Stories and Ramblings

Epilogue

2010-08-12T21:52:00.000-04:00

Kandryl's trust in Djaisiuk was not misplaced: Kiacyl was kept safe. Djaisiuk brought him back to Komislava, and if the Vukasovians ever missed him, they did not think it worth while to inquire of the Komislavians whether they had him. It is possible that they thought that he would experience a far worse fate there than any that they themselves could concoct, knowing, as the Komislavians must, who and of whom this boy was.

When they reached Komislava, the boys were overjoyed to find their families there to greet them as they disembarked. The families had been informed by Taician that their sons (or brothers, as the case may be) had been found and were returning home, and each family had made the journey to the IC School to meet them.
Taician did not simply allow the boys vacation time; he mandated it. Each boy returned to their own home with their families for a minimum of two weeks. Djaisiuk alone remained at the IC School, because he was in no condition to make that trip. His family stayed at the school for two days, and Djaisiuk then entrusted Kiacyl to their care. Kiacyl then began the transition which would reshape his entire life.

Djaisiuk's older brother and sister were both married with families of their own by this time, but their children -- Djaisiuk's young nieces and nephews -- quickly adopted Kiacyl as a new uncle. His new, adopted parents too were very patient and kind and did all that they could to smooth the difficult path that Kiacyl had ahead of him. In time, Kiacyl did come to feel himself a member of the family and even called his adopted parents, 'Mother' and 'Father'.

Eventually, Kiacyl did marry, taking to wife a Komislavian girl who did not in the least mind the fact that her husband was a converted Vukasovian. Kiacyl's adventures seemed to begin anew for him when he entered on this new phase in life: that of marriage and child-rearing, but that is a story for another time.

* * * * * * *

The twelve boys went on only three more missions together before they were disbanded as a group.* Jaeger remained at the IC School for several years as an instructor and then went back to his father's home and became a hunter, though at a comparatively late age, following in his father's footsteps. Jade went on one further mission after they were disbanded with a different group whose navigator was away. He then remained at the IC School as an instructor and researcher for many years after his own marriage. Leil never returned to the school after this most dramatic mission; he withdrew his enrollment and was replaced by another engineer for the group's final two missions. Creole continued on missions until the very day before his twentieth birthday. He also remained as an instructor for several years, then returned at last to his family's farm with (by that time) his wife and five children. Christopher never joined another team, though he did go on a few more missions before retiring to be a researcher at the school. Eriane was reassigned to a new group until he turned nineteen, but he then also returned to the community where he had been born to continue to work in a medical capacity; he never truly returned to farm life. Faquire, Wysire, and Detrin were each assigned to new groups where they served for several years more. Cycil eventually went on to become an electrician, and Sandy became a doctor, with both of them assigned to the same group where their friendship continued to be close for many years.

Most of Djaisiuk's injuries were sufficiently healed before the group left on their next mission that he was able to function well. The upper half of his leg did heal eventually, though it was never quite as good as it had been. His foot and part of his lower leg would not heal, however, and these did have to be replaced with a prosthetic. In his comparatively sedentary lifestyle, this proved no hindrance to him. In fact, most who were not closely associated with him or this adventure never knew about it, although anyone could observe that he walked with a slight limp for the rest of his life. Whether this was actually due to the prosthetic or to incomplete healing of the knee or the rest of the leg, Djaisiuk never cared enough to inquire. The rest of his injuries healed so well in fact that most would never have been able to tell that he had ever been so injured.

Djaisiuk went with the group on each of their last three missions, then voluntarily went on two more before his twentieth birthday. He married at age eighteen, only a few months after the group's return from this, their great adventure, and began then on the most difficult and wonderful stage of his life up to that time. But, as with Kiacyl, the story of Djaisiuk as a husband and father must also wait for another time.

*A group remains together until the oldest member turns twenty. When a boy reaches that age, he is no longer a student. A boy may leave the school before reaching twenty, but he may not remain as a student past that age.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 41 - Counselor Incognito

2010-08-12T21:48:00.002-04:00

Kiacyl wandered aimlessly through the halls of the ship. His mind was consumed with so many thoughts. It couldn't be possible! he thought. Kiacyl had known, or thought he had known, why his father was sending him away. Kandryl must have produced a son worthy of him. Kiacyl knew that he was a blight on his father's reputation; Kandryl had been ashamed of him, and rightly so. The other intelligent officers had sons who were like themselves, but Kandryl had only Kiacyl, a boy of scarcely above-average intelligence.

Kiacyl knew well his father's story. When he was twenty, Kandryl had wished to bear a son, and he had been granted permission to try. The first baby conceived had had an adverse reaction to the genetic treatments given it to strengthen its mental abilities. The geneticists had terminated the pregnancy. Kandryl tried a second time with the same result. The third time was no different. Most intelligence workers were permitted no more than three attempts, but Kandryl was no usual worker. He was both physically strong and mentally superior. And his own intellect had been natural, that is without genetic manipulation, and so he could be expected to remain valuable longer than most others. With these qualifications, his request some few years after the third failed attempt for permission to again attempt reproduction was granted. After a fourth and fifth failed attempt, the geneticists were on the verge of declaring Kandryl incapable of useful reproduction. In what might almost be considered desperation, Kandryl requested permission to attempt to bear a natural son. This was almost never done, but Kandryl reasoned that he himself was intelligent enough naturally that he would have a much higher chance of producing a naturally useful heir than would most others. After a great deal of consideration on the part of Kandryl's superiors, this request too was at last granted. It was in this way that Kiacyl was conceived.

What Kandryl's reaction to the knowledge that Kiacyl was healthy and strong, but only slightly above average intelligence might have been, Kiacyl did not know. He knew only that he had been allowed to live and to grow. He was trained as an intelligent worker and lived as one. By the time that he was old enough to be viewed as a possible detriment to the other workers around himself, Kandryl too was old enough to be considered very valuable. It had been suggested that Kiacyl be put away, but Kandryl had countered this suggestion. He now had the authority to do so. Kiacyl was not a son of whom his father could be proud, but he was, at least, a son. Kandryl always kept Kiacyl near to himself, working in whatever facility Kandryl might then be managing. Even so, there was always a distance -- a sort of tension -- between them. Kandryl would not speak of Kiacyl as his son, nor was Kiacyl ever to speak to others of who his father was. This latter part was easy, because, being of lower intelligence, Kiacyl rarely spoke to anyone apart from his work.

Kiacyl knew that his father would wish to have a different son. It would not be until he was considered very, very valuable that he would ever be given permission to try again. Shortly before the arrival of the Komislavian boys, Kandryl had attained that position. Kiacyl had then considered it very likely that his father would try again. Whether or not he would succeed, none could say. But if he did, Kiacyl knew that something would have to be done with himself. He did not think that Kandryl would have him put away in the normal sense, for that would be to admit that the boy whom he had (secretly) called his son for thirteen years was, in truth, useless. But neither would he wish Kiacyl to continue to live, particularly taking into account the fact that Kiacyl was natural, meaning that he would likely live a long life.

When Kandryl had told Kiacyl that he was to accompany the Komislavian boys as they left Vukosava, Kiacyl had then believed that this was his method of disposing of Kiacyl himself. Why else would he have sent him away? Kiacyl had believed all of his life that this time would come, and he admired his father for his ingenuity in devising such a unique method of getting rid of him, but he had yet been hurt. He couldn't have explained why, and he would never have admitted it to anyone, but it did still hurt him, looking at his father for the final time, knowing that he would never see him again. He had always known that his father cared nothing for him, and yet somehow this final rejection, as it had seemed to him, was still painful.

But now Djaisiuk was saying that that hadn't been the case at all! He said that Kandryl had sent Kiacyl away in order to save his life.

Kiacyl had known somewhat of the experiment his father was conducting, and, now that he thought of it, it seemed that the experiment must have failed in some way if the Komislavians had come to fetch the group. How was that possible? But, he considered, what did it matter how it was done? If it was true that the experiment had failed and that it was known outside of Vukosava, then there was very little doubt that Kandryl would be executed. After all, for such a failure as that -- for bringing shame to the Vukasovian race -- death was unavoidable. Kiacyl also knew well that if his father was killed, he would himself immediately follow if he wasn't executed first.

If it hadn't been for the expression on his father's face as he had instructed Kiacyl to go with Djaisiuk and to obey him perfectly, Kiacyl felt that he might even now be able to deny it. But Kandryl had been almost agitated; Kiacyl had been able to see that much. And that was something that Kiacyl had never before seen in his father.

"You must go with Djaisiuk," Kandryl had said. "Obey him quickly and without question. Speak to no one but to him, unless he instructs you to do so, until you are well away from the planet."

Kiacyl's eyes had widened at this, and he had opened his mouth to question, but Kandryl had cut him off.

"Once you are well underway, Djaisiuk will explain," he had continued. "Remember, you must never tell anyone who your parents are."

Kandryl's last order had confused him slightly. Kiacyl had never told anyone, and he knew that he never would. Why would his father even have to tell him that? Kiacyl understood now. He was going to Komislava. He was supposed to accompany these Komislavian boys back to their own planet where he would be integrated into their culture. Kandryl had not wanted Kiacyl's silence for his own pride; he had wanted it for Kiacyl's own safety. Kandryl had kidnapped these Komislavian boys, had imprisoned them, had tortured them. Even if the Komislavians were all as kind as were these twelve, surely at least the families of these boys would be angry and perhaps vengeful on behalf of them. Kandryl had been seeking to protect his son. This thought awakened again the pain with which Kiacyl had struggled earlier. He stopped walking and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and to think clearly.

Kandryl had sent him away to save his life. His father had come to Djaisiuk, the one whom he'd so mistreated, and somehow convinced him to take Kiacyl with them when they left. What agony of humiliation had he had to endure in doing so? Kiacyl could not imagine nor did he want to do so. It couldn't be possible! Could it be that Kandryl really did care for Kiacyl? No! Kiacyl did not allow himself to believe it.

Wysire had said that his father had loved him. Such a statement was an insult worse than any Kiacyl could imagine. His father was a Vukasovian through and through, and he would never have allowed himself to be sullied by emotional weakness. 'Caring for someone leaves one open to manipulation.' Kandryl would never have allowed that in himself. Kiacyl was proud of his father; his father had had no weaknesses. No, Kiacyl assured himself; his father had not loved him, and he would never allow anyone to say otherwise.

But he had loved his father.

* * * * * * *

Kiacyl didn't know how far he'd walked when he saw one of the two adult doctors coming toward him. The doctor was looking down at a parchment as he walked, and he didn't notice Kiacyl until he had almost reached him.

"Oh, hello," said the doctor in a surprised tone when he finally looked up. "It's good to see you out and about at last. I know that you haven't left Djaisiuk's side in the last few days. You must be ready for a bit of exercise." He smiled.

Kiacyl looked at him, but didn't answer. His brows slowly creased into a frown.

"Oh dear! Where are my manners?" exclaimed the doctor, quickly tucking his parchment under his left arm and extending his right hand in greeting. "We really haven't been introduced. I am Cieru, physician worker of the IC School. And you are?"

Kiacyl's upper lip curled slightly in disgust, and he made no move to take the proffered hand.

"I am one who is under no obligation to give you any information whatsoever," he said scornfully.

The doctor's eyes widened in surprise. Before he could answer, however, Kiacyl heard another step approaching from behind him.

"Where are your manners indeed, Cieru!" said a commanding voice. "Is that any way to speak to a stranger?"

Kiacyl turned and saw the second doctor approach. This doctor regarded Cieru with a look of extreme displeasure. Glancing back at the first doctor, Kiacyl saw that he was now looking up at the newcomer, his surprise having doubled. The second doctor used the brief opportunity while Kiacyl was not looking at him to wink significantly at Cieru. Cieru frowned in confusion, but said nothing. When Kiacyl turned back to him, the second doctor wore again an expression of stern rebuke.

"Well, go along with you," he said to Cieru. "He's made it clear that he doesn't want your company."

Cieru continued to look at him incredulously for a moment, then, with a short glance at Kiacyl and a confused shake of the head, he walked past them and on down the hallway, pulling out his parchment again as he went. The other doctor then turned to Kiacyl as Cieru disappeared around a bend.

"Please accept my apologies for my kinsman," he said. "He's not well versed in the proper way to speak to strangers."

His voice and manners seemed cold and unfeeling for a Komislavian, though they would have been considered open and bordering on soft-spoken for a Vukasovian. Kiacyl looked at him suspiciously.

"Who are you?" he asked scornfully.

"Farion, doctor and professor of medical science of the Komislavian IC School, at your service," answered the doctor, drawing himself up proudly. Still he did not smile.

"We met once, didn't we?" Kiacyl asked.

"It's possible," the doctor replied. "I believe that I've seen you with Djaisiuk."

"You didn't act like this then," Kiacyl said in a voice that was almost accusing.

"I wasn't speaking with you then," came the immediate reply.

There was silence for a moment as the two regarded one another. At last, Farion stepped back and extending a hand out along the hall, as if showing the way ahead.

"If you'd like a tour of this ship, I'd be happy to show you around it," he said, still speaking in what he considered to be a tone of haughty indifference. "I've nothing else to do at the moment."

Kiacyl still regarded him with mild suspicion, but he stepped forward without a word and allowed himself to be shown around the ship. He too had nothing else to do at the moment, and he could expect to be on a Komislavian ship for several more days if he was soon sent back to Vukosava. Knowing his own way around one might prove useful.

This particular ship was not an especially large one, really, which was probably why a crew of four was sufficient to keep it running. It was certainly not made for a full IC crew. The main hall formed an ellipse, circling round the engine room. The doctor pointed out the open doorways and different halls leading to the many different rooms as they passed them. First came the storage rooms that had been quickly converted to sleeping quarters in order to have enough space for the twelve boys. A little further on and they passed the hall leading to the emergency medical room and its adjoining waiting room where Kiacyl had slept on the first night. Next came the engine room where the pilot and navigator worked. They both glanced up as the two passed, and Farion gave a brief introduction to Kiacyl, but the latter said nothing to them.

Farion explained each room as they passed and made a few comments about the ship in general from time to time. Kiacyl listened and occasionally asked a question or two which were answered in the same tone of voice as the explanations were given. Through it all, Farion was careful to avoid asking Kiacyl any questions. Finally, they came to the food preparation room.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?" asked Farion. "I'd like a cup of tea myself."

Kiacyl answered the question in the negative. He didn't feel like eating just now, and he wouldn't have eaten with this Komislavian regardless. He did sit at the small table, still with an expression of indifference and light suspicion, while Farion moved about the small room, preparing a pot of tea. Farion watched Kiacyl through this, but Kiacyl stared moodily down at the table. At last, the doctor joined him at the table.

"Well, now you've seen the ship," he said simply.

Kiacyl didn't look at him. Farion sipped his tea quietly.

"Will you be staying at the IC School on Komislava?" he asked.

"I won't be staying on Komislava," replied Kiacyl sharply. "I'll be returning to Vukosava."

"Do you mind if I ask why you are here in first place?"

"I'm here because the one whom you call Djaisiuk kidnapped me," Kiacyl replied.

Farion reacted only by raising his eyebrows. He then turned back to his tea and nodded understandingly.

"I understand that he is very, shall we say, eccentric," said Farion.

"Eccentric?" demanded Kiacyl. "Kidnapping is an inter-planetary offense. You call that eccentric?"

"You're right," nodded Farion. "I shouldn't call it that. It is strange, though. Why would he do such a thing?"

"He thought that I'd want it, so he says," sneered Kiacyl. "Apparently, he was told that I'd be killed if I stayed on Vukosava."

"Ah, and it wasn't a reliable source from which he obtained this information?"

"It was very reliable!" snapped Kiacyl before realizing the trap into which he'd stepped.

Farion looked at him calmly, and Kiacyl shut his mouth and turned away angrily.

"Then you would have been killed if you'd stayed?"

Kiacyl didn't answer. Farion waited, then spoke again.

"Your name is Kiacyl, isn't it?" he asked.

Kiacyl glanced up at him, still looking angry, but he said nothing.

"Kiacyl, have you thought about your future?" Farion asked gently. "The future is as sure as the past. We don't know what will happen or when, but we know that it will come to pass. The past is already gone and cannot be changed, but it is the past that builds the future. The future is not yet firmly set, but it will one day be the past and will not then be open to change either. If you pull yourself outside of time for a moment and look at the past, the present, and the future all as one single continuous picture, you may see what I mean. Who you are now and what you do now will shape what will be for you. Once an action is done, it cannot be undone. Your future will be what you make it to be. When it comes and goes and you look back on it as the past, will you then think that killing yourself will have been the best decision?

"Kiacyl, you may have a family of your own in the future. You may have a wife and children. Your children may have children, and their children may have children. Look at yourself in the future: you may be a husband, a father, a grandfather, if you allow that future to come to pass. Your children will be as sure then as you are now. If you kill yourself now, don't you see that all of your children will die before they are born? They are still in you, and if you die, they will die as potentials and imaginations only. If you do not live, your wife will never have her husband. Your wife of the future is the widow of the past. Your grandchildren and great-grandchildren will never be born. Think now, before you decide that you want to die: think of all that will never come to pass. Think of the family that you will never enjoy, the experiences that you will never experience, and the life that you will not have the opportunity to live."

Farion ceased, and Kiacyl stared at him in open astonishment. Never, in all the thirteen years that he'd been alive, had he heard such a strange and extraordinary argument. Step outside of time? It was true that what Farion had said at first made sense: the future was just as sure as the past, in that it was inevitable that the future would come to pass. No one could say what the future would be, but anyone could safely say that it would be. But the rest of the argument was so confusing! His wife? His children? He was only thirteen! How was he supposed to even imagine his future family, let alone shape his current actions around them? They didn't even exist! Or did they? If he did "step outside of time" and look at the future in the way that he would one day look at it, that is when it had become the past, didn't they already exist then? And did his grandchildren exist? And great-grandchildren?

Kiacyl closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his head. It was too much! He couldn't comprehend it, and he didn't want to try. He wouldn't think about it. He would go on as if he'd never heard this fantastic argument. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

Go on? Where? He realized that he couldn't go on now as if he'd never heard it. He had heard it. The future was there, staring him in the face. He had a family again. He had a wife somehow. He even had children, though he didn't understand how, seeing that he had them only in the future, which was somehow as real and sure now as the past. If he went back to Vukosava and was executed, he would be destroying any and every future open to him. He would be eliminating, once and for all, any opportunity of . . . of anything that was open to him. His offspring too; he would be killing them. His sons and grandsons. His father's grandsons.

His father's grandsons. Kiacyl felt a chill pass through him at the thought. He was the only son of his father, and if he killed himself then he would also be killing the future offspring of his father.

Kiacyl opened his eyes. Had his father seen this? Was this why he had sent him away? His father hadn't wanted his son to die; that much was obvious. But had he also not wanted his grandsons to die? Had he been thinking of them? Of his great-grandsons? Kandryl was a genius of geniuses. Why would he not have thought of this? He was saving not only his son but all of his line. He was saving the generations that would come after him. Kiacyl was sure of it now. He was the only hope for his father's line. He was now the only one left alive.

No, Kiacyl realized, he couldn't kill himself. He couldn't return to Vukosava, if there was a chance of life elsewhere. He would not murder the grandchildren of his father. Their shadows, if met with in another life, would not be able to say to him, "You did not give me a chance to live!" He would not intentionally cut off the line of his father. He would live, for as long as he could; for as long as life was granted to him.

Farion had sat silently, watching Kiacyl work though all of this in his mind. His face had grown softer as he watched, so that when Kiacyl looked up at last, he saw a normal Komislavian with a friendly, compassionate face looking down at him. Kiacyl frowned at first, suspicious again, but the frown did not stay long. He lowered his eyes and sighed softly, his face looking perfectly resigned.

"Would you take me back to Djaisiuk's room?" he asked calmly, standing up from the table. "I need to speak with him."

THE END

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 40 - Communications

2010-08-11T21:54:00.000-04:00

Eriane returned with the other boys in time to hear the end of Jaeger's explanation to Wysire of what Djaisiuk had been doing with the call device. There was a certain code, common among Komislavian hunters, that was communicated through tapping. Jaeger had known this code ever since he learned to read. It was apparent that Djaisiuk knew it too, though Jaeger had never known this before now. When Djaisiuk had called Eriane when Kiacyl attacked Wysire, he had been tapping the word: "Jaeger." Jaeger had responded and followed Eriane quickly to the room. Later, in the room, Djaisiuk had again used the call device to tap a message. These were what Jaeger had then spoken to Kiacyl.

When the other boys entered, Jaeger and Wysire moved back to make more space. Once everyone was in the room, they were very crowded, but no one seemed to mind. Jade, Creole, Christopher, and Detrin were on Djaisiuk's left side; Jaeger, Wysire, Leil, Eriane, and Faquire were on his right; and Cycil and Sandy stood at the foot of the bed. Eriane had warned them all to avoid touching the bed, so they sat or stood around the walls, being careful not to get too close to Djaisiuk. Djaisiuk had meantime begun entering data again, though he did look vaguely around at the boys as he did so. Wysire was ready to translate for him, but Djaisiuk did not stop, nor did he offer the parchment to him.

"Thank you for allowing us to invade your time of recovery, Djaisiuk," said Jade with a smile, once they were all fitted into the room. "We've all been wanting to come and see you. It really is so good to see you now, on your way to recovery, at least."

"Can you tell us now why they did this to you, and why they wanted to torture all of us too?" asked Sandy.

"We're on our way back home," said Jaeger, turning to Sandy. "Rules that may have been relaxed while we were captives ought to be back in place now. He doesn't have to tell us anything, and we're not to ask."

"But I'm not asking why he did something," protested Sandy. "I'm asked why they did something to him."

"Kandryl said that they were doing it because of something that Djaisiuk had done," Eriane explained to Sandy. "Asking him why they did this is the same as asking him what he did."

"Sandy's really just asking you to confirm or to deny our suspicions, Djaisiuk, although, as Jaeger said, you're certainly under no obligation to do so," said Creole. "We discussed it at length yesterday. The diplomat who came to fetch us and the one doctor who checked each of us were able to tell us a little, but they didn't say how they knew where to find us. I spoke a little with the mechanic, but he didn't know anything about it. He said that he had been working on a ship and suddenly received instructions to come immediately to this ship. They left barely ten minutes after he arrived. He wasn't even given time to pack anything."

