When they entered the prison cell, Faquire was lying on his cot, seemingly fast asleep. Two of the guards roughly lifted him from the bed and set him on his feet. He was awake in an instant and tried to stand, but he fell to the floor as soon as they let go of him. Eriane leapt forward.
"Faquire," exclaimed Eriane. "Faquire, are you alright?"
"Faquire," exclaimed Eriane. "Faquire, are you alright?"
The guards did not wait, but immediately lifted him again and held him up by the arms. Faquire tried to raise his head and blinked hard, trying to focus on Eriane. It was then that Eriane realized that the drug given him earlier must not have worn off yet.
"Eriane?" said Faquire, still blinking hard and looking vaguely in the direction of Eriane's voice.
The guards moved forward without a word, half dragging, half carrying Faquire between the two of them. The third guard followed behind, ready to relieve either of the other two, should they grow tired. Eriane tried at first to delay them, wanting to speak to Faquire, but he realized quickly that the attempt was useless. Wysire drew him back, and the two of them followed the guards silently down the many halls to Djaisiuk's workroom.
Upon entering the room, Eriane and Wysire saw that a small cot, similar to the ones in the holding cells, had been placed at the far side of the room. There was an ankle restraint with a long cord attached to the wall at the foot of the cot. On this cot, the two guards holding Faquire deposited him while the third attached the free end of the restraint to Faquire's left ankle. The guards then left the room without a word, leaving the three boys alone.
Faquire lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling and looking a little confused.
"Faquire?" said Eriane again, stepping up to the cot.
Faquire turned his head and tried hard to see Eriane in the jumbled masses that swam before his eyes.
"Eriane?" he said. "What just happened? Where am I?"
"You're in Djaisiuk's workroom," replied Eriane. "He's not here right now though; he's asleep in the next room."
Faquire looked around as best he could, then shook his head.
"This isn't Djaisiuk's workroom," he said. "It's too large. I'm not so blind that I can't see that. And if he's in bed, how would we have gotten into it? No one can open the door but Djaisiuk."
"No, not that workroom," said Eriane. "We're not on the ship, remember? This is where he works now."
Faquire tensed and closed his jaw tightly as he turned his head again to look up at the ceiling. For a moment, he said nothing.
"Why am I here?" he asked at last through clenched teeth. "Does he want to experiment on me now?"
Eriane looked at Wysire, confused and concerned. The latter stepped forward.
"Faquire, you said that you would agree to stay with Djaisiuk," said Wysire. "Don't you remember?"
Faquire frowned and furrowed his brow in thought. Finally he shook his head. "No, I don't," he said. "But I believe you. Everything's been so strange lately, that I don't know what I've said or done."
Eriane and Wysire exchanged concerned glances.
"Faquire," said Eriane, "we discussed having you moved from the prison cells less than an hour ago. I said that you ought to stay with one of us until you'd recovered from whatever drug they had given you. You said that you wouldn't agree to it; that you didn't want them to think that you would serve them. Then I suggested Djaisiuk. You said that you would agree to stay with him if he didn't mind. Do you remember that?"
Faquire thought hard, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so," he said.
"We spoke with Kandryl -- Wysire and I," continued Eriane. "He said that the decision was up to Djaisiuk. We asked Djaisiuk, and he said that he did not mind. So you were moved here."
Faquire looked around again.
"I wish I could see where I was," he said. "I've had this often enough that I can tell that it's wearing off now, but I can also tell that it'll be a short time, at least, before I'll be able to see properly. Where is Djaisiuk? You said that he was asleep. How did you ask him?"
"We woke him," said Wysire softly. "Then he went back to bed."
"You woke him?" asked Faquire, with a grim smile. "My, my. Things have changed."
"Much has changed," agreed Wysire.
The three talked for a short time more, and Faquire's eyesight did return very nearly to normal before they left. He was also able to sit up and look about a little, although it wasn't easy. Eventually, they did have to leave, seeing that it was getting very late. Wysire offered to turn off the light as they left, and Faquire said that he would enjoy being able to sleep in darkness. He said that one never really appreciates such little luxuries until they are taken away. So the two left, turning out the light as they went, and Faquire went back to sleep.
