray me, I will give you the second implant. Things will stay just as they are now. You and your crew will continue to do jobs as appropriate, and you will slowly rise through my ranks of Brethren, perhaps even becoming general yourself someday. You will never want for work or food or purpose.”

Jeth didn’t doubt it. But there was something so much more important that he would long for with every fiber of his being for as long as he lived.

Freedom.

It wasn’t a choice at all. One way or another, this was a life sentence.