"I talked with the pilot too," nodded Jaeger. "He said that four days ago, word came down from Taician that he wanted our fastest transport ship prepped and ready to fly within an hour. He wanted an experienced crew ready, though only a pilot, navigator, mechanic, and electrician were absolutely necessary. Oh, and also two doctors. The ship was to have additional supplies and sleeping quarters for a full IC crew, and all sorts of medical supplies were to be brought 'just in case,' he'd said."

"Yes, the doctor told me the same thing," said Christopher. "He said that he'd been in the middle of teaching a class when he received the call that said he had thirty minutes to pack for a ten day trip. He had no idea of what was happening until they were already underway."

"The diplomat seemed to know the most," said Jade. "Apparently most of the others got their information from him after they'd left. He said that Taician had summoned him personally and explained that we had been found on Vukosava and that he was sending him to go and fetch us. The diplomat said that by that time everyone had known that we had disappeared without a trace, and no one had any idea of where we were. He said that Taician told him that they had just discovered exactly where we were, but that he didn't have time then to explain how. He said that we were on Vukosava and that he had already sent coordinates down to the ship bay. He said that the ship had to go as quickly as possible and send no heralding message until they were just outside of Vukasovian space. At that time, he was just to say that he was here to fetch us, to give them our names and ages, and to say exactly where we were being held. He was also to say that we had proof of this on our planet. (That was so that they couldn't just blow up the ship and claim ignorance, I'd imagine.) So they came with all haste, obeyed Taician's orders to the letter, and received word back that we'd be handed over immediately, which we were."

"Taician had given the diplomat a list of our names and descriptions," said Eriane, "but he had had no idea what state we'd be in physically. That was why he wanted the extra doctor."

"So the question seems to be, how did Taician obtain this information?" asked Jaeger, looking at Djaisiuk now with a smile. "The only solution that we could reach was that you had somehow sent it, though how you could do that without detection is beyond even my imagination."

"The idea that you sent the message does seem to make the most sense," said Jade. "The only problem with that theory is that either Kandryl knew or he didn't know that you'd done it. He said that you'd done something and that he wanted to find out what it was, but if it was a message that you'd sent and he knew that much, surely he could have guessed the reason and the content. And if he didn't know you'd sent a message, what did he think that you had done? Or why did he think that you'd done anything?"

"Of course you don't have to answer any of this," said Creole quickly. "I think that we're all just wondering aloud. We're not really questioning you."

"And as long as we're not questioning," said Faquire, sounding somewhat sarcastic, "I hope that not one will mind if I don't ask why we have a Vukasovian aboard the ship with us."

For a moment, no one spoke. Most of the others looked uncomfortable with Faquire's tone of voice.

"I think that we'd all like to know why he's here," said Jade, "but that explanation may have to wait until we get back to Komislava."

"Of course," agreed Faquire, still sarcastically. "After all no one questions Djaisiuk."

"Faquire, you're sounding a little harsh," frowned Jaeger.

"Do you think that the Vukasovians are idiots?" demanded Faquire. "Creole told them on the day that we landed that we don't question Djaisiuk. If they wanted to place a plant among us, of course Djaisiuk would be the one to use."

"The couldn't make Djaisiuk do something that he didn't want to do!" exclaimed Leil, looking appalled at Faquire's insinuations. "And Djaisiuk wouldn't do anything without good reason."

"Djaisiuk isn't well," retorted Faquire. "I think that we can all see that the Vukasovians did a lot to him. Why isn't it possible that they did something to his mind too? They used a mind altering drug on me; why not on Djaisiuk? How can we know that he brought that Vukasovian with us of his own free will? How do we even know that he's still the same person inside?"

"Faquire--" began Jade, but Faquire interrupted.

"Look, am I the only one who is bothered by this?" asked Faquire, looking around at all of them. "Given the fact that Djaisiuk was away from all of us for so long -- you all said that you only saw him twice in the nearly twenty days that we were there -- how can we be sure that they haven't altered his mind? That Vukasovian was with him every minute of every day; the only news that you even had of Djaisiuk -- so you've said -- came through him. Even when I was with the two of them, Djaisiuk never spoke to me or even looked at me. He couldn't have acted more as if he was being controlled by them if he had tried! Am I the only one who's not comfortable trusting him unquestioningly, seeing that he actually brought one of our enemies with us?"

The other boys all looked at him silently, some glancing at one another too. Finally, Jaeger took a deep breath and spoke.

"Yes, Faquire," he said softly. "I think that you are."

"You said that they did something to your mind," said Leil, frowning at Faquire now. "How do we know that you aren't being this way to Djaisiuk because of that?"

Faquire glared at Leil for a moment but didn't speak.

"Faquire," began Wysire gently. "We know that it must--"

"Don't patronize me!" snapped Faquire. Glancing around at the others, he said, "If you all believe in him, then so be it. I won't say anything more."

The others looked at each other again, the two youngest looking mostly at Wysire. Wysire looked only at Faquire, but then lowered his own eyes without speaking. Eriane stepped forward.

"This stress isn't good for Djaisiuk," he said. "He needs peace right now. If we want to continue this conversation in any shape or form, I suggest that we move it to another room."

Djaisiuk had closed his eyes some time earlier, though he had continued to enter data into the parchment. When Eriane finished speaking, however, he opened his eyes and turned his head slightly to face him.

"No," he rasped painfully.

Everyone turned to look at him in surprise. Eriane looked a little uncomfortable.

"Djaisiuk, please," he said. "You need your rest."

Djaisiuk said nothing at first. He looked Eriane in the eye and continued typing. A moment or two passed in silence. Djaisiuk then stopped, disconnected the right-hand extension, lifted the parchment, and handed it to Jaeger who stood near his right hand. Jaeger looked a little surprised. He glanced down at the words entered and read a little.

"Would you like me to read this aloud?" he asked hesitantly, looking up at Djaisiuk again.

Djaisiuk nodded once, closing his eyes again. All of the boys looked at Jaeger expectantly, so Jaeger cleared his throat and began.

"It begins, 'I must apologize for taking this means of communicating with all of you. To speak aloud all that I would like to say would be more than painful to me; it would be detrimental. Eriane would doubtless disallow it regardless.'"

Eriane chuckled. "He's correct there," he murmured.

"'Even so,'" continued Jaeger, "'I wish to offer some explanation regarding certain actions of mine. By way of explanation, I must note that Kandryl never trusted me, simply because of my great intellect, the fact of which was made available to him through my IC School data chip. If I had been perfectly compliant, he would have trusted me less. Hence, I maintained my normal silence, after a brief conversation on the first night. He desired absolute submission from me, but this I could not and would not give. From the start, he attempted to break my will, and this was why I was eventually subjected to the small device which so upset Eriane that day, early in our capture. It was for this reason (among others) that I could not seek your presence earlier than when I did so: if Kandryl had thought that I cared for any of you, he would doubtless have used one or more of you against me, probably in ways that would have been severely uncomfortable if not damaging to yourselves."

"You could have used me!" exclaimed Creole. "If there had been a way to lighten your own load by shifting it onto me, you would have been welcome to do so!"

"And how would he have done that?" asked Jaeger, looking amused. "I agree with you, and I say that he would have been welcome to use me as well, but if he had suddenly expressed a wish to see us unharmed, then I would think that the Vukasovians would have been suspicious."

Creole reluctantly conceded the point, and Jaeger continued.

"'Another reason,'" Jaeger read, "'was that every spare moment was required for the timely completion of my plan of escape, begun before we first left the ship. In the beginning, I did not know exactly how much time we would have; I did not know how long Creole, Christopher, and Faquire would be kept alive. In my position on Vukosava, I was able to determine that our presence there was the second phase of a grand experiment. Kandryl wished to strengthen his own people at the expense of ours: specifically, he would capture groups from the IC school and absorb them into Vukasovian culture, thus weakening our race while fortifying his own.'"

Sandy gasped, and the others looked at Jaeger in horror.

"You mean that he was going to capture more groups?" asked Sandy.

Then how do we know that they won't just try again with another group, if that's what they meant to do all along?" asked Cycil.

"Given that it failed this time, I doubt that they'll take that risk," answered Jade.

"'Any who refused to serve them would be kept for experimental purposes,'" continued Jaeger, "'but their lives would not be considered especially valuable. Every moment spent on Vukosava was a continued danger to the ultimate health -- both mental as well as physical -- of Creole, Christopher, and Faquire.'"

"I hope that you didn't practically kill yourself just to save the three of us from a little damage," said Christopher, looking at Djaisiuk.

"If you say that you did," said Creole, "then you shall severely upset my equanimity."

Djaisiuk still lay with his eyes closed. He didn't move or speak when they addressed him, so Jaeger again continued.

"The plan itself was simple, though the execution thereof was not. The experiment would have been universally condemned, were it made known, hence knowledge and proof of its existence in the hands of an outside source were all that would be required to ensure its end. Through somewhat complicated means, I was able to send a message to our people nearly three weeks after our capture. The message contained the information; the message itself -- sent in my own personal code and with my signature -- was the proof. This would be sufficient for our people to then be able to come and retrieve us. The true difficulty lay in being able to send the message without detection, either before, during, or after. The explanation of how it was done would take far more time and energy than I am willing to invest for such a purpose at this time.'"

"Yes, indeed!" smiled Eriane. "Had I known how much mental energy you were putting into this message alone, I might have tried to prevent it. As much as I'd like my own curiosity appeased, it isn't worth delaying your recovery."

"'It was the day that the message was to be sent that I came to see all of you,'" continued Jaeger, "'and I realize now that that was a mistake. I had hoped that Kandryl would never discover what I had done, but, two days after, I found that he had done so, though only in part. I know not how much he knew nor how much he guessed. He knew at least that I had performed some significant action without orders, but he could not have known what. He questioned me, but I refused to explain my actions. To tell him what I'd done and to give him warning would only have given him time to kill us all and to destroy all evidence of our ever having been there before our people could arrive."

"I see now why you wouldn't tell him, even when he wanted to torture all of us," said Jade. "It would have meant instant death for all of us."

"But what if he had found out anyway?!" cried Sandy. "What then?"

"That kind of speculation is pointless, Sandy," said Creole gently. "He didn't find out, so there's no reason to dwell on what-if's."

"Besides which, it's pretty obvious that Djaisiuk did a very good job of covering his tracks," said Wysire. "I'm sure that if Kandryl could have found out in some way other than torturing Djaisiuk for the information, he would have done so."

"'I never wanted any of you to be involved,'" continued Jaeger. "'I believe now that by my going to you, I awakened the possibility, at least, in Kandryl's mind of an emotional tie between myself and all of you. This was why he attempted to draw the information from me by torturing you. Had I maintained my distance from you, perhaps you would have been spared.'"

Oh, stop!" exclaimed Creole. "If he continues like this, just skip that part, Jaeger." Turning to Djaisiuk (whose eyes were still shut), he continued, "We're all a group, aren't we? If one suffers, all of us do. There was no reason why you should have borne all of this alone. You were doing it for us as well as yourself; it was right that we should have helped, if we could."

"I agree with Creole, Djaisiuk, at least for my part," said Jaeger. "I appreciate your compassion, but for those of us who are able to bear it, I'm sure that we would have willingly shared in your torment, especially considering that it was all because of what you did for us."

Djaisiuk still did not respond, so Jaeger turned back to the parchment.

"He says that he's sorry about it all, Creole," said Jaeger with a smile. "May I read that part, or shall I skip ahead?"

"I'd rather not hear it," said Creole. "Does anyone object?"

Most of the others shook their heads, some smiling.

"Kandryl never got past Jade, anyway," smiled Detrin. "You two and Creole are the only ones who were really hurt."

Wysire glanced at Eriane when Detrin said this, but Eriane returned the look with a short shake of the head. Neither spoke.

"Let's see," said Jaeger, looking down at the parchment again and reading forward. "I'll summarize it: he says that he feels bad asking this, given what he put us through, but that he has a request to make of all of us."

"Granted!" exclaimed Creole. "I don't care what it is; for my part, I say 'yes'."

"'This request could be made on my authority,'" said Jaeger, reading aloud again, '"but I will not do so; I will defend it first. Understand that Vukasovian law is brutal: Kandryl committed a great crime against his own people, not in kidnapping all of us, but rather in being caught. His actions caused embarrassment to his planet's political government, and for this there can be no forgiveness. His punishment will be death. Indeed, he is probably dead already. Had I not interfered, he would not have died alone. This leads now to my request, and it is tied to Kandryl as well, for it is the request that he came to make of me just before we left.'"

"What!?" exclaimed Faquire. "He'd ask us to accede to a request made by Kandryl? I don't think that anyone could doubt that he'd been mentally altered after that!"

"Faquire!" exclaimed Wysire. "You haven't even heard what it is."

"I don't have to hear it," snorted Faquire. "If Kandryl made it, then I say 'denied' as quickly as Creole said 'granted'!"

"I think that you'll want to hear it first," said Jaeger quietly, his eyes widening as he read. "'In my research for sending the message, I had discovered -- quite by accident -- that Kandryl had a son who was of little or no value to the Vukasovians; he was kept alive for his father's sake. Now that Kandryl was to be executed, the Vukasovians would have killed the son as well. Kandryl came to me to ask me to--"

"Not Kiacyl!" exclaimed Cycil, interrupting Jaeger. "You're not going to say that Kiacyl is Kandryl's son, are you?!"

"'To save the life of his son, Kiacyl,'" continued Jaeger. "'He knew that--'"

"Wait, wait!" exclaimed Eriane, holding up his hands. "Slow down. Kandryl was Kiacyl's father?"

"Yes, hold a moment, Jaeger, please," agreed Jade. "I think that we'll all need a moment to digest this."

"So that's why he's here," murmured Christopher.

"I don't need time to digest it," said Faquire in a low voice, speaking through clenched teeth. "And if the request is what I now guess it to be, then I say 'denied' all the more emphatically!"

The other boys looked at Faquire in surprise. Wysire opened his mouth, but then closed it again without speaking. After waiting a short moment, Jaeger turned back to the parchment and continued.

"'He' -- that's still Kandryl -- 'knew that sending Kiacyl away from Vukosava would be the only way to keep him alive, and he knew that we would be the only ones who could do that. I agreed to take him and to keep him safe. This is where I must make a difficult request of all of you: I ask that you assist me regarding him. Kiacyl is frightened and confused, and this in a Vukasovian tends quickly toward anger; his father is dead, and he is now forever cut off from his own people. He is coming to live among a race which he has been taught to hate. His acclimation will be very, very difficult. At this time, mental damage will be far easier to effect than physical, and it will likewise take far longer to heal. I ask that you treat him with kindness, though not with condescension; gentleness, but not compassion. He will likely react with vehemence toward everyone and everything for some time. I ask that any anger that you bear toward Kandryl, toward the Vukasovians, or even toward Kiacyl himself be overlooked for my sake. If ever you trusted me, if ever you had reason to follow me, I ask you to do so now.'"

Jaeger slowly lowered the parchment.

"That's all," said he quietly.

For a long moment there was complete silence in the room.

"Wow," breathed Detrin, shaking his head.

"It's a lot to absorb," agreed Wysire quietly.

"Well, I realize now that I oughtn't to have spoken so hastily earlier," said Creole with half a smile. "Even so, who could refuse a request like that? I still say, 'granted,' and I'll do all that I can to help."

"I say the same, Djaisiuk," said Jaeger, looking at Djaisiuk. "You didn't even have to appeal to your own trustworthiness; for my part, his position alone is worthy of our pity."

Eriane shook his head, frowning in confusion. "I just can't believe it," he said. "I mean, I do believe it, but I just can't wrap my mind around it. Why would Kandryl send him with us? He hated us, or so I thought."

"He wanted to save Kiacyl's life," said Jade. "Djaisiuk said so. Or rather, he said that Kandryl said so."

"This explains a lot to me," nodded Jaeger. "I could tell that it was something very important about which he'd come to talk with Djaisiuk, there, just before we left, but I couldn't imagine what it was. This makes sense."

"It doesn't make any sense to me," said Eriane. "Why would he think that Kiacyl would even be safe with us? Didn't he suppose that we might kill him out of anger, knowing that he was his son?"

"We'd never do that!" exclaimed Sandy and Cycil together, both looking horrified.

"I know that we'd never do it," Eriane quickly assured them. "I'm very glad that Djaisiuk agreed to help him, and that he was able to succeed; I think that it's wonderful that he's able to come back with us rather than die at the hands of his own people. I'm just saying that it seems like Kandryl, being a Vukasovian and thinking like one, wouldn't know that."

"Oh, he understood Komislavians a lot better than you'd think," said Wysire. "I think that he knew how we'd respond. And he knew that most of us had already started making friends with Kiacyl. We wouldn't be able to hurt him, and he knew that."

"And we wouldn't want to!" insisted Sandy.

"Of course we wouldn't want to," said Jaeger. "We're only speculating on what Kandryl might have thought."

"But, as Creole said earlier, Jaeger, such speculation is useless," said Faquire sharply. "That's all in the past. We now have all of us here, safely on our way back to Komislava, but with a Vukasovian among us! And now we find that he's the son of one of the most cruel, heartless, and vicious humans in the universe at that!"

"I've met at least one worse," muttered Eriane quietly.

"Faquire, didn't you hear Djaisiuk's request?" asked Jaeger.

"I heard it. And if he thinks that I'm going to be kind to a Vukasovian, I say that he's lost too much blood to think straight!"

"That's enough," said Eriane firmly, stepping forward again from where he'd been leaning against the wall. "Djaisiuk has had more than enough excitement for one day. If you're going to be criticizing him like this, Faquire, then we all need to leave. He needs his rest."

When Eriane spoke thus of him, Djaisiuk opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. He took a breath and seemed about to speak, but then merely exhaled softly, saying nothing. Jaeger stepped forward also.

"I say granted most willingly, Djaisiuk," he said. "I'll help in any way that I can."

"As will I," said Christopher. "I don't know him, but now I'm excited to learn more about him."

"My skills are always at your service," smiled Wysire, "regardless of a person's race."

The other boys too -- all except Faquire -- agreed to help Djaisiuk in any way that they could regarding Kiacyl. Some were more hesitant than others, but all agreed that they were glad that Djaisiuk had been able to save him. Creole went so far as to apologize for how he'd treated Kiacyl on Vukosava and said that he hoped that Kiacyl wouldn't hold it against him.

At last, they all left the room, Eriane alone remaining behind to run a quick scan. Djaisiuk closed his eyes again, and the scan was quickly completed. Eriane then suggested that Djaisiuk try to get some sleep. He then left the room himself, turning out the light as he went. Once they were all gone, Djaisiuk followed the doctor's orders willingly and did proceed to promptly fall asleep.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 39 - A Difficult Revelation

2010-08-10T21:39:00.004-04:00

When Djaisiuk awoke, he could feel that he was back in familiar surroundings even before he opened his eyes. The soft bed beneath him as well as the coverlet over him were distinctly Komislavian in feel. The clothes he was now wearing had the familiar feel of Komislavian-made cloth. Even the air smelt like home. He opened his eyes and looked up at the creamy off-white ceiling of a small room on a Komislavian ship.

"Well, it's about time," came a sharp, Vukasovian voice from beside him. "I've only been waiting here for three days."

For the briefest moment, Djaisiuk considered closing his eyes again in the hopes that the voice might leave with his sight. He thought better of this however and merely took a careful breath and turned his head to the left. There sat Kiacyl, watching him with a dark expression. Djaisiuk blinked but said nothing.

"Your friend Eriane said that I was to call him when you woke," said Kiacyl. "But I have a question I want answered first."

Djaisiuk did close his eyes then. He turned his head again and took another careful breath. He wanted to breathe deeply, but his lungs still hurt him. It was difficult, lying here, scarcely able to move and unable to breathe as he would like. He knew that he could call Eriane himself; a little exploration with his right hand showed that a call device had been placed there, doubtless for this purpose. He knew though that it would be best to at least attempt to pacify Kiacyl first.

"I know that you don't like to talk," continued Kiacyl, "but I have only one question: what do you intend to do with me?"

Djaisiuk didn't move or open his eyes. Only one question, yes, but what a question! The answer was not going to be easy. Djaisiuk himself had not yet had time or energy to work out the intricacies of the answer. And he doubted very much whether Kiacyl would be satisfied with an abbreviated or incomplete answer.

"You will--" Djaisiuk began, but he broke off with a cough and a gasp, both stifled as well as he was able. He always felt pain when speaking, even on the best days, but today was well beyond the normal discomfiture; it was torture anew. Some of Drayl's words from when they had inflicted these injuries on his lungs came back to his mind. Drayl had mocked Djaisiuk, saying that he would not speak when ordered to do so, and now they would make it so that he was practically incapable of doing so. If he wished to speak, it would be very difficult, but Drayl had assured him that he would soon accept even this pain, rather than continue with what they would do to him. Djaisiuk had little doubt that Eriane had done some work on his lungs, particularly if they had truly been on the ship for three days now, but speech was still a torture. He knew that he might be able to speak a sentence or two before the pain overcame him entirely, but that would be insufficient.

"Well?" asked Kiacyl.

Well, there was no longer any choice. Djaisiuk pressed the call device. He wished that he could answer Kiacyl's question, but he couldn't, or at least not without help.

Just as Kiacyl was emitting a frustrated sigh, apparently about to speak again, the door opened, and Eriane entered.

"Hello, Djaisiuk," smiled Eriane, coming forward. "It's good to see you awake finally. How are you feeling?"

Djaisiuk opened his mouth, but no words came.

"Oh! No, don't try to speak, Djaisiuk," exclaimed Eriane quickly. "I'm sorry; I suppose that I shouldn't have asked you that. I wasn't thinking. You mustn't try to speak for a while yet. Here; I brought this for you." He opened a drawer of the small bureau in the room and withdrew a parchment with a right-hand extension. This he laid on the bed, placing the extension in Djaisiuk's right hand. "There," he said. "Now, can you use this without being able to see it?"

Djaisiuk moved his fingers over the extension. "Yes," he typed.

Eriane smiled. "Wonderful. Now, we've done a lot of work on you, and you'll probably be feeling it all over. I'm afraid that you're not going to be able to move around much for quite a while. In fact, the longer you can lie still, the better. I know that it can't be very enjoyable, but it's best for now. But tell me, are you feeling alright? That is, do you think that you'll be alright without more medication for a time?"

Djaisiuk didn't reply. He lay still, looking up at the ceiling.

"Perhaps I should rephrase that," smiled Eriane. "Are you feeling any particularly acute pain anywhere that you'd like me to try to relieve?"

Djaisiuk's fingers again moved. "My chest," he typed.