The next morning, Djaisiuk arose as usual and entered his workroom. He might have been a little surprised at the light having been turned off, but he certainly didn't show it. He turned it on and went immediately to his computers and began to work. The light did not awaken Faquire. As usual, KiacylDjaisiuk arose. He started, at first, at the sight of Faquire, lying asleep there in the workroom, then stood for a moment in silence, frowning darkly. After a short time, he turned and went to the computers.
"That's one of your former shipmates from the holding cells, isn't it?" Kiacyl asked Djaisiuk. "Why is he here?"
Djaisiuk did not answer or even acknowledge the question. Kiacyl waited a moment or two for an answer, then shook his head and began his own work. He knew better than to expect an answer from Djaisiuk most of the time, but this was different; he expected at least a look or glance, acknowledging the question.
Faquire did wake up shortly after Kiacyl entered, and he lay for a moment looking around, seeming to be trying to remember where he was. He had scarcely sat up when the door opened again to admit the usual orderly with three meal trays. Faquire stiffened, seeing him, but the orderly took no notice of the young Komislavian in prison clothes. He silently placed the meal trays on the round table then turned and left the room.
Faquire frowned after the orderly, then looked at the meal trays with suspicion. When Djaisiuk turned from his work and moved to the table to eat, Faquire seemed to relax ever so slightly. He steadied himself cautiously and swung his legs over the side of the cot. As he stood, he first noticed Kiacyl. Kiacyl gave him at first only a passing glance, but when Faquire continued to stare darkly at him, Kiacyl returned the look with a purely Vukasovian expression of haughty scorn before turning again to his computer. Between them, it seemed that words were unnecessary; they communicated their opinions of one another very well without speech. Had Faquire been friendly, Kiacyl would doubtless have been generous (from a Vukasovian point of view) in his behavior towards him. But if Faquire wished to dislike him, then Kiacyl had no interest in playing. He considered himself to be infinitely above this young prisoner, both by birth and position. He certainly didn't need his friendship.
Djaisiuk took no notice of either and ate in silence. Faquire joined him at the table and began to eat also. He tried to speak to Djaisiuk in a very soft voice that Kiacyl could not overhear, but Djaisiuk paid him no heed. Faquire soon ceased his attempts and the meal was finished in silence.
Most of the rest of the day continued in silence as well. Faquire paced back and forth on the far side of the table from them, as far as his ankle restraint would allow as the other two worked. He would watch Kiacyl suspiciously from time to time, but Kiacyl did not seem to care; for his part, he chose to ignore Faquire. Djaisiuk looked at neither of them.
When two dinner dishes were eventually brought that evening, Kiacyl left the room to join the other boys, and Djaisiuk and Faquire were at last left alone.
"Djaisiuk," said Faquire aloud as they sat at the table together eating. "Is that boy a spy? Is he set here to keep an eye on you?"
Djaisiuk did not respond.
"I'm very grateful to you for allowing me to come and to stay with you, even if it's only for a short time," continued Faquire. "You can't imagine how terrible it is to be holed up in that tiny cell with no privacy and people coming and going at all hours." He shuddered. "It must be unpleasant to have a Vukasovian with you constantly here too, but at least he's gone now. Is he here every day?"
Still no response.
Faquire looked hard at Djaisiuk then lent forward, resting his arms on the table.
"Djaisiuk, won't you tell me why you serve them?" he asked quietly. "I know that we're not to question you, but I must know. Besides, we're not on Komislava, or even on a Komislavian ship, so the rules really don't apply here, do they? Won't you tell me?"
Faquire looked long at him, but Djaisiuk gave no indication that he'd even heard the question.
"Have you seen Creole?" asked Faquire. "Or Christopher? Do you know whether they are as badly off as I was? What are the Vukasovians doing to them now? Do you think that they'll just kill them and me in time, seeing that we will never submit to working for them? Are any of the others suffering the psychological torment of knowing that they really are working for the enemies of our race?"
Djaisiuk continued to eat, his face forever impassive.
"Djaisiuk, do you even care?" asked Faquire in a low voice, seeming to be speaking to himself as much as to Djaisiuk.
If Djaisiuk did care, he certainly didn't show it. Faquire realized, as if for the first time, how little he knew Djaisiuk. Did Djaisiuk care? Was he concerned with anything or anyone beyond himself? Why was he working for the Vukasovians? Was it simply that he wanted to avoid the painful consequences of refusal? Surely not! But the doubt was there, just the same. Why was he doing this? And why wouldn't he say?
When the meal trays had finally been cleared away, Djaisiuk rose and went to his piano. Closing his eyes, he began to play softly. A soft, gentle melody crept through the room like a cool breeze or the soft sound of a stream on a summer's day. As Djaisiuk continued to play, Faquire, sitting on his cot again, felt that he could see his home on Komislava. The wind rustled through the trees, and the young calves leapt and played in the meadows. Faquire closed his eyes and felt the warm sunlight and smelled the soft grass. He saw the wheat field blowing in the wind, and he saw his older brothers racing their horses home from the pastures after a long day's work. He heard his mother working with his sisters in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and then he began to cry.
Faquire lifted his hands and covered his ears, trying in vain to block out the music and to hold back the tears. He didn't want to think of home. It was too painful! The love of his family and the joy of Komislava were beautiful, wonderful, but they broke through the defenses of anger that Faquire had built around his heart. He didn't want to think of them. He wanted to hold onto his anger, even though he knew that it was wrong. At least it blocked the pain.
Djaisiuk continued playing, and more and more memories of Komislava came vividly into Faquire's mind. He heard the birds singing in the early morning. He smelt the morning meal being prepared. He could taste the hot, fresh bread that his mother made. Faquire slowly slid his hands down from his ears to cover his face and sat still on his cot, weeping. And still the song continued. Faquire felt his youngest sister in his arms as he greeted her after being away at the IC School for a long time. He saw himself and his next older brother running up and down the steps of his family's house. He heard the lovely music of his father's mandolin. He felt his mother's soft kiss as she bid him goodnight. He heard the nightingales singing outside his bedroom window.
Slowly the song ended. Faquire no longer tried to suppress his tears. The pain was still great, but his anger had been completely washed away, at least for now. It might return in time, but for now Faquire abandoned himself entirely to the thoughts and memories of home that the song had stirred up within him.
Djaisiuk sat quietly at his piano for a short time after the song was finished. His own face registered no emotion. Finally, without looking at Faquire, he got up silently and returned to his computers to work.
Wysire had tried to visit Faquire that evening, but had been prevented from doing so. He had gone to Djaisiuk's workroom as soon as he had finished his own work, hoping then to find them both still awake, but was blocked by the guard from entering the room. Wysire said that he had come to visit Faquire, Djaisiuk's "roommate." The guard said simply that no one was permitted to enter without prior permission from Kandryl. Wysire said that he had entered twice before without hindrance. The guard replied that if it were so then he must then have had prior permission from Kandryl to do so. Wysire admitted that he had and said that he did not think that Kandryl would mind him entering again. The guard simply reiterated that no one was permitted to enter without prior permission from Kandryl.
Wysire had given it up at last and had gone to speak with Kandryl. The latter was very busy and not at all inclined to grant yet another request from the Komislavian counselor. He said that Wysire could not "bother" Djaisiuk, as he put it; he said that if Djaisiuk were awake, then he would be working, and Wysire's presence, speaking with Faquire, would be a distraction; and if Djaisiuk were asleep, then their voices might very easily awaken him, and Djaisiuk needed his sleep. Kandryl admitted that he had allowed both Eriane and Wysire to go to Djaisiuk's room only the night before, even knowing that Djaisiuk was then asleep, but thinking over it now he was inclined to think that it had been a mistake, he said. Yes, the boys had all been given permission to visit Djaisiuk once, even though it was then rather late at night, but that had been a single incident. It would probably not be repeated for some time, if, indeed, ever again. No, Wysire could not go to them tonight.
Wysire had at last left, discouraged, to join the other boys for dinner.
No comments:
Post a Comment