Eriane grimaced. "If you mean the exterior burns, then I can do something for that, though the last medication that we gave you really should still be working there. If you mean your lungs, then that's a little more difficult. I know that they must be causing you a fair bit of pain, especially considering the constant use that they're getting as you breathe, but I'm afraid that the only way I can help you there is with an anesthetic that will put you to sleep again. If you're alright with that, I'll be happy to do it, but if you'd rather be awake for a bit yet, then I'm afraid that there's nothing I can do for that pain."

He looked at Djaisiuk expectantly and waited.

"No," typed Djaisiuk after a moment. "I prefer to remain conscious."

Eriane again smiled. "I'm so glad that you are doing so well. I know that it must not feel like it, but you really are recovering nicely so far. Is there anything else that I can do?"

Djaisiuk considered. "I may need Wysire," he typed. "If I call you, would you send him?"

"Of course," replied Eriane with some surprise. "I can call him now, if you want."

"No. Only if I call you again."

"Alright. Will you want me also?"

"No. Thank you."

Eriane nodded, still looking a little surprised. "I . . . suppose I'll leave you then," he said. He hesitated. "Just let me know if you need anything."

Djaisiuk typed nothing, so Eriane simply nodded once to Kiacyl and left. Kiacyl had said nothing while Eriane was there, and he continued to sit silently, glowering at the wall, after the other was gone. Djaisiuk took advantage of Kiacyl's silence to begin typing again. When Kiacyl turned to him, Djaisiuk was prepared.

"Well?" asked Kiacyl sharply. "Are you going to answer me?"

Without a word, Djaisiuk disconnected the extension, lifted the parchment, and handed it to Kiacyl. The latter accepted it with a frown and looked at it.

"I cannot speak aloud to answer you," he read silently, "but I am willing to type what I can to--"

"What is this?" demanded Kiacyl, looking up again. "Do you expect me to speak to a data-entry device?" He threw the parchment against the wall angrily. Leaning forward over Djaisiuk and resting his hands on the bed, he continued, "I'm not some imbecile or laborer who takes instructions that way. I want an answer, and I want it from you, not from a machine!"

Djaisiuk cringed as Kiacyl's left wrist brushed again his own left arm. Noticing this, Kiacyl lifted his hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said sarcastically. "Does that hurt?"

Kiacyl laid his hand across Djaisiuk's and pressed down. Djaisiuk's face contorted somewhat with the pain, but he did not gasp. Instead, he grasped the call device, pressing the button firmly and not letting go.

"I asked you a question, Komislavian," snapped Kiacyl, still pressing his hand against Djaisiuk's, "and I'm waiting for an answer."

The door opened, and Kiacyl started back from the bed as Wysire entered. The latter seemed not to notice Kiacyl's expression, and Kiacyl was quick to hide it. Wysire simply stepped forward to the bed.

"Hello, Djaisiuk," he said. "Eriane said that you wanted to see me."

Djaisiuk lifted the parchment extension, then pointed to the wall where Kiacyl had thrown the parchment. Wysire quickly understood, and he fetched the device and reconnected it. Djaisiuk then began typing again.

"I wish to speak with Kiacyl," he typed, "but he is not willing to read what I type, and I cannot speak. Will you speak to him what I tell you to say?"

Wysire, reading the words, looked at Djaisiuk with some surprise. "Yes," he said. "Yes, of course, if that's what you want."

Djaisiuk seemed to relax somewhat then. He closed his eyes again and continued to type.

"Tell him: the answer you seek is difficult and lengthy. I can attempt to give it here, but it may not be complete. If you want a complete answer, you will need to wait until we've reached Komislava."

Wysire looked up at Kiacyl and repeated what Djaisiuk had typed. Kiacyl sneered.

"I suppose I should have expected that," he said. He shrugged. "I don't know why I'm surprised."

"Djaisiuk says that it's difficult for him to plan now," said Wysire, glancing from the parchment to Kiacyl and back. "He says that he doesn't want to make a rash decision in his condition."

"And killing me quickly would be rash?"

Wysire blinked in surprise, and Djaisiuk opened his eyes. After a short, uncomfortable moment, Djaisiuk typed again.

"Why do you think you are here?" asked Wysire, translating again.

"He knows why I'm here," snapped Kiacyl, indicating Djaisiuk with a nod of the head. "Ask him."

"He does know why you're here, but he says that apparently you don't."

Kiacyl frowned. "Why does he think that I'm here?"

Wysire was not fully able to hide his own surprise, though he obviously tried, as he translated: "You're coming with us to Komislava to live there."

Kiacyl looked at him incredulously. "No, I'm not," he retorted. "That's ridiculous!"

"Do you expect us to kill you?"

Kiacyl closed his mouth. Still looking upset but speaking more calmly now, he said, "I don't expect you to keep me alive."

"He sent you with us to save your life."

Kiacyl didn't answer. He continued to look at Wysire darkly.

"He didn't want you to die with him."

Kiacyl blinked, surprise growing in his expression. "What did you say?" he asked hoarsely.

Wysire looked at Djaisiuk, but the latter typed no more, so Wysire simply repeated the last sentence typed. "He didn't want you to die with him."

Kiacyl seemed to struggle to keep his expression calm. "You're lying," he said. "I don't believe you."

Wysire looked from Kiacyl to Djaisiuk again, waiting. At last, Djaisiuk's fingers began to move.

"Why else would he have sent you with us?"

"He sent me with Djaisiuk."

"He knew that Djaisiuk was the only one who could save your life."

"You're lying!" Kiacyl's fists clenched and unclenched as he glared at Wysire.

"Kiacyl, he loved you," translated Wysire gently.

At that, Kiacyl's restraint gave way. He leaped around the bed with an expression of fury, and Wysire started back, throwing up his own hands to defend himself as Kiacyl struck out at him. Djaisiuk had dropped the extension and grasped the call device, and his finger beat out a quick rhythm on it.

"Kiacyl, wait!" exclaimed Wysire. "Please, I don't even know what you two are talking about."

Kiacyl didn't seem to hear. He attacked Wysire with ferocity, striking with all his might. Fortunately for Wysire, the door opened suddenly, and Eriane and Jaeger both entered. Jaeger leapt forward and caught hold of Kiacyl, holding him back from Wysire, while Eriane quickly moved to make sure that Wysire was alright.

"What's going on here?" asked Jaeger. "Pull yourself together."

"Wysire, are you alright?" asked Eriane.

"If you ever say that again, I'll kill you!" screamed Kiacyl, still looking only at Wysire.

Jaeger and Eriane both looked at Kiacyl and Wysire in surprise, but Wysire only returned their gazes with a look of confusion.

"Kiacyl, I'm only translating," said Wysire gently. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"I don't care!"

Djaisiuk's fingers beat another pattern on the call device, and Eriane's caller beeped in sequence, as Kiacyl struggled to free himself from Jaeger's grasp.

"He's dead," said Jaeger suddenly. "Kiacyl, he's dead."

Kiacyl froze. Jaeger still held him, but he no longer struggled.

"What?" he asked quietly.

"Djaisiuk says he's dead," repeated Jaeger.

Eriane and Wysire now looked at Jaeger questioningly, but Jaeger didn't look at them. Kiacyl slowly straightened himself, pulling his arms from Jaeger's grasp. Jaeger let him go without a fight. Kiacyl then walked calmly to the medical bed and looked down at Djaisiuk. Djaisiuk turned his face to look Kiacyl in the eye.

"I want to go back to Vukosava," said Kiacyl.

Djaisiuk reached for the parchment, but Kiacyl snatched it away and threw it against the wall. Eriane started forward, but then paused as neither Djaisiuk nor Kiacyl looked up. Djaisiuk again grasped the call device, pressing the button again and again as Eriane's caller continued to sound. Eriane again looked at Djaisiuk in confusion, but then Jaeger spoke.

"They'll kill you too," he said.

"I don't care," said Kiacyl between clenched teeth. "I won't go with you."

Djaisiuk continued to look up at him, but he did not now move.

"Kidnapping is an interplanetary offense," sneered Kiacyl, still speaking to Djaisiuk. "And if you don't take me back to Vukosava, I'll let it be known that you kidnapped me."

Djaisiuk still did not react. Kiacyl looked down at him for a moment longer, then turned and walked out of the room.

"Djaisiuk, would you like for me to go after him?" asked Wysire.

Djaisiuk pointed to where the parchment had been thrown, and Jaeger quickly fetched it and gave it to him. Djaisiuk then typed again.

"I want to speak with all of our group," he typed. "Would you call them?"

Wysire read it in surprise, then handed the parchment to Eriane.

"Doctor?" he asked.

"Djaisiuk, you don't need this much excitement," said Eriane after reading the parchment. "Please, you need your rest. Can't this wait?"

Djaisiuk seemed to consider for a moment. "I would prefer to speak with them now," he typed.

Eriane still looked hesitant, but he nodded. "Alright," he said. "If you're sure that that's what you want. I'll call them."

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 38 - Meals

2010-08-10T20:51:00.001-04:00

Walking out of the medical room, Eriane almost started when he saw Kiacyl sitting on a long cushioned bench, still waiting. The latter turned to look at him as Eriane entered the room, but he said nothing.

"Oh, Kiacyl!" Eriane exclaimed. "Have you been sitting here all this time? I'm so sorry! I'd completely forgotten about you. You must be famished. I'm just going to get something to eat. Would you like to come?"

Without waiting for a proper answer, Eriane turned and walked out of this next room and into the long hall of the ship. Had he not been so completely absorbed in his own thoughts, he might have noticed that Kiacyl did not follow him. Kiacyl had started to follow him but had paused at the entrance to the hallway out of the room. He looked back towards the medical room wherein lay Djaisiuk and hesitated. He had stood thus for a moment in apparent uncertainty, but Eriane had continued down the hall unconcerned. Finally, Kiacyl had sighed, turned back into the room, and seated himself again in the same place where he had been sitting for the last several hours.

Eriane, as has been mentioned, was entirely absorbed in his own thoughts and continued down the hall, looking neither left nor right, and probably seeing nothing at all. When he reached the small sitting room wherein most of the other boys were located, they all jumped up to greet him. Faquire alone walked quickly past him and into the next room.

"Eriane, how is he?" asked Sandy quickly. "Is he going to be alright?"

"How are you, rather?" asked Jade. "You look ready to collapse."

Eriane gave a short laugh. "I'm a little tired, yes," he said. "But I'll be alright. And Djaisiuk will too, Sandy."

"Were you able to fix him up then?" asked Cycil.

Eriane did not answer at first, but then said simply, "We'll see."

"Yes, we'll see in time," called Faquire, leaning out of the next room, "but for now you come in here and eat something. You should know better than to go for so long without food, especially after all of the stress that you've been under lately. If it was anything less urgent that you'd been doing, I'd have come and drug you away by force."

Eriane smiled and followed Faquire into the eating room of the ship where the latter was busily putting together a small meal for him.

"I've prepared something that should help to restore all of the energy that you've been expending in working too hard as well as to help begin cleaning all of that Vukasovian poison out of your system," said Faquire, grimacing at the end of the statement. "I expect us both to be very busy for the next few days, until everyone has fully recovered physically."

"Not all of the food was bad," called Jaeger teasingly. "Some of it was actually very tasty."

"As if that had anything to do with its health value," Faquire snapped back. "Don't try to talk to me about food. I hope that I never have to eat anything from another planet again, and I'm shocked that you have anything good to say about . . . about that food!"

"Faquire, he's only teasing," said Jade.

"You might just as well tease about eating dirt!" Faquire said forcefully. "There's nothing funny about Vukasovian food."

"You're not angry with me, are you Faquire?" asked Jaeger in a friendly manner, standing now at the door and looking into the room.

"No, of course not," said Faquire, his voice a bit less sharp now. "I'm disgusted, and I think that I might be sick, but I'm not angry with you." Now it was his turn to smile.

Jaeger returned the smile and turned again to leave the room. He returned to the chair on which he had been lounging, sitting at such an angle as to be able to see Eriane through the open door connecting the two rooms. Eriane had taken little note of the conversation beyond the beginning and sat now, slowly eating his meal, staring off into space all the while.

"Eriane, have you any idea why Djaisiuk brought along Kiacyl?" called Jade. "We were discussing it earlier, and it doesn't seem to make--"

"Oh, Kiacyl!" exclaimed Eriane, jumping to his feet. "I forgot about him. Again! Where is he?"

"He went back with you and Djaisiuk," said Jaeger, rising quickly to his feet also. "Do you mean to say that you don't know where he is?"

"No, no, I think that I know where he is," Eriane answered quickly. "That is to say, I know where he was. He was waiting in the next room to the medical room for all of the time that we were working on Djaisiuk. I'd forgotten about him until I came out to get something to eat. Oh, and I was supposed to find the other doctor, Cieru. I'd forgotten about that too!"

"The other doctor's busy now," said Faquire. "He's doing something with Christopher, but I imagine he'll be done soon."

"I was supposed to send him back to help Farion with Djaisiuk as soon as he was finished. Would you tell him, if you see him when he comes out?" asked Eriane.

Faquire nodded in the affirmative, and Jaeger stepped forward.

"What about Kiacyl?" he asked. "Where is he, and what is he doing?"

"He's probably just sitting there, waiting," answered Eriane. "He sat there quietly all through the time that we were working, and he was still there when I came out. I told him that he could come with me to get something to eat, as I imagined that he must be very hungry by now, but apparently he didn't follow. I should go and see if he's alright."

Faquire and Jaeger interjected at the same time.

"No you don't!" exclaimed Faquire. "You sit right there and finish your meal. Someone else will go and check on him."

"I'll go, Eriane," offered Jaeger. "I wouldn't mind a chance to talk with him anyway." He started to turn away, then turned back and looked at Faquire. "Do you think that I ought to bring a meal with me in case he doesn't want to come out here? As Eriane said, he's probably very hungry by now."

"Yes," sighed Faquire. "I suppose that even the Vukasovians need to eat. I'll fix something and bring it in to you if you're not back soon."

Jaeger left, and Eriane looked up at Faquire reproachfully as the latter moved about preparing another meal.

"Faquire, you really shouldn't speak about him like that," said Eriane. "He's a human being, just like you or me."

"He's a Vukasovian," Faquire replied coldly. "And I've little reason to have any sympathy for one of them for a while."

"Faquire, you don't even know him!"

"And I don't want to either! Why is he even here? What reason can he possibly have for coming back with us to Komislava? Does he not hate our race in the same way that the rest of his people do?"

"No, I don't think that he does," replied Eriane gently. "I think that he considers us to be below himself, but I don't think that he hates us. Haven't the other boys told you about him?"

Faquire shook his head, looking still half-angry as he continued to work and not looking at Eriane as he spoke. "No, I didn't want to hear about it," he said. "They started to talk about him, and I left to come in here to fix the evening meal. It seems that I'm the only one who's never spoken with him, though we certainly spent enough time in each other's company in Djaisiuk's workroom!"

"He came to see you twice before that, but it was while you were unconscious from that strange drug," said Eriane.

Faquire shuddered visibly at the reminder. "I'd really rather forget that incident entirely, if I can," he said. Turning to face Eriane, he continued, "With memories like that, how can you possibly expect me to hold any feelings for him or his people but contempt and disgust?"

Eriane didn't answer immediately. "That's probably a question better suited for Wysire," he said. "But I will say this, at least: he's not his people, though he is one of them. You can't hold him responsible for their actions."

Faquire shook his head again and turned back to his work. "I still don't understand why he's even here," he said. "But, so long as he is, I'll see to it that he's fed properly. He'll go home healthier than he came, if I have anything to do with it. I'll not have them say that there's anything wrong with our food."

"Or it's preparers?" asked Eriane with a smile, but Faquire only frowned at this remark.

"I'm not seeking my own glory," he said sharply. "I'm trying to stand up for our people and means."

Eriane looked at him with a concerned expression. "Faquire, you really need to talk to Wysire," he said softly.

"I know that!" snapped Faquire. He stopped for a moment and closed his eyes, leaning forward on the counter at which he was working. He then raised his head and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Eriane," he said at last. "I know that I still hold a lot of anger toward those people and that it's spilling out into everything else that I say. I know that I need to work through it, but it'll take a lot of time to do that. I'm trying hard to just keep functioning as normal for now."

Faquire finished preparing the meal in silence, then lifted the covered dish to carry it out of the room. "Once we're home, things will be easier," he said.

"Yes," agreed Eriane quietly. "They will."

* * * * * * *

Jaeger had gone to the "medical waiting room," as it was affectionately called by the non-medical members of the crew, and had found Kiacyl still sitting in the same place in which he had been left. Kiacyl glanced up at Jaeger as he entered, but did not move otherwise.

"Hello," said Jaeger, leaning against the doorway.

Kiacyl didn't reply, but instead lowered his eyes again to stare wearily at the floor. Jaeger cocked his head to one side.

"Don't tell me that Djaisiuk is starting to wear off on you," he said with half a smile.

Kiacyl looked up again with a distinctively Vukasovian sneer of derision, a look that had never crossed Djaisiuk's face. Having thus expressed his opinion of Jaeger's comment, Kiacyl again looked down, still without having said anything.

"Is there some reason that you're staying in here?" continued Jaeger unperturbed. "You're more than welcome to join all of us out there in the main room. We're just relaxing at the moment, and I'm sure that you must be hungry."

Kiacyl seemed to consider for a moment, then glanced towards the door of the medical room wherein the older doctor was still working on Djaisiuk.

"Oh, he's under an anesthetic," said Jaeger. "He won't be waking up for quite a while yet. Are you waiting for him?"

Kiacyl turned away, still not looking at Jaeger.

"Is there some reason why you suddenly won't talk to me?" asked Jaeger.

Kiacyl looked up at him again for a moment, and a look of minor frustration crossed his face. This was quickly hidden, however, and he lowered his eyes again.

Jaeger stepped into the room and sat down beside Kiacyl. The latter didn't look at him.

"You're tired, aren't you?" asked Jaeger softly.

Kiacyl nodded.

"And hungry?"

Half a nod and a slight shrug were the only answer.

"And bored?"

Kiacyl turned his head to look at Jaeger, annoyance showing plainly in his features.

"Jaeger, what is your point in all of this?" he asked in a voice that was as plainly annoyed as was his expression.

"I just want you talk to me," answered Jaeger.

"Why?" asked Kiacyl, still obviously irritated.

Jaeger shrugged. "I don't know, really," he said. "But it seems like there's something wrong. I know that when I have a problem, it often helps to talk about it with someone."

"And you're offering to be that 'someone'?" asked Kiacyl in a voice that dripped with sarcasm.

"If you want me to be," Jaeger nodded.

"I don't," Kiacyl answered immediately. "I don't need you."

Jaeger held his gaze for a moment. "Do you need Djaisiuk?" he asked.

Kiacyl hesitated, then pursed his lips and looked down again. He didn't answer.

"Does this have anything to do with why Kandryl came to talk to Djaisiuk just after our people arrived?" asked Jaeger.

Kiacyl shrugged. "It might," he said. "What did he say?"

"They didn't want me to hear," answered Jaeger. "I could tell that it was something that meant a lot to Kandryl by his urgency and the tones of his voice, but I really didn't catch the words. He did offer to kill me though, so that they could speak alone."

Kiacyl smiled briefly at the thought, but the smile was one of Vukasovian pleasure, that is to say, the enjoyment that comes of observing sufferings in others. Jaeger stiffened slightly.

"That amuses you?" he asked.

Kiacyl turned again to look at him. "Yes," he said with a touch of defiance in his voice and manner. "Yes, it does. I'm not a Komislavian; I find different things amusing than you do."

Jaeger nodded. "Why are you here, Kiacyl?" he asked abruptly.

Kiacyl looked at him carefully for a moment, then turned again to look at the opposite wall, holding his head high this time in obvious defiance rather than dropping it down in apparent weariness. Before Jaeger could speak again, a footstep was heard in the hall, followed almost immediately by Faquire's entrance. His eyes met Kiacyl's, and for a very brief moment Jaeger saw a look of mutual contempt and disgust pass between them. Then Faquire stepped forward and handed the covered meal dish to Jaeger. This done, he turned and left the room without a word.

"Well, here's the solution to one of your problems," said Jaeger, offering the meal dish to Kiacyl. "Faquire has fixed you a meal."

Kiacyl looked at him incredulously. "And you'd expect me to eat something that he prepared?" he asked. "I think that he'd like to poison me."

Jaeger chuckled. "I wouldn't be surprised if he would like to do so, but I'd bet my own life on the fact that he would never actually do it. If you like, I'll eat some of each of the foods that he's given you just to prove it, although he wouldn't like that at all. He generally provides just the right portions, and he wouldn't like me messing that up."

Kiacyl still eyed the dish suspiciously.

"Come on, you're hungry, aren't you?" asked Jaeger. "It's perfectly safe, I assure you. You're with Komislavians now!"

At last, Kiacyl shrugged and turned away. "You can leave it when you leave, if you want," he said indifferently.

Jaeger looked at him curiously. "Are you saying that you don't want it now, or that you want me to leave?"

"Both."

Jaeger was quiet for a moment.

"Kiacyl why don't you come out and join us?" he asked. "The others would enjoy talking with you, and you can meet the other three of our group now."

"I've met them. They don't like me. And the feeling is mutual."

"You really just want me to leave you alone?"

"Yes," replied Kiacyl without hesitation.

Jaeger was quiet again for a moment, then he stood to his feet and walked to the door.

"If you decide that you would like to come and sit with us, we'll be near the end of this hall for a little while yet," said Jaeger, turning back for a moment. "You're still welcome. You'll hear the voices, if you come before we all go to bed." And with that, he turned and left the room.

* * * * * * *

When Eriane entered the room a short while later with Cieru, he found Kiacyl stretched out on the bench, fast asleep, with an empty meal tray on the floor beside him. The other doctor started to question Eriane about Kiacyl, but Eriane quietly suggested that they not wake him. Once inside the emergency medical room, the two helped Farion to finish the work on Djaisiuk's arm. Cieru then said that he would begin work on Djaisiuk's lungs. He suggested, then insisted, that Farion go and get some food and that Eriane go and get some sleep. His work had been much lighter, he said, and he had eaten, so he would able to work for a while longer. Farion might come back after he'd eaten, but Eriane ought to go to bed now. Eriane and Farion each agreed, one more hesitantly than the other, and together they left the medical room.

Kiacyl was still sleeping quietly, so Eriane silently took the empty meal dish, and he and the other doctor went out, closing the door behind them so as not to wake him.

"Will it be safe to leave him there?" asked Farion. "If he wakes in the night, what would prevent him from harming your friend?"

"He wouldn't," said Eriane, shaking his head. "But you could always seal the door to the medical room when you and Cieru finish, if you wanted, just to make sure."

"You're very trusting," said Farion. "He's a Vukasovian, isn't he?"

"Yes, but I do still trust him," replied Eriane. "I wouldn't trust him in everything, but I do believe that he wouldn't hurt Djaisiuk."

Farion seemed satisfied with this.

"Alright then," he said. "I trust your judgement in this matter; you know him, and I don't."

Eriane smiled. "Well, I'm off to bed," he said. "I suppose that I'll see you in the morning."

Farion laughed softly. "I imagine that you'll be up long before me," he said. "As I said, we're on different time schedules. But yes, I'll see you sometime tomorrow. Goodnight."

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 37 - Healing Hands

2010-08-09T20:54:00.000-04:00

Once on board the ship, Eriane and Djaisiuk were met by the two Komislavian doctors who had come. These led them quickly through a few short halls to an emergency medical room and then, with the help of the ship's mechanic, very carefully transferred Djaisiuk from the invalid's chair onto the medical bed. Eriane administered a local anesthetic (Djaisiuk did not now object), and they removed the two braces from Djaisiuk's arm and leg. These and the chair were then sent out of the ship by the mechanic.

The two doctors very briefly introduced themselves to Eriane as Farion and Cieru, medical instructors of the IC School. They then held a very brief conference between the three of them to decide how to proceed.

"One of us ought to examine the other members of your crew," said Farion to Eriane, "unless you've done that recently and can be sure that none of them need immediate medical attention."

"No, I haven't and can't," answered Eriane sadly, shaking his head. "I believe that most of them are well at the moment, but I can't be sure. Three of them though were being held as prisoners, not as workers, and I would very much like for them to be examined as soon as may be, especially Faquire, our nutritionist. For myself, I would prefer to stay and to help with Djaisiuk. His leg needs immediate attention if we want to have any hope of saving it."

"I'll examine the other students," said Cieru. "There's no room for pride in our profession, Farion; you're the better one to treat this one's injuries."

"Very well then," said Farion. "We'll begin here, and you can join us as soon as you've finished, if the others need no immediate treatment."

Cieru took a scanner and a portable medical bag, similar to the one that Eriane generally used on their own ship, and left the room to go and examine the other boys. Farion picked up a second scanner and began a detailed scan of Djaisiuk's leg, preparatory to beginning the surgery. Eriane worked at one of the side counters, preparing a full anesthetic.

"How horrific!" exclaimed Farion as he continued the scan. "What did they do to you?"

Djaisiuk only closed his eyes at this and did not respond.

"I don't know what they did, but I can't imagine that he'd care to relive it in the telling," said Eriane, shaking his head and not looking up from his work.

"How could they do so much damage without breaking the skin? This is inconceivable."

"Inconceivably horrific," muttered Eriane. "I prefer not to think about it." Finishing his work, he turned and continued, "Djaisiuk, I'd like administer this anesthetic now, if you don't mind. We'll have to do so before we begin to work, you know."

Djaisiuk opened his eyes but made no reply, so Eriane stepped forward. He then noticed Kiacyl still standing at one side of the small room, leaning against one of the counters and watching the proceedings silently.

"You don't need to stay, Kiacyl," said Eriane. "I'm sure that you can go and join the other boys if you'd like."

Kiacyl did not answer, but looked to Djaisiuk. Djaisiuk turned his head to look at him, then shook his head slightly. Kiacyl looked back at Eriane and shrugged, not moving to leave the room. Eriane swallowed uncomfortably.

"Djaisiuk, this is going to be a rather intensive surgery," said Eriane. "I'm afraid that he may become sick if he has to stay and watch this. It's not going to be pleasant."

Kiacyl a short exhalation that might have been amusement or contempt. "I've seen worse," he said.

Eriane blinked at him in confusion, then shuddered with disgust as he suddenly understood Kiacyl's meaning. He shook his head.

"I really didn't want to hear that just now," he said quietly. "Djaisiuk, may he at least step into the next room and wait there? This is probably going to take a long time, and there's nowhere in here where he can sit."

Djaisiuk turned his head again to look up at the ceiling and seemed to consider for a moment. He then nodded silently. Eriane looked to Kiacyl, and the latter shrugged indifferently and left the room. Djaisiuk then closed his eyes again, and Eriane administered the anesthetic. The almost immediate relaxing of the muscles indicated that it had been successful, and Eriane turned to help Farion to begin the surgery.

"They couldn't have done more damage if they'd dropped an engine on his leg," said Farion. "I can't imagine how they were able to perform this much damage and yet leave the leg attached and the skin practically unbroken!" He shook his head. "I don't know that we'll be able to repair it."

"Well, we're going to at least try!" exclaimed Eriane, looking at him with a shocked expression.

Farion returned the look. "Of course we will," he answered in a tone of surprise. "I'm a doctor; did you suppose that I would suggest that we not?"

Eriane lowered his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said, returning to his own preparations. "I'm afraid that I've been around the Vukasovians for too long. They wouldn't have even tried to save his leg, if he had been a Vukasovian. The medic who helped me to prepare him to be moved to the ship went so far as to suggest that we amputate both his arm and leg then and there so as to save time and work."

"How unfeeling!" exclaimed Farion with a look of horror. "Even if the possibility is remote, we will still try."

"Yes," nodded Eriane. "I would say that 'unfeeling' describes their race very well."

"If I may ask -- though you needn't answer, for it's none of my business --" said Farion as he continued to work, "why did you all bring one of them with you?"

"You mean Kiacyl?" asked Eriane.

"If that's his name, yes. The one whom you sent out of the room just now?"

"Yes, that's Kiacyl. And I really don't know why he's here. Djaisiuk brought him, and we're not supposed question his actions, much as we'd like to do so sometimes."

"But you know this Vukasovian?"

"Yes. He worked with Djaisiuk while we were there, and he spent a lot of time with the rest of us."

"I wouldn't have thought that any Vukasovian would allow himself to be taken by Komislavians willingly. But he seemed to have no objection."

Eriane shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "Djaisiuk will doubtless give Taician his reasons, and Taician may or may not tell the rest of us. Kiacyl too might tell us, if he wants to do so. I do wonder, but I can't even begin to guess, so I don't try."

As they continued to work, the discussion continued also, though there were often long breaks throughout. Both were concentrating fully on the task at hand, yet they seemed almost to function as one, so well did they complement one another in their work.

"The damage here is incredible," said Farion, after they'd been working for a short time. "This is going to take a rather long time."

Eriane nodded. "Several hours at least," he murmured.

"Are you sure that you feel up to this?" asked Farion. "You've been through a lot yourself, I'd imagine. If you really want to do something, you could always trade places with Cieru; that work would be less difficult. I don't want you to wear yourself out."

"No, I'm alright," replied Eriane, smiling gratefully at the suggestion, though he had no intention of accepting. "Thank you though. I want to do this. I've had to trust all of my companions' care to our enemies for so long that I would so much prefer to be doing it myself at last. I do trust you, but I'll feel much easier working on him along with you."

Farion smiled and nodded. "I understand," he said. "I was a doctor for the group of the Chearu for nearly eight years. I hated to trust the members even to their own families when they went on vacation. I did eventually get over it though."

"Did it get easier when the group was disbanded?"

"No," he laughed. "No, it actually got harder. I was always wanting to check up on all of them. They humored me for a while, but our counselor finally told me that I needed to be able to let go. He was older than I, so he was retired too. Our pilot was much younger and had become a member of another group. He was the hardest to let go. He's so fool-hardy! I was always having to treat him for some injury or other."

Eriane smiled. "We have one like that too," he said. "He's a mechanic though, not a pilot, but he's older than I am, so he'll probably retire before I do."

Again there was silence for a time as they worked.

"The bone may not heal straight," said Farion at last. "We'd have to apply an outer holding to it if we wanted to be perfectly sure that it would heal properly, but then the muscle here would be less likely to heal at all."

Eriane nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid we're going to have to do it somewhat 'old-fashioned' and just pray for the best. Djaisiuk is not an active person, so having him keep the leg perfectly straight and fairly still for a few weeks shouldn't be very difficult. If he was any other member, we might have some trouble. Except with Detrin, of course."

"Detrin?" asked Farion distractedly.

"Oh, he's our electrician," replied Eriane. "He's very reserved and incredibly mature for his age. He's very patient too."

"Mm," replied the other, and there was quiet again.

"I wish that there was something more that we could do about his knee," said Eriane after they'd been working for well over three hours. "Even if the rest of the leg heals, if this doesn't heal properly, it'll cause incredible difficulties."

"That's true," said Farion, "but I'm a bit more worried about the ankle." He shook his head. "I really have far less hope for saving his foot than for the rest of the leg."

Eriane nodded. "I wouldn't say it if he were awake, but I agree with you." He sighed. "We can but try."

"Yes," agreed Farion quietly. "We can do no less."

* * * * * * *

After a full five hours of steady work, they had finished all that they could do on Djaisiuk's leg, and both young doctors breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Oh," sighed the older doctor, stretching his arms. "That was a task like none I've ever performed."

"I think that we did well," said Eriane contentedly. "I've a lot more hope now than I had a few hours ago."

Farion smiled and nodded. "Yes, indeed," he said. "But now you really ought to go and take a rest. You should at least get something to eat; when was the last meal that you had?"

"Oh, I'd forgotten about that," Eriane replied, lifting a hand and rubbing his forehead. "No, I've not eaten since breakfast today, and it must be nearly bedtime now." He sighed again. "Yes, I suppose that I should go."

"Just send Cieru in here to help me, if you see him and if he's nearly finished," said Farion. "Really, even if he isn't, it'd probably be better for you to take over for him and let him come and help me. I'm going to get started on the arm now."

"Don't you want a break yourself?" asked Eriane. "His arm is nowhere near being in as much danger as was his leg. It won't hurt it to wait for a few minutes while you have something to eat."

Farion nodded but made no move to leave. "I know," he said, "but I'll stay. I am on a slightly different time schedule than all of you, you know, though it's only off by a few hours. I had my midday meal just before we arrived at Vukosava, and I'll be alright for at least a few more hours yet. It shouldn't take nearly that long to repair the damage to his arm. I'll take at least a short break after that."

"Alright," said Eriane. He went to the door, then turned back to Farion for a moment. "I'll send in Cieru if he has finished. And thank you so very much. I really do mean it."

Farion smiled and shrugged. "I'm just doing my job, really," he said.

Eriane smiled too and walked out of the room, silently thanking God for returning them to their own loving and caring people at last.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 36 - Boarding

2010-08-08T22:38:00.002-04:00

Soon they reached the docks. The soldiers then led them to a particular dock wherein was moored a distinctly Komislavian vessel, though its make was somewhat different from any other Komislavian ship that the boys had seen. By far the most welcome sight was three Komislavian men, standing in front of the gangway of the ship. One was apparently a Komislavian diplomat, and the other two, they found out later, were the pilot and navigator of the ship on which they were to board. These were all grown men, not students, though from their appearance it was plain that they worked either at the IC School or somewhere within Scavia. They had set up a scanner, apparently in order to ensure that the correct boys (and only the correct boys) came aboard, and the pilot stood at this, the diplomat stood at the pilot's left hand, and the navigator stood a little behind the other two. Djaisiuk, Jaeger, and Eriane could also see all nine of the other boys standing together in front of the ship. They spoke with one another and with the three new Komislavians openly. Jaeger and Eriane greeted the others happily as they approached, especially Creole whom Eriane was very pleased to see looked quite well. Djaisiuk made no reaction either in look or word, but rather kept his eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of him. The boys were not at all surprised at this and did not bother him with conversation attempts or inquiries above looks of sympathy and minor comments of concern for his condition. Wysire approached Djaisiuk and Kiacyl and began to speak to the latter, supposing that he had come to say goodbye to the boys, but Djaisiuk quickly cut him off with a short gesture. Wysire was surprised by this, but he obediently backed away without asking questions. Enough of the other boys saw this to understand that they were not to speak to Kiacyl. Faquire started to question Djaisiuk about him, but Djaisiuk cut him off as well with a gesture. Kiacyl said nothing, but merely stayed very close to Djaisiuk, not looking at or speaking to any of the other boys.

Now that all of the boys were here, the diplomat asked for the boys to line up to be scanned before entering the ship. The boys immediately fell into line from oldest to youngest, as was customary, but there was a gap between Leil and Creole, for Djaisiuk did not move forward immediately. Eriane stepped out of line to come and assist him, but Djaisiuk motioned him away and moved slowly to the end of the line, Kiacyl keeping close behind him. Eriane looked at first as though he would insist on accompanying Djaisiuk, but Djaisiuk fixed him with a firm glance that seemed to communicate clearly his opinion of that idea.

The boys were scanned, one by one, and allowed to enter the ship. Each one went past the diplomat and pilot without difficulty. Eriane alone remained outside of the ship, watching for and ready to assist with any possible difficulty that Djaisiuk might have. At last Djaisiuk came to the scanner. It was only then that the diplomat seemed to notice Kiacyl. He frowned at Kiacyl in mild confusion and seemed about to speak as Djaisiuk carefully stretched out his right arm and placed his hand under the scanner.

"This is--" Djaisiuk began in a hoarse voice before the man could speak, but he cut himself off and paused. He grimaced from the pain that this caused in his lungs but soon continued. "This is my assistant," he said in a hoarse, weak voice, but in a tone that allowed no argument. "He need not be scanned."

"What?" asked the diplomat in surprise. "All must be scanned who intend to enter the ship; but that certainly does not apply to --"

"Sir," the pilot at the scanner interrupted.

The diplomat turned to the pilot and looked as the other pointed to the screen. He then frowned again in confusion. The navigator, still standing behind the two, leaned forward in curiosity and looked over the shoulder of the pilot. Immediately he raised his eyebrows and looked up at Djaisiuk in admiration.

Djaisiuk was well aware of what the three were now seeing: "Djaisiuk of the IC School. DO NOT QUESTION HIS ACTIONS. -- Taician". An order signed by the head of the school, embedded within his ID chip, informing all who cared to check that Djaisiuk's actions were not to be questioned. Should he choose to do something, anything, he had the authority of Taician, one of the highest authorities on Komislava, besides being the very highest within the IC School.

The diplomat and the pilot exchanged glances. They had both heard of Djaisiuk; everyone who worked in or with the IC School had heard of him, but neither of these two had ever met him. They had both been informed that he would be among the boys whom they had been sent to retrieve, but had not known until now which of the boys he would be. Now here he was. And it seemed that he was instructing them to disregard their own orders. He wanted to bring with them a Vukasovian! The boy was obviously not Komislavian. He couldn't have been with the twelve when they had been captured. Why would Djaisiuk want to do this? Wasn't it just what the Vukasovians had done with them? Would not this also be viewed as a case of kidnapping? There were Vukasovian soldiers in the room even now. Wouldn't they question if the Komislavians attempted to take thirteen rather than twelve boys aboard the ship?

"DO NOT QUESTION HIS ACTIONS. -- Taician" The diplomat licked his lips. He had his orders, but Djaisiuk's authority was on the same level as his own. Taician had sent him on this mission, and Taician had given him the specifics and directives. Seeing that they were mutually exclusive, the question seemed to be: which of Taician's orders should he now obey? He stood silently, staring at the screen, unsure of what to do.

Djaisiuk did not wait for him to decide. Suddenly, he withdrew his hand from the scanner. The screen went blank. The diplomat looked up, startled, but Djaisiuk merely turned away. He directed the invalid's chair slowly but purposefully towards the ship, and Kiacyl followed quickly beside him. Eriane, still waiting, had watched the proceeding in astonishment. The diplomat started to open his mouth as if he would, even now, call Djaisiuk back, but no sound came. Djaisiuk continued up the gangway, followed by Eriane, and disappeared into the ship, Kiacyl still at his side.

The Vukasovians in the room had not reacted. It was done.

The diplomat closed his mouth and swallowed. He then shook his head with a sigh, hoping that he would not be in too much trouble when they returned to Komislava. After all, Taician himself had issued the command that Djaisiuk was not to be questioned, and Djaisiuk had said that the Vukasovian boy was to accompany them. He shook his head again and turned back to help the pilot and navigator to disassemble the scanning equipment in preparation for departure.

* * * * * * *

From a far corner of the large docks, another sigh might have been heard, though it was carefully suppressed. Kandryl himself had carefully made his own way through the near deserted halls to the docks. Here he had hidden himself as well as he could to watch and see whether Djaisiuk would be able to do what he had promised to attempt. Kandryl firmly believed that Kiacyl would be safe in Djaisiuk's hands, should Djaisiuk choose to protect him. Djaisiuk had defeated Kandryl himself. Kandryl did not believe now that there was anything that Djaisiuk could not accomplish, if he truly wished it. And he had just done it.

Yes, Kiacyl would be safe. He would go to live among the Komislavians. They were a weak race, but they were pathetically kind. They were even kind to their enemies. It was true, Kandryl thought, that they may dislike Kiacyl at first for being a Vukasovian. They may even hate him for what his people had done to these twelve. But they would not kill him. They would probably not even mistreat him, no matter how intensely they disliked him. And, in time, Kandryl was sure that their pathetic, overwhelming desire to forgive everyone for any wrong committed would overcome their anger, and they would accept him.

Ever since they had left Earth to found a farming colony on Komislava, this people had been characterized by their illogical good-will towards everyone. They had grown, having now tamed and cultivated more than half of the planet. Their research had expanded and their technology had increased, yet they refused to research warfare. The only weapons which the Komislavians owned were for hunting, and only a few did that.

The people now called the Vukasovians had left Earth in search of new worlds to conquer. They had found Vukosava and had settled there. They had often tried to expand beyond their own planet, but the people of Earth, the watch-dog of the universe, would always step in to defend the underdog. It was enough to make one sick, Kandryl thought. Kandryl had always believed, as did all Vukasovians, that the Komislavians were too close to Vukosava to exist without being under Vukasovian rule. The Londarians had bent the knee to the Vukasovians several generations back and remained now very submissive to them. Komislava ought to do the same. Earth had no right to stand between Vukosava and Komislava. The fact that both races had the same origins carried no weight whatsoever with the Vukasovians. All who breathed lived to be conquered by them. But as long as Earth remained the most powerful planet, the Vukasovians had to content themselves with mere dreams of conquest. Kandryl sighed in disgust just thinking about it. Even so, he had to admit that he was, for the first time in his life, just a little glad of the fact that the Komislavians were safe from Vukasovian rule. Kiacyl would live there, and, as long as peace was sure, he would be safe. He would be a stranger. He would always be alone. But he would live. He would be safe.

When Djaisiuk had reached the scanner and the diplomat had begun to protest, Kandryl had experienced some of the strongest tension that he had ever felt in his life. He felt now that he had aged several years in the time that it took for Djaisiuk to move away from the scanner and up into the ship. That accursed chair certainly had moved slowly enough! But he was gone now. Kiacyl was aboard the ship; he was safe. The Vukasovian officer who had apparently been placed in charge of the repossession of the facility had entered the dock just after Djaisiuk had boarded. The pilot and navigator boarded the ship, carrying their equipment, as the medical chair and braces which had been used by Djaisiuk were brought out and delivered to one of the Vukasovian soldiers.

Now the diplomat was exchanging a few stiff and polite words with the Vukasovian officer. Now the diplomat was boarding the ship himself. The door was closing. The engines were starting. Now the ship was on its way. It had cleared the atmosphere. Now it was a quickly diminishing light in the dark sky. It was gone. Kandryl breathed another deep sigh of relief. Kiacyl was safe and would remain so. Nothing else mattered.

Hearing the sound of footsteps in the hall behind him, Kandryl tensed and turned. They were the sound of soldiers. They were still searching for him. Kandryl smiled. He had designed this base; he had built it. He knew every hall and passageway. The soldiers would find him soon enough, he knew, but he was not about to make it any easier for them than he must. Before slipping down another passageway, he glanced through the opening, quickly disappearing as the doors were being shut, through which the Komislavian ship had flown.

"Goodbye, Kiacyl," he whispered. "Farewell, my son."

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 35 - A Last Surprise

2010-08-07T22:12:00.000-04:00

Jaeger immediately dropped the gun that he held and reached forward to catch Djaisiuk as he fell. Lifting him carefully, Jaeger then looked to Eriane for instruction. Eriane had come hurriedly forward and now instructed Jaeger to lay Djaisiuk gently on the medical bed.

The officer, watching the proceedings in growing irritation, emitted a suppressed sigh and turned to one of the soldiers behind him. “Summon a medic,” he said shortly. He then stepped forward toward the bed himself.

“And tell him to bring a transfusion,” Eriane called after the departing soldier. “B452–, no, wait a moment. It would be K6-17, by Vukasovian measurements. And hurry!”

“What’s wrong with him?” asked the officer, stepping up to the medical bed as the soldier left. “Nothing life-threatening?”

“I hope not,” said Eriane, not looking up as he continued to work. “But I can’t be sure yet.” He moved a scanner over Djaisiuk, focusing particular attention on his head and chest. "At the moment, the highest priority is to get some blood back into his veins. He’s obviously suffering from massive internal bleeding.”

The officer motioned several more of the soldiers to enter and turned to the other boys. “You will all go to your quarters to gather what belongings you may have brought in preparation for departure. You will then be escorted to your ship. If you brought no belongings, then you may go immediately to the docks.”

The boys looked at one another.

“Meaning no offense, sir,” began Christopher quietly, “but how can we trust that you’re telling us the truth? How do we know that this isn’t just a trick by Kandryl to separate us?”

“He couldn't have put together something like this so quickly,” said Jade.

“Kandryl?” the officer repeated. “Ah, yes, the traitor. He’s no longer issuing commands here.”

“Traitor?” echoed Cycil.

“It seems that he’s been functioning outside of the boundaries of Vukasovian law of late,” the officer continued. “Kidnapping is, as I’m sure you know, an interplanetary offense. It is by no means condoned by the Vukasovian government. This entire facility has been functioning without the blessing, or even the permission, of any higher officials. Its existence has only just been brought to our attention, and I assure you that it will be immediately shut down and possibly destroyed in its entirety.”

“Then we really are going home?” asked Leil with a touch of hope in his voice, though there was still some skepticism as well. “When?”

“As soon as I can get you all assembled in the docks,” replied the officer impatiently. “The quicker you comply, the sooner you can be on your way. Now, if you’ll consent to go along with these soldiers . . . .”

At this moment, the medic who had been summoned entered and, at a word from the officer, approached the medical bed and reluctantly began to speak to Eriane as he scanned Djaisiuk himself.

“Why do we have to go along with the soldiers?” asked Sandy, looking at the officer. “And why so many of them?”

“They’re for your own protection,” the latter explained, still sounding impatient. “We do not yet have Kandryl in custody. He is still somewhere in the base. It is possible that he would attempt to do one or more of you some harm yet.”

“Creole!” exclaimed Christopher. “Please sir, there is one of us missing. Creole is still being held prisoner. He could be in danger!”

“Where is he?” the officer asked.

“I can take you there,” said Wysire. “I’ve been to see him. As long as they still have him in the same cell, I know where he is.”

The officer at first instructed two soldiers to accompany him, but Christopher insisted on going too, explaining that he had been a prisoner as well and had, therefore, no possessions to retrieve, so the officer assigned them a following of six guards. The other boys then moved forward to follow their example and were each assigned two soldiers to accompany them. Eriane alone seemed to take no notice of the proceedings, being completely engaged in caring for Djaisiuk. Jaeger too stood silently next to the bed, watching the medical proceedings.

“I’m not leaving either,” Jaeger had said when the officer suggested that he go with the soldiers. “I’m staying with here with Djaisiuk. I’ve nothing to pack anyway. Kandryl destroyed the single item that I had brought with me long ago.”

The officer shrugged slightly as if to say that he didn’t care whether Jaeger stayed or went. He then turned to the argument being held between Eriane and the medic.

"You can't give Vukasovian blood to a Komislavian," snapped the medic.

"There's no difference!" Eriane snapped back. "He's going to die if he doesn't get a transfusion."

"Then let him die. Look at the scan; there's no point in trying to save this one."

"What?!"

"Give him the transfusion," ordered the officer, looking at the medic sternly.

The medic looked up at him, still angry but trying not to show it. "He's Komislavian," he said. "We can't give him Vukasovian blood."

"I said give it to him," repeated the officer in a low voice.

The medic looked for a moment as though he would refuse, but then turned and began the transfusion. The officer then assigned four soldiers to remain with the three boys, then turned himself and left the room. As the blood began to flow in his veins again, Djaisiuk slowly regained consciousness.

"We'll need braces and some means of carrying him," said Eriane, speaking again to the medic. "We'll also want an anesthetic."

"Why do you want braces?" asked the medic.

"One for his leg, and one for his arm," replied Eriane. "I think that--"

"Why not just amputate them here and now? It won't take long."

Jaeger had watched quietly as Djaisiuk regained consciousness, not really paying attention to what Eriane and the medic were saying. Djaisiuk blinked once or twice, then lay still, breathing very lightly and staring up at the ceiling. Jaeger then reached forward and gently placed his hand on Djaisiuk’s left hand, which lay close to him, but, at the touch, Djaisiuk inhaled sharply and cringed slightly as a brief expression of pain passed over his face. Jaeger pulled his hand back quickly, and Eriane turned to look at them.

“Please don’t touch his arm, Jaeger,” he said. “Actually, it would be better if you don’t touch him at all, now that he’s awake. I know that it doesn't look like it, but he's covered in injuries, and physical contact will, for the time being, only exacerbate the situation.”

Jaeger lifted his hands and started to apologize, but Eriane had turned again to continue his argument with the medic. Djaisiuk seemed to pay none of them any heed, so Jaeger simply moved back from the bed half a step and remained, watching quietly.

"I'm not going amputate without trying to repair them."

The medic laughed sharply, then suddenly thrust the scanner in Eriane's face. Eriane started back.

"Look at it!" snapped the medic. "You think that you could repair this?"

“I won’t agree to amputation, no matter how bad it is, without at least attempting reparation,” insisted Eriane. “I’ve seen medical miracles in my lifetime.”

“You’re wasting time and energy,” replied the medic firmly. “It can’t be done.”

“You’re wasting time yourself now. We’re not going to amputate, and that’s all that there is to it. Now you can help me to prepare him to be moved or not.”

The medic sighed and shook his head in disgust. “Very well then,” he said. “If he dies, then all it’ll mean is one less Komislavian in the world, and I say good riddance!”

The medic turned towards the door. Eriane bristled at his last statement and glared after him, but he set his jaw firmly and said nothing. The medic turned back again as he reached the door.

“Are you coming? Or do you trust me enough to pick the braces myself?” he asked sarcastically.

Eriane stepped forward silently to follow him, biting back a sharp retort. As the two of them were leaving the room, Eriane looked back at Jaeger.

“Please stay with him,” said Eriane. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Jaeger nodded. “I won’t leave,” he said.

Eriane smiled wearily and left, following the medic and accompanied by two of the soldiers. The other two soldiers remained behind and stood at attention, watching Jaeger and Djaisiuk. The door closed, and silence fell over the room.

Jaeger looked down at Djaisiuk for a long moment, then walked around the bed to stand at Djaisiuk’s right side, feeling rather nervous after the contact made with his injured left arm.

“Djaisiuk,” he said at last, speaking softly. “You’ve been braver than any of us. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through over these last few days. There are so many questions that I’d like to ask you, but I won’t. I do still trust you. And I won’t question you.” He smiled. “You said that we needed to wait. I wish that I knew whether you meant that we should wait for our people to arrive. I can’t help but wonder: did you know? And, if so, is this the 'sabotage' of which Kandryl accused you?”

Djaisiuk still did not look at him. Jaeger continued to smile.

Suddenly, both were startled to hear the door open and two shots fire, all at nearly the same time. Jaeger turned quickly towards the door at the front of the room in time to see the two soldiers fall to the floor, both having been shot. Djaisiuk turned his head a little to the right, but he was lying at such an angle that he could not see the door. He had given the slightest start at the sound of the gunshots, but the surprise did not register on his face.

As Jaeger watched, Kandryl entered the room.

Kandryl was carrying two small hand weapons which he had apparently just used to dispatch the two soldiers. He now stepped silently into the room, glancing carefully around him. He held Jaeger’s gaze for a moment, then turned and closed the door, sealing it from within. Turning back to look at Jaeger, he continued into the room, walking around to the left-hand side of the bed, opposite Jaeger, and looked down at Djaisiuk.

Jaeger tensed, looking more like a wild-cat than ever, obviously ready to leap across the bed, if necessary. Djaisiuk simply turned his head slowly to the left to look up at Kandryl. There was no fear in his eyes, but neither did he look quite normal for him. He looked very tired, and the pain still showed somewhat in his otherwise indifferent expression.

Kandryl looked up at Jaeger again. “Get out,” he ordered calmly.

“No!” exclaimed Jaeger indignantly, seeming shocked at the order. “You can’t possibly imagine that I’d leave him alone with you, especially now!”

Kandryl raised the gun in his left hand to point across the bed at Jaeger’s forehead. “I’ll kill you, if I must,” he said calmly. “I no longer have any need of you alive.”

Jaeger lifted his chin and stared at Kandryl defiantly. “I’m afraid you must then,” he said in a low, firm voice, “for I’ll not leave otherwise.”

Djaisiuk had inhaled audibly at the first part of Jaeger’s reply and, with a little effort, lifted his right hand and placed it over the gun, his hand resting partly on Kandryl’s as well. Kandryl gave a slight shudder at the touch.

“No,” said Djaisiuk hoarsely, in the same strained voice with which he had spoken earlier to Jaeger, though now it no longer trembled. Then, turning to look at Kandryl again, he swallowed and said slowly, “What?”

Kandryl looked from Djaisiuk to Jaeger and back again for a moment, then slowly lowered the gun. “I want to speak with you alone,” he said to Djaisiuk. “Only for a moment.” Then, looking up at Jaeger again, he continued, “I swear that I won’t try to hurt him.”

Jaeger gave a short exhalation of incredulity and contempt. “And do you expect me to believe you?” He shook his head. “No, I won’t leave. Do what you will, I won’t leave.”

“Please,” said Djaisiuk softly, looking up at Jaeger. He then motioned toward one corner of the room, indicating that he wished Jaeger to at least step back to let them talk.

“Djaisiuk, you can’t possibly trust him,” said Jaeger incredulously.

Djaisiuk held Jaeger’s eye for a moment, looking even more tired, and again motioned toward the corner of the room.

Jaeger looked from Djaisiuk to Kandryl and back again, still hesitant and openly distrustful of Kandryl. Finally, he withdrew to the far corner of the room, still watching closely, ready to leap forward quickly if necessary.

Once Jaeger had withdrawn, Kandryl pulled the tall stool up to the bed, sat down on it, and leaned forward to be able to speak to Djaisiuk in a whisper such that Jaeger could not overhear. Djaisiuk had allowed his gaze to again settle on the far wall, and this was just as well, considering the fact that neither would likely have enjoyed looking into the eyes of the other at such close range.

“Djaisiuk,” whispered Kandryl in his usual purring voice. “You have succeeded. You have shown that you are not only as great as your friends suggest; you are better. You have defeated me and lived to tell the tale, although perhaps only just barely.” He smiled briefly and paused for a moment, then continued, “I have come now to issue you a challenge, Djaisiuk. You have performed the very difficult; now perform the impossible. There is one who will be executed now, because of what you have done. I challenge you to save him.”

The slightest hint of a reaction passed over Djaisiuk’s face at this last comment, but Kandryl continued quickly.

“I am not speaking of myself,” he whispered firmly. “No, I am not afraid to die. But you know what will happen now: I will not be the only one to die. No indeed, there will be many others who will suffer for your success. There is one here who is young, and who has many years ahead of him, and it is of him whom I speak.” Again he smiled. “Come, perform the impossible once again. Say that you will do it.”

Djaisiuk’s face had relaxed entirely by this time. It still showed some small amount of the pain that he was feeling, but it betrayed no tension. His eyes were half-closed, and he did not look at Kandryl. As the latter finished, Djaisiuk slowly closed his eyes completely. Kandryl frowned.

“Djaisiuk,” he almost hissed, still whispering. “Do you not understand me? I’m not asking for myself. I’m asking for you to save the life of a boy: your assistant, Kiacyl. Think of him. He’s young. He’ll be executed now, and you’ve accomplished it! You can’t be sorry that you’ve killed me. But he has done you no wrong, and it is for his life that I now ask. Yes, Djaisiuk, I’m asking you to save him. There is no one in the world now who can help him except you, and if you refuse, he will die, and you will have accomplished it.”

Djaisiuk did not move or open his eyes as Kandryl spoke. He continued to lie perfectly still. He did not react either to Kandryl’s words or to the increasing urgency in his voice.

“What do you want from me?!” Kandryl hissed through clenched teeth, glancing nervously at the door as he spoke. “Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg for his life?! He’s a child! And you are a Komislavian, even if you don’t act like one. Show some pity! You can save him. Don’t try to deny it. If you leave him here, then you alone will be responsible for his death. His blood will be on your hands! Djaisiuk, I beg you to save his life.”

In his agitation, Kandryl took hold of Djaisiuk’s left arm that lay before him. Djaisiuk gasped and opened his eyes, and Jaeger leapt forward immediately. Kandryl quickly let go and glanced at Jaeger. The latter stopped, but looked at him cautiously. For a moment, the two regarded one another. Then Djaisiuk’s voice interrupted them.

“Yes,” said Djaisiuk softly.

Djaisiuk had not been ignoring Kandryl’s request; he had been thinking. What Kandryl had asked was, indeed, very nearly impossible, and it required a great deal of thinking and planning to judge whether even Djaisiuk himself could hope to accomplish it, particularly in the state in which he now found himself. Also, there was the question of whether he ought to do it. The consequences would be far reaching indeed. So many factors had to be considered.

With the great loss of blood that Djaisiuk had sustained from the tortures of the last two days, thinking was far more difficult than was normal for him. The transfusion he had received was helping, but he was still far from well. Even so, his mind was still the greatest that Komislava had ever known. And it had not failed him now.

Kandryl turned back to Djaisiuk and frowned uncertainly.

“You will do it?” he asked.

“Yes,” replied Djaisiuk.

“And will you swear to me that he will not be harmed?”

Djaisiuk was quiet for a moment. Before he could answer, footsteps were heard in the hall. A noise was then heard outside the door as someone attempted to open it. Knocking was heard, and this quickly changed to a pounding, and Eriane’s voice was heard outside, calling to Jaeger and Djaisiuk. The voice of at least one Vukasovian was heard, calling to the guards within the room. Jaeger started to move forward but stopped, looking to Djaisiuk for instruction.

Kandryl rose quickly to his feet but looked down again at Djaisiuk, waiting for an answer. Djaisiuk looked up and met Kandryl’s eyes.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“He’ll be waiting for you in the hall as you leave this room,” Kandryl whispered hurriedly to Djaisiuk. He then turned and walked swiftly out of the door at the back of the room.

Djaisiuk looked at Jaeger and gave the slightest nod. Jaeger then rushed forward to open the door.

“What happened? Are you both alright? Why did you seal the door?” asked Eriane as soon as the door was opened. He stopped in shock at the sight of the two soldiers lying motionless on the floor. “Jaeger, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do it this time,” answered Jaeger. “We had a . . . an unexpected visitor.”

The two remaining soldiers who had accompanied Eriane had apparently already sent for assistance, for the officer whom they had met earlier entered the room almost immediately with several more soldiers. He looked over the situation darkly.

“What happened here?” he demanded of the remaining soldiers.

The two soldiers explained that they had left the room with one of the Komislavian boys, leaving the other two guards with the remaining two Komislavians. They had returned to find the door sealed, and, once it was opened, they found that their companions were dead.

The officer stepped up to the medical table and looked from Jaeger to Djaisiuk.

“What happened here?” he asked again, directing the question this time to them.

“Kandryl decided to pay us a visit just after Eriane and the other three left,” said Jaeger matter-of-factly. “He came in here with his guns blazing and shot those two before I even realized that anyone had entered the room.”

Eriane looked up in shock. "Kandryl?!" he exclaimed. "He was here?"

“Are you certain that it was him?” the officer asked.

Jaeger gave a short laugh. “His is not a face that I’m likely to forget for a very long time.”

“Why did he kill them and not you?" continued the officer. “And where did he go? Do you know where he is now?”

“He said that he came to talk to Djaisiuk,” Jaeger shrugged. “They talked. He left. He did threaten to kill me, and I don't know why he didn't. I don’t know where he is now, and I really don’t care, as long as I never see him again.”

“Did you seal the door then when he left?”

“No, he sealed it when he entered; I would assume that it was so that he wouldn’t be disturbed. He left through the back door there, and I opened the front door when Eriane came back.”

The officer dispatched several of the soldiers through the back door indicated with instructions to find and apprehend Kandryl before he attempted any more mischief.

“He won’t evade us for long,” said the officer, turning back to Jaeger. “This base is large, but there are only so many places where he can hide. We’ll have him in custody within the hour.”

The officer then turned to Djaisiuk, asking Kandryl’s reasons for wanting to speak with him, but Djaisiuk would neither answer nor even look at the officer. This frustrated the officer at first, but Eriane quickly intervened, saying that Djaisiuk did not speak much under normal circumstances, and, as he had recently been under an extreme amount of physical and emotional duress, the officer mustn’t expect him to offer any sort of explanation on any subject at this time. He gave his opinion that if Djaisiuk knew anything about the whereabouts of Kandryl, he would surely have volunteered the information. Djaisiuk had little enough reason to like Kandryl, Eriane assured him, the latter having been the one directly responsible for Djaisiuk’s current condition. The officer had reluctantly acknowledged Eriane’s logic and had then ceased his questioning. He assigned all of the remaining soldiers to remain with the young Komislavians and to accompany them to their ship as soon as they were ready to move. He then went himself through the back door to follow the soldiers whom he had sent “in search of the traitor.”

Eriane had, by this time, examined Djaisiuk again quickly and assured himself that he, at least, had not received any further harm. He then became calm and very business-like. Eriane and the medic no longer argued with one another – indeed they scarcely spoke to each other at all. Eriane produced an anesthetic which he would then have given to Djaisiuk, but the latter shook his head and lifted his right hand to waive the drug away.

"Djaisiuk, this is only a simple anesthetic," said Eriane. "It will enable us to move you to the ship. You can't possibly want to be conscious when we do that; it would be unbelievably painful."

Djaisiuk did not answer, but neither did he lower his hand.

"Djaisiuk, please let me administer this," said Eriane.

Again, Djaisiuk shook his head.

Eriane looked at Jaeger and frowned questioningly. Jaeger merely shrugged. Eriane considered for a moment, then sighed.

"Djaisiuk, I'm going to have to overrule you on this," said Eriane at last. "You know that I can, when it comes to anything medical. I'm not going to have you moved without an anesthetic."

"Chair," rasped Djaisiuk.

"What?" asked Eriane.

Djaisiuk swallowed painfully and repeated, "Invalid's chair."

"Absolutely not!" exclaimed Eriane. "Djaisiuk, I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm not going to allow it."

"He's insane," said the Vukasovian medic scornfully. "I've seen it happen many times. With the tortures they used on him, it's almost to be expected."

Eriane frowned at this, but he did not answer. He turned instead to Djaisiuk. "Whatever you want can be done once we're on the ship and these wounds have been treated," he said. "In the meantime, seeing the condition that you're in, I'm taking charge."

"Jaeger," said Djaisiuk in a strained voice.

Jaeger stepped up to the bed again, and Djaisiuk looked at him with what was -- for him -- an almost pleading expression.

"Djaisiuk, I don't know what you want me to do," said Jaeger.

In response, Djaisiuk lifted his right hand, reaching toward Jaeger. Jaeger accepted the hand, still looking confused, and Djaisiuk pulled as if trying to raise himself.

"Stop!" exclaimed Eriane in horror, taking hold of Djaisiuk's shoulder to hold him down. "Djaisiuk, stop! What are you doing?!"

The medic shook his head. "He's insane."

"Djaisiuk, please; tell me what is so important," pleaded Eriane.

Djaisiuk lay back again, breathing a little heavily with his recent exertion, and shook his head.

Jaeger swallowed. "Eriane, I think that he'd rather walk to the ship than have you give him that anesthetic."

Eriane licked his lips uncertainly and looked from Jaeger to Djaisiuk. The medic sighed in disgust and murmured something about "stupid Komislavians." This rankled Eriane, but he bit his tongue, took a breath, and nodded.

"Alright, Djaisiuk," he said. "I'll trust you, if you're sure that this is what you want."

Djaisiuk opened his eyes, looked up at Eriane, and whispered, "Thank you."

Eriane's eyes widened in shock. He glanced up at Jaeger and saw that he was just as surprised. This must be something important indeed, if Djaisiuk would speak unnecessarily for it. With another nod, Eriane turned to send for an invalid's chair.

With the medic’s help, Eriane carefully fitted Djaisiuk’s leg with a metal brace that would keep it from moving or causing further damage when he was moved. Eriane had ruefully to admit to himself that it was hardly possible to cause any more damage to the leg than had already been caused. Even so, movement of any kind would be excruciating, and, with Djaisiuk wishing to remain conscious, it was best, he reasoned, to keep it as still as possible until he was aboard the ship. This done, they then fitted a similar but smaller brace onto his left arm. Once they had finished their preparations, Eriane and Jaeger carefully transferred Djaisiuk to the invalid’s chair. This was a chair on soft wheels whose power was controlled by the occupant. There was an addition in the front which Eriane raised on which Djaisiuk’s right leg could lie, so that it would not have to be bent.

As soon as all was made ready, the three left the room, Jaeger walking on Djaisiuk’s left side and Eriane on his right. The soldiers walked with them, some in front and some behind. The medic left to return to wherever it was from whence he had been summoned. They had not gone far when they saw Kiacyl, standing to one side of the hall, watching them. Eriane opened his mouth to say something, but stopped as Djaisiuk extended his right hand towards Kiacyl and beckoned him to follow. Eriane and Jaeger exchanged silent glances of confusion, but asked no questions. The soldiers made no attempt to hinder Kiacyl, so he walked with them, a large silent group, down the halls and to the docks.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 34 - An Unexpected Meeting

2010-08-06T20:56:00.000-04:00

It had been a full nineteen days since the capture of the boys. The eight who worked willingly had all but ceased to speak of returning home. They worked each day without argument and met each night for a time of fellowship together. It was the same, day after day. It was, therefore, rather strange when they were all called together late one morning with no explanation offered.

Kandryl had sent for them: all of them. They were brought together in a small room in the medical section to wait for orders. None knew what was going to happen. There was quiet conversation and speculation as they waited.

Very soon a medic entered the room and told them that Kandryl was ready. The boys were then led together into a medical room. Eriane gasped and drew back as he recognized the room. He had never been inside of it, but he knew it well enough by sight. In the center was a medical bed, and at the foot of this bed was a squarish device. The boys had entered from the back of the room and stood now facing the bed, nearest the foot.

"No, no," said Eriane softly, trying to back away.

"Djaisiuk!" cried Sandy in surprise and joy.

The other boys looked up and saw Djaisiuk sitting on a tall stool at the left hand side of the medical bed, facing the bed. His eyes were lowered and his shoulders drooped. He did not look up as they entered, and it seemed to them that his usually emotionless face was very pale and was laced with a touch of sadness or hopelessness, though it was difficult to tell which. His left side was facing them, and Eriane's trained eye immediately detected something definitely wrong in both the way that Djaisiuk's left arm hung limply at his side and in the lack of color in his face; Djaisiuk's breathing too, and the whole way in which he sat indicated that something more was wrong than immediately met the eye. Wysire too looked quite concerned upon seeing Djaisiuk's strange expression. Eriane stepped forward cautiously.

"Djaisiuk?" he began. "What--"

Before he could finish, two doors, one at the front of the room, in front of the boys, and one near the back of the room, to the left of the boys, opened at almost the same time. Through the front door, the one facing the boys, Kandryl entered. Through the rear door, four guards entered, leading Christopher and Faquire.

The boys were startled but overjoyed at seeing one another, and, to their surprise, the guards made no attempt to restrain the two prisoners from interacting with the other boys. Exclamations of joy and inquiries about health and well-being were quickly exchanged. The guards retreated to the very back of the room, and left the boys standing in a group, a few feet from the foot of the medical bed which sat in the middle of the room.

Kandryl gave the boys a minute or two to converse before interrupting them. He stepped forward to stand on the opposite side of the bed from Djaisiuk in front of what Eriane knew to be the controls for the horrible little device and looked at the group of boys before him.

"Doubtless you are wondering why you are here," said Kandryl. The boys grew silent immediately and looked up at him. "You are here to help me, if you will, and to suffer the consequences, if you will not."

Kandryl's voice was slightly lower than the free boys were accustomed to hearing. Danger seemed to hang in the air, and they all felt it. They waited quietly and expectantly for they knew not what.

"Your friend Djaisiuk," continued Kandryl, turning to look at Djaisiuk as he spoke, "has disobeyed orders. He has broken into an area in which he had no business, and there, it is believed, he has performed some sabotage. He now refuses to tell us what he has done."

The boys looked at Djaisiuk, and Kandryl could see that their astonishment was unfeigned (although he was very displeased to see admiration as well in several of their faces). Faquire alone did not look surprised, for he had already known this. The others, however, obviously did not know what to think. Djaisiuk had been working for the Vukasovians willingly, they had thought. They would never have expected any action of the kind that Kandryl now described from him.

Realization seemed to dawn on both Eriane and Wysire as they looked at Djaisiuk, though in different ways for each.

"What have you done to him?!" demanded Eriane angrily.

Most of the other boys looked at Eriane in surprise, but Kandryl merely ignored him.

"This is where I need your assistance," continued Kandryl. "You will convince him to tell me what I wish to know. This you will do of your own accord or by other chosen means. Which do you prefer?"

Kandryl paused and looked at each of them in turn. The boys looked from Kandryl to Djaisiuk for a moment. Eriane looked furious, and Wysire began to look far more concerned than he had earlier.

"No one questions Djaisiuk," said Jaeger at last. "If he doesn't want to tell you something, then there's nothing that we can do or say to change his mind."

"And we wouldn't want to either," said Faquire sharply. "If he's done something against you, then I say, 'good for him!' I'll not help you to get information out of him."

"Oh, you will help me," purred Kandryl. "Have no doubt on that score. I only asked whether you would help willingly or unwillingly."

Kandryl raised a hand and motioned to two of the guards. He then pointed to Jaeger, and the guards took hold of him to lead him forward.

"Your friend Eriane has, no doubt, told you about this place," Kandryl continued as the guards led Jaeger to the medical bed.

"Stop!" interrupted Eriane, seeing now what Kandryl meant to do. "Please! He'd help you if he could, but he's right. None of us could convince Djaisiuk to tell you something that he doesn't want to tell you, no matter what we said. Jaeger's not being rebellious; he's only being honest."

"What do you intend to do to me?" Jaeger asked Kandryl. His voice was almost angry now and not a bit fearful.

"I have told you already," said Kandryl. "You will help me, indeed all of you will help me, to learn what I wish to know. This machine, with which you may not be familiar, is very well known to Djaisiuk. He will know the pain that you feel, and he will have the option to end your pain at any time that he chooses. If he will but tell me what I want to know, then all of you will be able to go back to your work. If not, than you will each feel what this device is capable of inflicting, starting with the oldest," Kandryl, looking at Jaeger through this speech, now turned slowly to look over the other boys, his eyes coming to rest at last on Sandy, "and ending with the youngest."

Jaeger struggled suddenly, but the guards, ready for this, held him fast.

"Let them go!" said Jaeger sharply to Kandryl. "You've no right to be frightening the little ones like this. They've served you willingly; let them go! Keep me here, if you must, and do what you like to me, but I won't let you do this to the younger ones."

Kandryl smiled menacingly at him. "Then convince your friend to tell me what I wish to know, and you will all go free."

Jaeger turned to look at Djaisiuk silently for a moment, but Djaisiuk did not move. For a moment they remained thus, then Kandryl motioned to the guards to proceed. Jaeger no longer struggled as the guards forced him onto the table and strapped him to it. The medic who had led the free boys into the room prepared Jaeger's foot for the device. Jaeger continued to watch Djaisiuk silently through all of this, but Djaisiuk did not look up. He sat now less than two feet from Jaeger's left hand, but he seemed perfectly oblivious to anything and everything else in the room.

One of the guards returned to his place at the back of the room, but the other walked over to the group of boys again. This one took Eriane by the arm and led him to stand before the controls of the device. Eriane pulled back with a cry.

"No!" he exclaimed. "No, you can't expect me to do this! I won't!"

Kandryl stepped forward again to stand at Jaeger's right hand, positioning himself between Eriane and the medical bed.

"You may also talk to your friend Djaisiuk," said Kandryl. "If he relents, then you will be forced to do nothing."

Eriane looked across the bed at Djaisiuk, then looked up again at Kandryl. "I . . . I can't," he said softly. "Even if I wanted to do so, I couldn't."

"Try," said Kandryl.

"No," said Eriane, swallowing.

"Then begin," said Kandryl roughly.

Eriane shook his head half-fearfully. "I won't," he said.

Without a word, Kandryl picked up a small hand-held device from a table and turned and pressed the tip to Jaeger's neck. Jaeger gave a short cry as a strong electric shock was administered. Kandryl turned immediately back to Eriane.

"This," he said, holding up the device, "need not be employed. That," he pointed to the device encasing Jaeger's right foot, "will be. If you refuse to operate it, they will both be employed; if you obey, he need not suffer this one again."

Eriane looked from Kandryl to Jaeger to Djaisiuk and back, tears starting to form in his eyes. "Please don't make me do this," he whispered.

Kandryl turned again and lifted his hand to Jaeger's neck.

"Eriane, just do it!" cried Jaeger, before Kandryl could touch him again.

Kandryl stopped and smiled. He turned to look at Eriane and raised an eyebrow expectantly. Eriane, biting back tears of anger and shame, turned to the controls with trembling hands and began the procedure.

Jaeger was strong; he had been raised a hunter, living in the wild, as much as there was on Komislava. When he had first joined the IC School at age twelve, he had prided himself on his muscular, athletic form and had done all that he could to maintain it throughout his training. Now, after seven years of study and a life spent mostly indoors or on a ship, he was still as strong and wiry, although much more grown, than he had been at twelve when he had first joined. Indeed, on his visits home to his father's house, he had always impressed his younger half-brothers and sisters with his strength and bearing, so unlike any of the other students that they had known. Creole had been strong as well, not so much by choice as by necessity, because of his occupation on the ship. Jaeger, however, by far surpassed Creole. Because of this, he found himself better able to bear the torture to which he was now subjected than even Creole had done. He took the first several needles with scarcely so much as a flinch.

Eriane had, at first, been unable to watch. He had stood with his head down and eyes closed, hating himself for having helped to create this horrible device, and even more for now being the one forced to cause the pain being inflicted. He could hear the needles shooting out and penetrating, but there were no corresponding gasps or cries from Jaeger. At last Eriane did look up and saw that Jaeger lay still, face set, eyes closed, and muscles taunt, refusing to show any signs of pain. Eriane watched in awe.

The other boys (excepting Faquire) had heard of the device through Eriane, but had never expected to see it. Faquire alone among them had experienced it and could truly sympathize with what Jaeger was feeling. Jade understood Jaeger better than did the other boys, and he alone was not surprised at how well Jaeger controlled himself through it all. Even Kandryl was surprised at Jaeger's strength. He was, however, careful to conceal this surprise.

"You care nothing for your friend's pain?" asked Kandryl, stepping over to stand beside Djaisiuk. "You don't even look at him. Perhaps you care only for yourself?"

Djaisiuk had not looked up since the boys had entered, and even now he did not move. Apart from his slow, painful breathing (which was a little more audible than normal), he might have been carved from stone. His expression had not changed. When Kandryl thus drew attention to him, several of the other boys turned to look at him, questioning with their eyes, though not with their lips, why he would not speak, and whether it was possible that anything could be so important a secret as to allow this to continue rather than to tell it. Wysire alone turned away, unable to watch either Jaeger or Djaisiuk, understanding fully Kandryl's intentions and fearing for the result that they might produce on Djaisiuk as much as on any of the others. He wondered what emotional damage might already have been done. Djaisiuk had been able to heal Faquire when he had been hurt, but who would be able to heal Djaisiuk if he needed healing?

Soon enough, the procedure had finished. Jaeger had not uttered a cry, though his face had paled slightly. He let out a breath then, and, for the next minute or two, he breathed a little deeper than was normal for him. He did not yet open his eyes. Eriane caused the needles to be withdrawn and leapt forward to tend to Jaeger's foot. The medic had already come forward, both to ready the device for its next use and to tend to Jaeger, but Eriane firmly intervened with the latter task.

"No," he said sternly. "If you will force me to inflict the injury, then you will at least allow me to treat it!"

Kandryl smiled, amused, as if at a child's eccentricity, and motioned the medic to stand aside. Eriane saw the look and hated him for it. He said nothing, however, but quickly cleaned and sealed Jaeger's foot while two of the guards unfastened the restraints. Jaeger was then allowed to replace his shoe and walk back to the other boys. This he did without a wince or a limp; he held his head high, still refusing to show any pain.

Without a word, the guards then took hold of Jade and led him forward.

"I'm afraid you'll put me to shame, Jaeger," said Jade, smiling nervously as he was strapped to the table. "I know that I'm not quite as strong as you are."

Jade was already a little pale as the medic carefully positioned his foot in the device. Eriane stepped back to his assigned position, but could not take his eyes from Jade. When the medic finished and stepped away, Eriane still hesitated. It was not until Kandryl stepped forward towards the table that Eriane pulled his eyes away and began the procedure anew.

Jade uttered a cry of pain with the first needle. He tried hard to stifle the second cry, but only partially succeeded. Jaeger, heedless of Kandryl's frown, stepped quickly forward to stand at Jade's left hand, between Djaisiuk and the bed. He took Jade's left hand in his own left and placed his right hand on Jade's shoulder. Jade looked up at him gratefully, but closed his eyes again suddenly as the next needle entered him.

"Djaisiuk," said Jaeger quietly, not looking at him, "I know that we're not to question you, but please assure me that this is truly necessary. Please tell me now, before this goes any farther."

Djaisiuk still did not move or speak, and Jaeger did not turn to look at him. He continued to stand, still holding Jade's hand, his face growing darker. Jade, unused to pain and not as strong of will or body as his friend, continued to gasp or to cry out with each new puncture.

"Send them away, please!" Jade begged between needles. "Kandryl, please send the others away! They don't need to see this!"

"No, but it is good for them to see it," said Kandryl. "Remember that should your friend not be moved by your own cries, it may be that he shall be moved by theirs. Let them see what fate awaits them if he should not relent."

Jaeger's head snapped up suddenly, and he glared at Kandryl.

"Stop that thing, Eriane," he ordered. "Turn it off now!"

Eriane hesitated only a moment, looking to see Kandryl's reaction, then swiftly stopped the machine. Kandryl did not look at Eriane, but stepped forward, looking only at Jaeger, towards the left side of the bed where Jaeger stood.

"Let them go," said Jaeger quietly but firmly. "They have served you without question or argument; they've done everything that you've ever asked of them, and this is how you repay them?"

Kandryl motioned towards Djaisiuk, his expression calm. "If they care to exercise what influence they may have--" he began, but Jaeger did not let him finish.

"Djaisiuk will do as he pleases!" exclaimed Jaeger angrily. "If he has chosen to conceal something from you, then nothing that we say or do and nothing that you may choose to do to us will change his mind! You had nine willing workers and one who disobeyed. If you go on with this, you'll still be in the same place as far as Djaisiuk goes, but you'll no longer have the nine workers that you once did. Continue this -- this torture, and you'll lose at least one and maybe more of your nine workers just as surely, for I swear that I'll never serve you again if you continue this atrocity. And if you attempt to subject any of the younger ones to this device of horror, I'll kill you with my own hands!"

Through all of this speech, Kandryl's calm expression did not falter. He stood now immediately in front of Jaeger, quite close to Jade. Kandryl looked Jaeger in the eye as if daring him to attempt something. Finally he turned to Eriane and ordered him to continue. Eriane looked from Kandryl to Jaeger, unsure of what to do.

Kandryl lifted his right hand towards Jade's neck, holding out the electrical device. Jaeger's left hand leapt forward and caught Kandryl's hand by the wrist, holding it a few inches above Jade. Two of the guards started to step forward but stopped, unsure of what to do for Kandryl did not look at them. Kandryl and Jaeger looked one another in the eye, a real battle of wills silently being fought between them. Both were strong, and neither was willing to back down. At last, Kandryl reached across with his left hand, took the device out of his imprisoned right hand, and pressed it suddenly to Jaeger's wrist. Jaeger, not having expected this, let go immediately with a short cry and grasped his left wrist in his right hand. Without a pause, Kandryl passed the device back into his right hand and pressed it to Jade's neck. Jade then cried out as well as the pain of the shock entered his neck and spread quickly through the left side of his face and his left shoulder.

It seemed to those standing there that something snapped in Jaeger then. He pulled his right hand back in a fist and swung hard. He hit Kandryl squarely in the left side of the jaw, just as Kandryl was turning back to look at him. Kandryl was thrown sideways from the force of the blow and fell over Jade. The two guards hesitated no longer but jumped forward immediately and grabbed hold of Jaeger. Jaeger did not struggle, but watched silently as Kandryl lifted himself from the bed and put a hand to his mouth. It came away with blood on it. He looked up at Jaeger darkly.

"You shouldn't have done that," said Kandryl coldly. His voice was altered somewhat as if it was almost difficult to shape words, and, as he spoke, Jaeger, who was still very near to him, could see that two of his teeth on the top left of his jaw had been knocked out.

The medic had come quickly up to Kandryl, holding a scanner which he lifted to Kandryl's face for a moment.

"There's some damage," he said quietly. "May I suggest, sir, that you come away to have it treated?"

Kandryl had not looked away from Jaeger. "I could have you killed for this," he said quietly.

Jaeger did not answer. He continued to look at Kandryl threateningly. He suddenly realized that Djaisiuk, sitting there at his right elbow, had raised his head and had been watching. As soon as Jaeger turned to look at him, however, Djaisiuk again lowered his gaze to stare at the floor. None could have guessed how fervently Djaisiuk was praying just then. Jaeger turned and looked at Kandryl again.
"Lock him in a cell," said Kandryl to the guards. "I'll deal with him later."

All eyes in the room were on Jaeger and Kandryl, so none noticed as Djaisiuk closed his eyes and gave a silent sigh, as if in relief. He reopened his eyes almost immediately and did not move otherwise.

Kandryl then turned and walked out of the room, followed by the medic. The two guards began to lead Jaeger towards the door at the back of the room, but as soon as the door at the front of the room closed behind Kandryl, Jaeger suddenly sprang to life. He lifted his good left foot and kicked one of the guards hard in the knee. That guard loosened his grip and bent forward a little in pain. Jaeger ripped his left arm free and turned to land another strong punch square in the face of the second guard. The two remaining guards at the back of the room sprang forward.

"Leil! Christopher!" shouted Jaeger. "Take them!'

"Jaeger, what are you doing?" cried Detrin, but Jaeger was past hearing. His blood was hot now, and he was not about to submit. He had turned to administer another blow to the other guard and soon laid them both flat on the floor. He then jumped forward to help Christopher who had attacked one of the two remaining guards.

Leil had not moved, but stood looking dazed. Faquire, however, had leapt forward unasked to assist Christopher in delaying the other two guards from reaching Jaeger. He had struck the first guard in the stomach, but, not being full grown or especially muscular, he had done little real damage. The guard had responded by striking a blow to Faquire on the side of the head, using the butt of his gun, and Faquire fell.

Christopher was assistant to Creole and strong in his own right, and, though not yet quite as tall as the oldest boys, he was nearly full stature and had, therefore, more weight behind his own blows than did Faquire. He held his own very well for the moment or two that it took for Jaeger to reach him.

The guards were well equipped with guns, but they had been sternly warned from the time that the boys had first arrived that none were to be killed; the guns were only for show and intimidation. Now, though they could not be used for their designed purpose, they made rather handy clubs. The guard who had used his to strike Faquire found it a most satisfactory weapon. Satisfactory, that is, until he tried to use it so on Jaeger. Jaeger came toward him and the guard swung his gun at Jaeger's head. Jaeger, rather than attempting to duck or to move out of the way, lifted his hands and actually caught the gun mid-swing. The guard was startled at the obvious strength in this young man as Jaeger slowly turned the gun, twisting it from the guard's hands. Jaeger then raised the weapon himself and laid the guard such a blow than he was rendered unconscious before the astonishment had even left his face.

The fourth guard was as easily dispatched, and the few bruises that Christopher had sustained were quickly judged not dangerous. Eriane had rushed forward to see to Faquire who was now sitting up and shaking his head, looking a bit dazed though still defiant. Jaeger turned back to the medical table and called to Eriane.

"Get those needles out of him," said Jaeger, walking purposefully up to the table and beginning to undo the restraints holding Jade. "After that, give those four something that'll keep them out for a while, if there's anything here that'll work for the purpose."

Eriane moved quickly to obey. The other boys looked around at one another, none seeming to know what to do or say.

"Jaeger, what have you done?" asked Jade.

"I've shown Kandryl that he can treat us only so badly before we will revolt," said Jaeger. "As for myself, I intend to leave this place today or to die trying. I'll not stay another night in this den of horror." He finished unbinding Jade and turned back to the other boys, leaving Eriane in charge of tending to Jade's foot. He bent and lifted the guns of the two guards that he had first attacked and also the one that he had wrested from the third.

"We have arms now," he said. "Anyone who wishes may join me, though I assure you that our dying is much more likely than our escaping."

Christopher immediately stooped and picked up the fourth gun. "I'll follow you," he said.

"So will I," said Faquire, stepping forward and taking one of the guns from Jaeger. "If I'm going to die, then I intend to take a good many of these Vukasovian dogs with me."

"We're not cold-blooded killers," said Jaeger. "I don't mind killing in self-defense, but this isn't about revenge."

"It isn't for you," muttered Faquire.

"Faquire," admonished Wysire. "You need to keep your self-control. Surely you don't believe that you can simply go out there and kill every Vukasovian that you see without compunction."

"You haven't been their prisoner," retorted Faquire. "Yes, I do believe that I can."

The other boys looked at Faquire in surprise. Wysire, however, maintained a calm expression.

"Then kill these four now," he said, pointing to the four guards lying unconscious on the floor. "If you just want to see every Vukasovian dead, then start with these helpless four in front of you."

Faquire looked at him defiantly then turned and pointed his gun down at the nearest guard. Jaeger reached forward quickly and snatched the gun from Faquire's hands.

"Faquire!" Jaeger remonstrated. "What's wrong with you?"

Faquire still looked recalcitrant, but he said nothing.

"Jaeger, if you mean to attempt escape, I'll come with you," said Jade. "We'll never have another chance after today. If we move now, why can't we attempt to carry out our original plans?"

"Can we get a ship?" asked Detrin.

"We can try to take ours," replied Jaeger. "I know that the chances of success are practically nonexistent, but I'll take them."

"But Creole!" exclaimed Christopher. "We can't leave him! And we don't know where he is."

"I do," said Wysire softly. "I can lead you there, though the chances of freeing him are probably the same as those of retaking our ship."

Eriane had just finished administering some drug to the fallen guards and turned now to Djaisiuk.

"Djaisiuk, may I examine you?" he asked, picking up a scanner off of one of the counters and stepping towards Djaisiuk.

Djaisiuk glanced at him and shook his head silently.

Eriane gasped as he stepped in front of him. "What have they done to you?!" he exclaimed, looking down now at Djaisiuk's right leg which hung in a frightening manner down the far side of the tall chair, out of sight of the other boys.

Eriane had turned on the scanner and now lowered himself onto one knee bringing the scanner close to Djaisiuk's leg. Djaisiuk, however, carefully leaned forward, wincing as his left arm slipped forward, and extended his right hand and placed it over the scanner. Eriane stopped and looked up at him.

Slowly, Djaisiuk shook his head.

"Djaisiuk, please let me see if there is anything that I can do," pleaded Eriane.

Djaisiuk did not reply. Eriane looked at him for a long moment, then powered down the scanner. Slowly he rose to his feet.

"We can't escape," he said, turning to the others. "Or if we do, Djaisiuk can't come. Even though he won't let me examine him, I can tell you judging by sight alone that he's not going to be able even to stand, let alone walk or run, for a very long time. Even if I had all of the necessary equipment here to treat him, it'd take several hours before he could be moved without great pain."

"What have they done to him?" asked Leil quietly.

Eriane shook his head and shuddered slightly. "I don't even want to imagine," he murmured.

Just at that moment, the door at the front of the room opened. The boys froze and looked towards the door. The medic from earlier had returned. He stopped short on seeing the strange state of things -- the four guards lying unconscious or dead on the floor and their guns in the hands of the Komislavian boys -- then turned quickly and rushed out of the room again, closing the door behind him. Jaeger leapt forward and rushed to the front of the room.

"Jade; Leil," he called as he went, "check those other two doors."

Jade and Leil did as they were bid, but all of the doors in the room were sealed.

"We can't get out," exclaimed Jade.

"We're trapped!" cried Faquire. "And he'll go now and tell Kandryl or summon more guards. It's too late! We've waited for too long. Now there's nothing that we can do."

"We may not be trapped," said Jaeger quietly.

The other boys looked at him puzzled, but Jaeger did not explain. He turned and walked over to stand in front of Djaisiuk. The latter still did not raise his eyes.

"Djaisiuk, we need you," he said. "I know that you must be in a lot of pain right now. I understand that you can't walk, but you could be carried. I know that this would be excruciating for you, but would you not be willing to attempt it? You're the only one who could get us out of here now. Please tell me, will you help us?"

Very slowly, Djaisiuk raised his head and looked Jaeger in the eye. His face wore a pained expression, and Jaeger was suddenly aware of what seemed an incredible amount of stress in Djaisiuk's face. Still moving slowly, Djaisiuk shook his head slightly.

"Wait," he said in very hoarse and trembling voice.

The boys looked at him silently for a moment, then looked around at each other with confused glances.

"Wait for what?" asked Wysire at last.

No sooner had the words left his mouth then the door at the front of the room opened again. An officer of high rank entered the room and surveyed the boys. Behind him in the hall they could see a large group of soldiers. The officer's eyebrows rose slightly as he noticed the fallen guards.

"I should very much like to know what has happened here," he said calmly, still looking over the scene before him, "but that is not my current business. I am here to see that the twelve Komislavian students are taken safely to their quarters to gather what belongings they may have in preparation for returning to their home planet."

"Returning home?" stammered Cycil. "We're going home?"

"A Komislavian ship has been sent to fetch you," stated the officer, looking now at Cycil. "Both it and its crew await now in the docks for all of you. As I said, I am here to escort you safely to them."

The boys stared at him open-mouthed for a moment, then Eriane cried out.

"Djaisiuk!" he exclaimed, rushing forward.

Djaisiuk had lost consciousness.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 33 - An Acrostic

2010-08-05T22:55:00.000-04:00

The morning of the nineteenth day found Kandryl growing more and more frustrated and concerned with the passing time. He still did not know how Djaisiuk had managed to access the external controls. He did not know what the strange program was designed to do nor when it would do it. They had, in the very early hours of the morning, finally found a small bit of evidence that had securely linked Djaisiuk's unauthorized access to the strange program. Kandryl had then concentrated all of their efforts on discovering exactly what this program was intended to do. The writing process within the program was nearly inextricable; it was constantly changing, and no one could yet predict what it would do next. Several workers were still working on it constantly.

In the meantime, Drayl had been unable to draw any more information from Djaisiuk than an admission that he had written the incriminating code. Drayl had indicated that he expected to be able to learn more, given time, but Kandryl also knew that every hour Djaisiuk spent under Drayl's control was a great risk to Djaisiuk's life. Moru had also suggested a few more techniques to try, and Kandryl was still considering these. Again and again the question came back to time. How much time did he have? The program may finish at any time, and then would the hold still secure it?

The door to his small office opened to admit the officer in charge of studying the strange program. His expression looked pleased but uncertain.

"Sir, I believe that we've been able to break the coding of the program," he said. "We think that we now know exactly what it was designed to do, though we are still unsure about its purpose."

Kandryl frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked. "What is it designed to do?"

"It will complete its work of writing itself in less than two days, or in about thirty-nine hours, to be exact," the officer replied. "It somehow keeps a record of everyone who has worked on researching it, and, once it has finished, it will send each of them some sort of message. If it finds that no one has studied it, it will simply erase itself. Indeed, after it has sent its . . . missive, it will then too erase itself."

"What?" asked Kandryl, his frown deepening. "That makes no sense."

"I know, sir, and that is why I say that we think that we know," replied the officer, somewhat uncertainly. "If the answer were different, then I would say that I was certain, for I do not doubt our work; but the conclusion makes no sense."

"Have you a copy of the message that it supposed to send?" asked Kandryl.

"Yes, sir," said the officer. He drew out a sheet of paper on which were some printed lines, and he handed this to Kandryl. "I don't know whether it is simply Komislavian humor or something darker, but it seems to make no sense. I can't tell whether it is a taunt or a riddle or something different altogether."

Kandryl accepted the sheet of paper and read:

Read Ye Well And
Enter In
Do Not Fear
How I Will Win
Examine Closely
Return Again
Remember Lest
I Come Back Then
Now The Game Is At An End
Gamble With Me, And You'll Lose, My Friend

Kandryl's face grew dark as he read the strange lines. The insolence was unbelievable! Kandryl had previously been pleased with the seeming Vukasovian tendencies shown in Djaisiuk, but now that this same formerly admirable trait was being used to taunt Kandryl himself, it was no longer amusing. But what did the lines mean? This was either a strange riddle or the ramblings of a mind that had taken leave of its moorings; that was obvious. It was not like anything that he would have expected from Djaisiuk. But, then again, what could one ever expect from Djaisiuk other than the unexpected? There was meaning behind the words, surely, but what was it? He stared hard at the lines, oblivious of the officer standing silently before him, and read them again and again.

Before a full minute had passed, a slow transformation came over Kandryl's face. The confusion and frustration all melted away to give way first to understanding and then quickly to fury. Standing suddenly to his feet, he snatched up the paper, crumpled it in one hand, and threw it violently across the room. The officer took a quick step back, obviously intimidated by the fury blazing in Kandryl's eyes.

"You may go!" snapped Kandryl, his voice hoarse as he tried to hold his emotions in check.

The officer did not wait to ask questions. He saluted quickly as he turned and left the room.

Kandryl seated himself again, pressing his hands against the desk. Djaisiuk had defied him for the last time. This was insupportable. So Djaisiuk wanted to play with him, did he? So be it; Djaisiuk would learn what it meant to compete on a Vukasovian playing field. Kandryl would have the information that he wanted at any cost. Djaisiuk would divulge the information today, or he would not live to see tomorrow. All tactics would be employed: mental and physical. Whatever suggestion either of the two doctors might have would be tried. Thirty-nine hours, was it, until the program was to complete? Well, Djaisiuk had now eighteen hours in which to tell Kandryl what he wished to know or to know that he would never tell anyone anything again.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 32 - Further Interrogations

2010-08-04T23:56:00.000-04:00

That day was a living nightmare for Djaisiuk. I will not attempt to relate what he experienced, but suffice it to say that no information was gained by any of the means that Drayl could provide on short notice and that were approved by Kandryl. At the end of the day, Djaisiuk was taken again to the small holding cell. When he entered, his eyes fell upon the heaped wreckage of his instrument. He closed his eyes immediately, understanding that Kandryl had had it moved here to provide a continued emotional torment during the times that the physical torment was halted.

Stretching himself out carefully (and painfully) on his small cot, Djaisiuk tried to sleep. His lungs hurt when he breathed; at least one and possibly more of his ribs were broken; his left arm was completely immobile, and it caused him no small amount of pain. These and the fact that the light in the room was never extinguished worked together to make sleep very difficult for Djaisiuk. When at last he did fall asleep, he slept fitfully, and every time he opened his eyes he could see the mass of broken brown and white pieces there scattered about the floor. The night seemed interminable. Even so, when, in the morning, a guard brought a small meal to him, Djaisiuk could think only of the fact that his brief reprieve was now ended; the previous day would now begin again.

Djaisiuk ate the small meal, and the guard led him from the cell. Djaisiuk still made no resistance, but the guard was a little more rough with him today. This could have been simply because he was unable to move as quickly as easily now, Djaisiuk considered.

As they entered the medical ward and continued down a few familiar hallways, Djaisiuk began to guess their destination. Sure enough, they continued straight onward to a room which he had entered before. Djaisiuk inwardly sighed with relief as he recognized the room. There was a medical bed in the center of the room with a small, square device at the right side of the foot of the bed. He knew now what to expect, but it confused him. This would certainly be far gentler a punishment than yesterday. He had expected that today would be just as bad, if not worse. Why would Kandryl wish to lighten the pain?

Kandryl was there. He stood, looking over the preparations of the coming procedure. He looked up as Djaisiuk entered and smiled cruelly.

"Welcome," he said, approaching Djaisiuk. "I'm sure that you recognise this room. Do you remember why you are here?"

Djaisiuk returned Kandryl's gaze emotionlessly for a moment before lowering his eyes to the floor. He thought that he was prepared for whatever they had to offer. But something in Kandryl's bearing confused him; something was wrong.

Kandryl motioned to the guard, and the latter led Djaisiuk to the medical bed.

"I will not stop until you tell me what it is that I want to know," said Kandryl. "You can save yourself much pain by simply telling me now. Does it not seem to you a waste to continue thus when it is plain that you must, eventually, relent?"

Djaisiuk ignored him now. Kandryl simply smiled. He motioned to a medic who brought a tall chair to him. This chair was then positioned next to the left-hand side of the bed, close enough to it that the person sitting could easily reach out and touch the face of the victim strapped there. Kandryl stepped back and motioned Djaisiuk to sit.

Djaisiuk glanced up at Kandryl and his blood ran cold as realization came. Suddenly he wished that yesterday could be relived today rather than what Kandryl apparently had planned. Physical pain was so much easier to bear than emotional, simply because the body provided a means of escape if the pain became too great. With emotional pain, it was not so; there was no natural relief for emotional pain. Absolute madness was the only outlet to which the mind would eventually turn if its own pain grew too great to withstand, and sickness of the mind was the one thing that Djaisiuk feared above all physical injuries. And to witness another person suffering for his own actions was the worst form of emotional torment that Djaisiuk could imagine.

The door opened again to admit two guards leading a second boy.

It was Creole.

Creole had been looking around himself and had not noticed Djaisiuk at first. When he did, he sprang forward with a cry of joy, but guards quickly caught hold of him and pulled him back roughly.

"Djaisiuk," exclaimed Creole, seeming to ignore the guards' interference, "how are you? I've wondered how you were. Do please tell me that you're not really serving them willingly. I'm afraid you may upset my mental balance considerably if you say that you are. You're not, are you?"

Djaisiuk looked at Creole, and, though few of the other observers could see any more than the slightest, almost imperceptible, changes in Djaisiuk's face, Creole breathed a light sigh of relief.

"Oh, I am so glad," he said with a smile. "You can't imagine how relieved I am. They kept telling me that you were, but I never believed it from the start. Although what happened to you?" This last exclamation came with a look of concern as Creole seemed to notice Djaisiuk's left arm, hanging in a rather unnatural position.

The guards had paid no heed to the one-sided conversation and simply moved Creole forward to the bed. Djaisiuk had said nothing, and he lowered his eyes again as Kandryl came forward.

"You know well what we are going to do," said Kandryl, looking at Djaisiuk. "I will ask, and each time you do not answer, a needle will be placed. You did not last above six needles before losing consciousness, but I assure you--"

"Do you mean to say that you submitted Djaisiuk to whatever torture it is to which you now intent to submit me?!" interrupted Creole as the guards strapped him to the medical bed. "You truly are a beast! I know that he didn't submit to you though."

Kandryl ignored him and continued. "I assure you, this one will last many more. You will decide exactly how much he will be forced to endure."

Creole rolled his eyes at this speech and sighed audibly. "Must you be so melodramatic?" he asked. "If you have something that you intend to do, then do it."

"Oh, we will proceed," said Kandryl smoothly, turning now to Creole. "You need have no fear of that. Your friend, for all his intelligence is both stubborn and selfish, and I do not believe that simple threats of violence to those for whom he cares will move him to compliance. Perhaps, however, when he is able to witness your pain first-hand, he may--"

"Your arguments are truly pitiable," interrupted Creole. "If Djaisiuk knows me at all, then he knows that it would be far worse torture to me for him to submit to you out of concern for me than would be anything that you could do to me. So if you truly think that I will help you to draw information from him, you are sorely mistaken."

"We shall see," was Kandryl's only reply, then he turned to oversee the last of the preparations.

Creole tried to move his left arm but found it bound too tightly.

"Djaisiuk," he said. "I cannot move, but would you grant me a great favor? Would you take my hand?"

Djaisiuk looked Creole in the eye and turned slightly so as to place his right hand in Creole's. Djaisiuk's left hand was closer, but, as was mentioned earlier, he could no longer move his left arm. Creole, noticing this, looked at him for a moment in concern, but Djaisiuk's gaze seemed to reassure him. Creole then smiled.

"Djaisiuk, I don't care what they plan to do to me," said Creole firmly, pressing Djaisiuk's hand and looking Djaisiuk in the eye. "I don't want you to give in to them on account of me. That would be harder for me to bear than any pain that they can inflict. Please don't compromise because of me."

The preparations were soon finished, and Kandryl turned again to Djaisiuk.

"Tell me, Djaisiuk," began Kandryl, "what the purpose was for the cancerous program which you implanted?"

Djaisiuk did not answer, and the first needle shot out and into Creole's foot. Creole flinched as the needle entered, and Kandryl was very pleased to see that Djaisiuk flinched as well. So he did feel his friend's pain, Kandryl thought. He opened his mouth to make a comment, but Creole spoke first.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Djaisiuk," said Creole quickly. "I forgot that I was still holding your hand. Have I hurt you?"

Djaisiuk did not answer verbally, but his look (emotionless though it appeared to all else in the room) seemed to comfort Creole.

Kandryl was quite irritated. Djaisiuk had not flinched from emotional pain but from physical: Creole, clenching his fists in the first shock of pain, had doubtless squeezed Djaisiuk's hand uncomfortably hard. Creole was, after all, a strong young man. Creole had realized immediately that he had hurt Djaisiuk and let go the hand quickly. Djaisiuk, however, did not draw back his hand.

"Tell me what you intended to do," said Kandryl to Djaisiuk, his voice low and displaying the slightest edge of anger.

Djaisiuk did not look at Kandryl or respond, and a second needle entered. Creole was careful not to close his hand on Djaisiuk's this time. He was glad for the touch, and he did not want Djaisiuk to draw his hand away, but he certainly did not want to hurt him again.

The command was again repeated and a third needle entered. Creole began to look annoyed. A fourth entered. A fifth. After the sixth, Creole sighed, somewhat impatiently.

"Really, is this all the more that you plan to do?" he asked. "You may as well stop asking your ridiculous questions and just finish with me." He flinched again as another needle entered, for Kandryl chose to ignore Creole and to continue asking, whether the latter spoke or not. Creole, seeing this, felt no qualms about continuing his monologue as the torture progressed. He voiced somewhat of his pain now, finding it easier to interrupt himself with exclamations than with gasps.

"Ouch," he said. "Yes, they are starting to hurt again now, -- ouch! -- but really I don't mind. The only reason why Djaisiuk would answer you, would be to -- ah! -- to stop you from hurting me. But really, it -- ouch! that was a good one -- would hurt me far more if he -- ah! -- if he were to give in to your manipulations. I don't want -- ow! -- I don't want him to tell you anything, so it's really only wasting your time to -- ouch! -- to continue to demand it of him in exchange for -- ouch -- my own personal comfort."

Kandryl still ignored Creole. The first side was finished, and the second side was already well underway, but Djaisiuk showed no signs of relenting. He sat silently, staring down at the floor, refusing to show any sign of emotion.

Creole, on the other hand, seemed almost to be enjoying himself. Of all of the boys, he was the second-best to have been chosen to undergo this physical abuse. Jaeger, having been raised almost in the wild, could endure nearly incredible pain without flinching. Creole, though he had been raised on a farm, had lived most of his life indoors at the IC School. Even so, both from his specialty being engines and from his natural foolhardy nature with regard to physical activities, he had become quite strong for his age, and many were the injuries for which Eriane had had to treat him in the past. He was one not unaccustomed to pain; he could endure it. So it was that he was still in complete control of himself when all twenty needles had been placed. He was, perhaps, breathing a very little bit heavier than usual, and there may have been some sweat on his forehead, but all in all, he seemed quite himself even after this whole affair.

Kandryl was angry. Moru had chosen poorly, it was obvious, in this boy. Moru had learned that this one was closest to Djaisiuk in an emotional sense of all the boys, hence he had suggested that this one would be the one most likely to move Djaisiuk to a confession. Kandryl had simply wanted one with a good tolerance for pain, so that he would be able to endure much without fainting. But he had not wanted one who could endure it all and still smile at the end. All this time had, indeed, been wasted.

Kandryl stepped forward to stand over Djaisiuk.

"I can see that this boy's sufferings have not loosened your tongue," he began, but he was interrupted by a laugh.

"Say rather," laughed Creole, "that you have failed miserably, you sorry excuse for an officer."

Kandryl turned and slapped Creole hard across the face, relieving somewhat of his pent-up frustration in the act.

"Oh, ow!" cried Creole, mockingly. "Oh, you've hurt me! Oh, the pain! I can't endure it! I think you may have dislocated my jaw. I may never be able to speak again, and I'm sure that my good looks are spoilt forever!"

Kandryl clenched his fist, ready to strike again harder, but Creole simply tilted his face towards him with a unique expression that was a strange combination of defiance and pity, and at the same time offering Kandryl the other cheek. This further infuriated Kandryl, but it had somewhat of a calming effect on him at the same time. He would not give in to his anger before this boy who would only mock him for it. He would control himself. Turning again, he motioned to the medic controlling the device encasing Creole's foot and gave the signal to continue.

Kandryl now watched Djaisiuk half-mockingly as the pain of the previous few minutes was revisited on Creole twenty times worse. All of the needles together were pushed further and further into the foot, each releasing their tiny trickle of Scrinerian acid on the way. Creole clenched his teeth, closed his eyes, and tensed his muscles, but he would not cry out. Djaisiuk closed his eyes too and lowered his head, but still he would not speak.

At last the device stopped. Creole's eyes opened, and he began to breathe again. His breath was somewhat ragged now, but not quite gasping. He took a few breaths then smiled up at Kandryl again, though his smile was not quite as bright as it had been previously.

"Ah, so you can do some more," he said, still breathing a little heavily. "Very good. I'm not quite as disappointed in you now. I see that at least some of the stories about you Vukasovians and your abilities must be true."

A moment later, he did cry out, though more because he was caught off-guard than because of the pain, as the needles were all suddenly and simultaneously withdrawn.

Kandryl turned and walked away from the table. He spoke a few words to the guards, then left the room. He was disgusted. The morning had been a complete waste. He would inform Moru immediately of his failure and find out whether the latter had anything else which he considered worth trying. This plan had indeed seemed good. It provided a mental torture for Djaisiuk while doing no long-term damage to the subject and utilized only a test subject at that. But now time was becoming precious. What had Djaisiuk done? What would be the consequences? And how much time did Kandryl have in which to find out before it was too late?

Kandryl ordered that Creole be returned to the holding cell and that Drayl be sent for immediately..

"Drayl, he is yours," said Kandryl, as soon as Drayl had entered. "Moru's first attempt failed more miserably than did yours yesterday. I realize that yesterday I was holding you back, but now I give you leave to go as far as you like. I have only two stipulations: first, if he calls for me or indicates that he wishes to divulge information, you are to cease immediately and completely until I can be summoned. Second, I want him both alive and sane tomorrow morning. Within those perimeters, I give you leave to do as you please. But do not forget my promise of yesterday: I will require his life of you, if you take it."

* * * * * * *

That night, after he had been in the hands of Drayl for a full nine hours, Djaisiuk was carried back to the same prison cell. Again he was met with the gruesome spectacle of his destroyed instrument which still lay in a heap on the floor, and again he closed his eyes as they entered. As the guards then left him, laying him on the cot provided, Djaisiuk considered with mild surprise how much the pain from the loss of his piano had dimmed over the last twenty-four hours. It still hurt to think about it, but in comparison to all else that he had endured, it seemed almost trivial. It wasn't as though he would have been capable of playing it for some time, even had it still been whole. Even so, he would not look at it.

Djaisiuk lay silently, wondering vaguely what Kandryl would do next. He would not threaten the lives of any of the other boys, or, if he did, it would certainly be a bluff; Djaisiuk knew that he would not take the lives of any of them yet. Even so, this morning's incident had awakened the realization that Kandryl might do much without actually killing or even permanently damaging any of the boys. They could still be used against Djaisiuk himself. He was somewhat comforted knowing that the tortures to which he was now being subjected would not be used on the others, unless at the last extreme. Kandryl would go to almost any lengths to break Djaisiuk, but he would not permanently damage his other workers to do so.

The last words that Creole had spoken as Djaisiuk was taken from the room came back to him now: "Don't give in to them, Djaisiuk," Creole had called. "Show them that we're a stronger race than they know; don't give in!"

Djaisiuk had no intention of 'giving in,' but he began to wonder whether he would survive. He had never before had to endure pain. When he had lived at home on his parents' farm as a small boy, he had been too young and too cautious to be exposed to any great dangers. When he had joined the school, his profession had provided no dangers to which he might be exposed. The greatest pain that he could ever remember experiencing prior to this capture was a short, strong electrical shock once, three and a half years ago. That had seemed incredible pain at the time. Now, it seemed trifling. The physical pain that he felt even now was more than he had ever imagined. He wondered vaguely how much damage had truly been done to him. He had been able to make a guess on the previous night, but now he had stopped even trying to think about it. He wondered how much longer he would last.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 31 - Further Discoveries

2010-08-03T21:55:00.000-04:00

After Kandryl had left the room, Faquire rose from his cot and moved to sit at the table. His remaining ankle restraint did not allow him to approach Djaisiuk, but he was able to sit in the chair just vacated by Kandryl. He looked long at Djaisiuk, but the latter did not move or raise his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Djaisiuk," said Faquire at last.

He reached forward and laid his right hand on Djaisiuk's arm, but still Djaisiuk did not move; he sat immovable, his eyes fixed on the floor. Faquire continued to watch him for a time, then bowed his own head silently. The two sat thus for some time.

After a short while, the door opened again, and four guards entered. Two of them approached Faquire and took hold of him. Faquire fought back as well as he could, but the guards were well-trained and strong. One of them loosed the restraint on Faquire's left ankle, and then the two led him struggling from the room. The other two guards waited until a short time after Faquire was gone, then led Djaisiuk out as well. Unlike Faquire, Djaisiuk made no resistance but walked calmly, staring at the floor. He was led to a holding cell much like the one in which he had treated Faquire, and there the guards left him.

* * * * * * *

Kandryl spent the remainder of the afternoon and a part of the night in working with the researchers who were still attempting to determine what it was that Djaisiuk had done. He knew now that it was imperative that he discover what had happened. If it had been nothing important, such as simply an attempt to test his own abilities, Djaisiuk would certainly have admitted it to save his instrument. No, it was most certainly something serious, and it must be discovered. But nothing was found that night.

Early on the morning of the seventeenth day, the officer of the preceding day came to Kandryl with a discovery.

"We've found something, sir," the officer reported. He handed a parchment to Kandryl showing a large block of coding. "This was not here before the unauthorized access occurred. It appears to have been added at the same time that the incident took place. It may be the whole purpose of the unauthorized access, or it may just as easily be entirely unrelated to the incident. We cannot yet be sure."

Kandryl studied the code briefly. "Have you identified its purpose?" he asked.

"Not yet, sir," the officer replied, "but I have three capable men working on it now. There is a further concern however; it appears to be growing."

Kandryl frowned. "Growing?" he asked. "In what way?"

"It almost appears to be writing itself, sir," the officer replied. "It has already increased its own size by almost ten percent since the time that we discovered it barely two hours ago. We estimate that it was so small as to be almost unnoticeable at the time of the incident."

"What threat does it pose?" asked Kandryl. "How soon do you expect to know its purpose?"

"I hope to have a full report on its purpose and capabilities by the end of the day, sir," replied the officer. "We have identified a thread of commands involving several outside programs that it means to execute; we have but to follow the program's own logic, very carefully, to discover what it means to do. The largest difficulty is, as I mentioned earlier, that it is somehow in the process of writing itself: it is in a constant state of change, and we haven’t deciphered what it is doing to itself, let alone what it intends to do once it is finished. Or even when it will finish. As to its threat, I would consider it negligible at this time. We have placed a hold on it that allows it to continue to grow so that we may observe it, but does not allow it to interact with anything outside of itself. If it attempts to do so, the hold will inform both the three working on it and myself."

Kandryl did not reply immediately. He stared at the small program, deep in thought. Kandryl did not believe that any hold could keep it from its set course if Djaisiuk had programmed it. No, it was imperative that they find out what exactly its purpose was before it decided to perform whatever functions it was set to perform.

* * * * * * *

Drayl was again summoned to Kandryl's quarters late in the morning of the seventeenth day of capture. When he arrived, he found Moru there already. Kandryl was sitting behind his desk waiting. He motioned Drayl to a seat and began to speak.

"Djaisiuk has defied me again,” began Kandryl calmly. "It is believed that he has recently worked some sabotage, and I want to find out what and where. I already know when and how, and at this point I really don't care about why."

Drayl's eyes glittered. "So you're saying that you want information from him," he said. "To what lengths are you willing to go this time to obtain it?"

"Suffice to say that I am willing to go farther than I did the last time," replied Kandryl. "I want to go no further than necessary, but I will go as far as need be. For the time being, I want to keep him as whole as possible, but I want that information."

Moru shrugged. "If you intend to use physical means, then I will be of little help there," he said.

"I intend to use whatever means necessary," replied Kandryl firmly. "I expect both of you to be able to provide means. Make use of the Komislavians working under each of you, if you want, preferably without them knowing it, but I want answers quickly."

"Give him to me, and I'll give you the answers," said Drayl with a cruel smile.

Kandryl frowned at him. "Drayl, how often must I remind you that this is business and not pleasure?" he snapped. "If I gave him to you and you did not provide the answers that I seek, what would you consider a suitable punishment for yourself? You've killed many people in trying to obtain information from them, in which case the information is lost forever."

"But I have also obtained information where many others have failed," countered Drayl. "My methods fail me occasionally, but my successes by far outweigh my failures."

"In this case, I will not accept failure," replied Kandryl. "If you kill him without obtaining the information that I want, then I will see you die by the same method that you use on him. Am I understood?"

The two looked at one another for a moment, then Drayl shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "I care not," he said. "You may make use of me or not as you see fit."

Kandryl continued to glower at him for a moment, then turned to Moru.

"Moru, you are dismissed for the time being," he said. "I want suggestions from you by this evening. We will start with the physical methods today, and we may move to psychological ones tomorrow, depending on how well or how ill it goes. Drayl, for the time being I intend to supervise the interrogations myself, though I will want you there. Don't bring the Komislavian doctor with you this time; he need not know about this at all. For now, I want you to provide me with a description of whatever devices you have ready to hand that may serve our purposes. We will begin as soon as they can be made ready."

Moru rose and left the room, and Drayl began to list the devices that he had ready to hand. Kandryl leaned back and closed his eyes, listening carefully.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 30 - Interrogation

2010-08-02T22:54:00.001-04:00

On the afternoon of the sixteenth day of capture, Djaisiuk and Kiacyl were working as usual at their computers, and Faquire was sitting quietly on his cot, looking rather bored, when the door to the workroom opened suddenly and Kandryl entered. Kiacyl and Faquire looked up immediately, and the surprise was evident on their faces. Faquire tensed and drew back a little, but did not speak. Kiacyl stood silently, looking up at Kandryl and awaiting orders. Kandryl ignored both of them and waited until Djaisiuk turned around to look at his visitor. Once he did so, Kandryl stepped forward and smiled.

"I have only one question for you today, Djaisiuk," said Kandryl in his purring voice. "And it requires only a 'yes' or 'no' answer, so you should find no difficulty in providing it."

Kandryl drew out a piece of paper and held it in front of Djaisiuk.

"My question is this," continued Kandryl. "Did you write this code?"

Djaisiuk looked at the paper silently; he did not react to the code. He merely sat thus for a moment, then lowered his eyes slightly, ignoring Kandryl's question.

Kandryl's face hardened. "I will not accept a non-answer to this," he said in a low voice. "This time, you will answer me, or you will face very strong consequences."

Djaisiuk did not move or raise his eyes. Kandryl slowly withdrew the paper and turned to Kiacyl.

"Go," he ordered.

Kiacyl left the room immediately without a word. Kandryl then stepped to the door also and instructed the guard to enter. He then motioned towards Faquire, and the guard stepped forward. Faquire drew himself back, obviously ready for a fight, but the guard was undaunted. He reached for Faquire's arm, and Faquire leapt to one side, doubling up his fists to fight. The guard was quicker though, and he struck Faquire a hard blow to the head. Faquire was stunned for moment only, but that was enough. The guard pulled Faquire's hands behind his back and placed restraints on them, binding them tightly together. He then did the same to his feet, putting close-fitting restraints on Faquire's ankles. Faquire had recovered himself by then and struggled a little, but the guard ignored this and merely lifted him and dropped him back onto the cot.

Throughout the proceeding, Djaisiuk had kept his eyes on the floor, sitting still with an impassive face. Kandryl had watched Djaisiuk with a strange expression but said nothing. When the guard had finished, Kandryl motioned him to leave, then motioned Djaisiuk to come to the table. Djaisiuk silently obeyed. He seated himself in his usual chair on the side of the table nearest the computers, turned half-sideways, and Kandryl seated himself in the chair on the far side of the table from the door, practically touching the cot on which Faquire was lying. Faquire turned over onto his side, lying almost on his stomach, and looked up at Kandryl with a poisonous glare, but Kandryl took no notice of him.

"You've been working extra, Djaisiuk," said Kandryl, still speaking in that low, purring voice which was always indicative of danger. "Perhaps you'd care to make a confession."

Djaisiuk, as usual, did not even look at him. Faquire, on the other hand, raised his eyebrows at this and looked at Djaisiuk in surprise and awe. He guessed what Kandryl was implying, and he seemed very happy to hear it.

Kandryl again pulled out the paper and spread it now on the table in front of Djaisiuk. Djaisiuk did not look at it.

"Perhaps you'd care to tell me the meaning of this," said Kandryl. He waited a moment, then took hold of Faquire by the hair and jerked his head back, still looking at Djaisiuk. Faquire suppressed a gasp with difficulty.

"Or perhaps you'd care to see this one die before your eyes," continued Kandryl in a voice that was low and menacing.

Djaisiuk still did not react. He did not look at either Kandryl or Faquire.

"Oh, so you're going to kill me now?" gasped Faquire in a strained voice, his throat being stretched by the position in which Kandryl was holding him, making it very difficult for him to breathe. "Don't think that that frightens me. And don't think that Djaisiuk would lift a finger to save me either! He wouldn't, unless it was perfectly convenient." Faquire was lying, and he knew it, but his loathing of Kandryl had hardened him so far that he felt very little guilt in doing so.

Kandryl continued to hold Faquire, still watching Djaisiuk. Faquire soon started to gasp, finding it increasingly difficult to breathe in that position, but still Djaisiuk did not move. Faquire began to wonder whether Djaisiuk really would sit there and do nothing until Faquire himself lost consciousness from lack of oxygen, but Kandryl did not hold him for that long. Faquire was just beginning to feel dizzy when Kandryl let go. He fell forward and then rolled himself over onto his back, trying hard to breathe deeply without gasping. He couldn't help but look across at Djaisiuk, wishing that he knew what the latter was thinking, and whether Djaisiuk had known that Kandryl was bluffing.

"I thought that you might not be moved by that," said Kandryl, still looking only at Djaisiuk. "So I am prepared to try something, shall we say, closer to your heart." Kandryl pressed a button on a communicator, and two guards entered the room.

"I'm giving you a chance now," continued Kandryl, "to tell me exactly what it is that you've been doing. I've been lenient with you for far too long. I warn you: this will go on no longer."

When Djaisiuk still made no response, Kandryl motioned to the guards. The two of them stepped around the table to stand on either side of Djaisiuk's precious instrument: the tall wooden piano.

At this, Kandryl thought that he caught the briefest movement of the eyes as Djaisiuk glanced over at his instrument, but still he did not move otherwise.

"I will ask you," said Kandryl quietly, drawing his words out very slowly, "and you will answer. If you do not answer, then these men will destroy your instrument, piece by piece."

Djaisiuk did not react, but Faquire did. He struggled again with the restraints and pulled himself up to almost a sitting position. Kandryl, however, ignored him.

Again Kandryl held out the paper in front of Djaisiuk. "Did you write this code?" he asked.

Djaisiuk did not answer.

The guards took hold of the top piece of the piano, a long, thin board that lay over the high top, and ripped it off. Faquire cringed.

"What was its purpose?"

The top board was broken into several pieces.

"Why did you erase it?"

The guard on the left struck the front of the piano, shattering the front panel.

"Stop!" cried Faquire. "You beast! You insane, cold-blooded, barbarous, inhuman, vicious--"

Kandryl turned calmly to face Faquire and, reaching out, took the latter by the throat, pressing with a finger in such a way as to nearly stop the blood flow in Faquire's neck. Faquire choked, and Kandryl held him until the former's eyes began to glaze. He then let him go, and Faquire again fell to the bed, much closer to unconsciousness this time than previously. It consequently took a bit longer for him to recover this time, but Kandryl did not wait. He turned back to Djaisiuk and continued.

"What more did you write?"

The guard on the right reached inside and cut several of the strings. The instrument seemed to cry out as the strings snapped, and Djaisiuk closed his eyes and lowered his head slightly.

"Did you write this code?"

More strings were cut.

"What was its purpose?"

Several keys were torn out.

"Why did you erase it?"

Still keeping his eyes closed, Djaisiuk put his hands over his ears. Kandryl was quiet for a moment, then motioned one of the guards to take Djaisiuk's hands down. Faquire had, by this time, recovered himself again. As the guard stepped behind Djaisiuk and forced his hands down and behind his back, Faquire opened his mouth to speak again. But the words died on his lips, for, as the guard held his hands behind him, Djaisiuk did open his eyes. He looked straight at Kandryl and showed emotion to him for the second time. This time was different from previously: his expression today was one of pity. The look lasted a very short time longer this time than it had the last time, but again it soon vanished; Djaisiuk's face became again perfectly emotionless as he lowered his head and again closed his eyes.

Kandryl was surprised, and Faquire was shocked. Kandryl had seen emotion displayed on Djaisiuk's face once before. Faquire had never seen emotion on Djaisiuk's face at any time. There was silence in the room for a moment, then Kandryl continued.

"Did you write this code?"

More of the keys were torn out. Kandryl, not content, motioned to the guard holding Djaisiuk. The guard shifted his grip on Djaisiuk's hands so that he held them both in his right hand. With his left hand, he roughly took hold of Djaisiuk's head by his thick brown hair and turned the latter's face towards his instrument. Djaisiuk still refused to react. And he did not open his eyes.

"What was its purpose?"

Piece by piece, bit by bit, the piano was slowly reduced to nothing more than a heap of wood pieces and broken wires. Djaisiuk had remained perfectly still through the remainder of the procedure. Faquire had felt hot tears of rage burning in his eyes. He found that he couldn't watch either the destruction of the instrument or Djaisiuk and had at last turned his face to the ceiling again and closed his own eyes. He prayed that God would deal justly with these evil men; he did not say, "Lord, forgive them, for they know not what they do," but rather, "Lord, judge them, for they know full well what they are doing!" And he did not feel guilty praying it. He did feel a little guilty about not feeling guilty though.

At last the destruction was complete. The first guard stomped on a few of the larger pieces, breaking them into splinters. Kandryl surveyed the destruction, then turned again to Djaisiuk. At a sign, the second guard released his hold, and Djaisiuk again bowed his head slightly.

Kandryl reached forward and lifted Djaisiuk's chin so that he could look him in the eye. Djaisiuk opened his eyes now and returned the gaze, but still refused to show any emotion.

"This is not the end," said Kandryl, smiling menacingly. "This is only the beginning."

Reaching to his right, he ran a finger gently over Faquire's jaw-line in a sort of caress. Faquire pulled back with a look of disgust, but Kandryl only smiled.

"Remember," Kandryl purred, speaking again to Djaisiuk. "What I can do to inanimate objects, I can also do to animate ones."

With that threat, he stood and again motioned to one of the guards. The guard stepped over to Faquire's cot and roughly undid the wrist and ankle restraints, leaving in place the one binding him to the cot and also being careful to avoid allowing Faquire to strike him. This done, Kandryl motioned for the guards to follow, and the three left the room.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 29 - Detection

2010-07-31T21:10:00.004-04:00

It was the sixteenth day of capture, and Kandryl was uneasy. Something was wrong, but he could not identify exactly what it was. Perhaps it had been Djaisiuk's behavior on the night previous. Kandryl had not been watching Djaisiuk constantly, but he had been curious to see whether Djaisiuk would speak to Faquire. He had, therefore, gone over the security recording of the day's happenings in Djaisiuk room before retiring for the night yesterday, skipping over most of it and watching only what he thought might be helpful. Most of the day had shown Djaisiuk acting precisely as Kandryl would have expected him to act. This was cautiously comforting. But the incident with the piano at the end of the day had been disconcerting. Kandryl could not say what about the incident made him uneasy; Djaisiuk had maintained his impassive silence and expressionless face throughout it all. He had completely ignored Faquire when the latter had been very obviously affected.

Djaisiuk played his piano often, and Kandryl had become accustomed to this, but something about his playing last night had been different. Kandryl searched his mind, trying to identify what it was that had been different, but to no avail. Also, why had Faquire been so affected? Perhaps it had simply been a piece of music that had emotional meaning to Faquire about which Djaisiuk had known nothing. Perhaps Faquire had been affected by something completely separate from the music. But either of these seemed to be too great of a coincidence. The old mistrust that Kandryl had felt from the beginning about Djaisiuk now resurfaced. Djaisiuk was far deeper than he appeared, and Kandryl knew that he had scarcely begun to plumb those depths.

The testing period of the experiment was nearly complete. Soon Kandryl's superiors would come to see the results of the tests. On the surface, he knew that they would be exceptionally pleased with Djaisiuk: he was a hard worker, a genius beyond all Vukasovian geniuses, and, in matters of work, he obeyed immediately and without question. He was perfect. He would, even alone without any of the others, convince Kandryl's superiors that this experiment was worth continuing.

And yet Kandryl was uneasy.

Eight of the other boys worked well, though several of them were questionable yet; still, it would be some time more before they would be ready for full integration into Vukasovian culture. Three were rebellious, but these were useful for testing and observation. And they were all still alive and healthy, even after nearly twenty days of imprisonment. The experiment was going very well indeed.

And yet Kandryl was uneasy.

* * * * * * *

That afternoon, as he worked, one of the intelligence officers of the facility approached Kandryl. Even before he spoke, his face told Kandryl that it was not pleasant news that he bore. The officer indicated that his information was delicate, so Kandryl motioned him into a small side room.

"Sir, there has been an unauthorized access to the external controls detected," said the officer as Kandryl closed the door.

"Unauthorized access?" repeated Kandryl. "When? By whom? Was it from within or without?"

"It seems that it occurred the night before last, but we've not yet been able to identify by whom or for what purpose," said the officer. "It appears that it was done from within the facility, but even of that we cannot be entirely sure. We began researching it early this morning when it was first discovered. The information available concerning it was not complete, and, even as we researched it, more and more of the information disappeared."

"What do you mean it disappeared?" demanded Kandryl.

"Someone or something is systematically erasing all record of the incident," replied the officer.

"Did you create a backup of your research?" asked Kandryl.

"We did, sir," he nodded. "We created two different backups, one with the regular backups and one in a secure location where few have access, but they have both been erased entirely. When it happened the first time, we began printing hard copies of each piece as it was found."

The officer produced several printed pages of code and spread them on the small table in the room. "This was the only way that we could be certain of them not being destroyed without our knowledge," he said. "Look here: on the surface, this small block of code seems to have no purpose. It was apparently used somehow in connection with the incident, though we don't yet know how. If you look at this program now, this block is gone, and there is no trace to indicate that it has ever been there apart from this paper. This one too, and this one, and this one," he continued, pointing to various pieces of code on other pages.

Kandryl snatched up two of the pages and examined them carefully. These he recognized immediately as pieces of programs written entirely by Djaisiuk, though reviewed and possibly edited by others.

Djaisiuk, he thought. Who else could have done this?

"Have you identified who or what has been erasing the codes?" asked Kandryl.

The officer shook his head. "No, sir," he said. "The code is simply erased without a trace of who or what is doing it. One moment it's there; the next it's gone. In truth, we have only these printed papers to assure ourselves that we're not simply imagining the whole thing."

"I assume that you still have several people working on this?" asked Kandryl.

Kandryl replaced the two pages with the others and gazed down at all of them, deep in thought. "Continue your investigation and inform me immediately of any new discoveries," said Kandryl after a moment without looking at the officer. "You are dismissed."

The officer saluted and left.

Kandryl stood alone in his small office. He was playing a very deadly game, he knew. He had known this from the time that he had decided to keep Djaisiuk alive as a worker, but it was brought home far more now.

Why had Djaisiuk wished to access the external controls? It was possible, Kandryl considered, that someone else had done it using Djaisiuk's programs as a cover. That was possible, but it was not likely. It could easily be determined by asking Djaisiuk. Kandryl did not believe that Djaisiuk would lie to him. He may refuse to answer a question, but he would not answer with a lie.

Assuming that it had been Djaisiuk, what had he done? What would Kandryl have done in his place? No, that line of logic would not help, for his own experiences and desires had never helped in the past to predict what Djaisiuk might do. He thought about what he knew of the other Komislavian boys; what might they have done in the same place? That answer was simple: nothing. They would not have attempted it. They had discussed escape plans, it is true, but nothing more. There was nothing in the external controls that could have helped with that. If they had had Djaisiuk helping them, he might have been able to gain control of the internal controls. And they could then have effected an escape quite nicely, though, of course, they would never have gotten far from the planet. But why the external controls?

A ruse, Kandryl thought. Possibly he had done something completely unrelated to the external controls, but had left a very light trail leading in a wrong direction with the intent of throwing off the scent anyone who discovered his extracurricular activities. No, if it was Djaisiuk then he would simply erase all record of it and not allow anyone to find it in the first place. But someone had found it. Didn't that prove then that it hadn't been Djaisiuk?

This was a situation more difficult and more dangerous than any in which Kandryl had ever found himself. One false step, one wrong conclusion, and it would cost him more than his position: it would cost him his life. Kandryl had known this from the time that he had been given permission to attempt this experiment, but then he had had no fear of defeat. His superiors had not been so certain, which was why they had left the entire responsibility (and the entire blame, should it fail) on Kandryl's shoulders. They believed it possible for him to succeed, but the risks were greater than any of them would have been willing to swallow. Kandryl had believed himself capable. He still believed himself capable. But if he failed, there would be no forgiveness, no second chance. His people were as hard and unforgiving as he was himself.

Djaisiuk was smarter than was Kandryl, he knew. If Djaisiuk was truly working against him, then the safest plan would be to kill him. If Djaisiuk had accomplished what it appeared that he had accomplished, then Kandryl would not trust him even in a prison cell. But he was not sure. And what had Djaisiuk actually done?

Sabotage was a possibility, but it seemed unlikely. If sabotage then why had he done it with the external rather than the internal controls? If he could break into the external controls and leave it undetectable for two days and two nights, then surely he could have set some plan into action within the internal controls that would have made possible their escape from here. He could have closed the entire facility, Kandryl was sure of it, by a complicated program of sorts placed within the internal controls of the facility. Again came the question: why the external controls?

Perhaps it had been no more than a test; perhaps Djaisiuk had simply wanted to see whether he could do it and get away without detection. Maybe he was simply trying to show Kandryl how intelligent and resourceful he could be. It was possible that this was no more than a prank, a product of mischief and boredom. On the surface, this seemed incredibly unlikely for Djaisiuk, but Kandryl reminded himself of how little he really knew about him.

Kandryl realized, at last, that with Djaisiuk lay the only answer. He was systematically erasing all trace of the incident. Kandryl could consider thousands of possibilities, but they would all be guesses. The only way to truly know what Djaisiuk had done would be for Djaisiuk himself to tell him. Kandryl knew that he was probably playing with fire in even keeping Djaisiuk alive now, but he still believed it worth the risk. He still held onto the hope that this would prove to be nothing very serious, and that he would, in time, be able to bring Djaisiuk fully under his power.

How far he was willing to go to extract the information that he wanted remained to be seen. One question would suffice to answer that: Kandryl would simply ask Djaisiuk whether he had indeed written the code used in the unauthorized access. If Djaisiuk said no, then Kandryl could assume that Djaisiuk had not, in fact, been the one to perform the access, but rather someone else had simply used Djaisiuk's programs as a cover. This seemed unlikely, but it was possible. It was certainly the most preferred answer, for then Kandryl could utilize Djaisiuk himself in the search for exactly what had been done and by whom. If Djaisiuk said yes, that he had written the code, then Kandryl could assume that he had performed the unauthorized access, but that nothing serious had been done. If Djaisiuk had done something serious, then he would doubtless not admit to having written the code. Kandryl could then question Djaisiuk as to why he had erased it (and whether he had erased it). He may have to be a little harsh, but he doubted that it would, in this case, be difficult to extract the information that he wanted. If Djaisiuk refused to answer, however, Kandryl knew that then was when he had most cause to worry. In this last case, Kandryl was prepared to do whatever was necessary to find out exactly what Djaisiuk had done.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 28 - Relocation

2010-07-30T23:49:00.001-04:00

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?"

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.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 27 - A Proposition

2010-07-29T21:49:00.002-04:00

Kandryl had been watching the whole of the interview from his own quarters. True, he had missed a small part of it when he had left with Djaisiuk, but only a small part. He had consigned Djaisiuk to a guard with orders for the guard to see Djaisiuk safely back to his own room, and had then gone himself back to his own quarters and watched the remainder of the proceedings in the holding cell. So it was that by the time Eriane and Wysire arrived, he had been able to give the matter about which they had come some thought.

The request was formally and delicately made with all of the necessary medical and psychological aspects brought to attention. Eriane assured Kandryl that the physical well-being of a Komislavian was very much influenced by their emotional well-being. Wysire explained that after such a trying incident it would be wise to place Faquire with friends until what time as he had fully recovered emotionally.

Kandryl answered that Faquire was now and always had been welcome to join the rest of them if he chose. He, Creole, and Christopher had each been given the opportunity to serve alongside their companions when they had first landed. They had refused. Kandryl had assured them from the beginning, however, that they could withdraw that refusal at any time. If Faquire was willing to work, he would, of course, be released immediately.

Eriane looked uncomfortable at this, but Wysire looked at Kandryl strangely.

"You know what he thinks of that," said Wysire.

Kandryl raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"You've heard our whole conversation," continued Wysire. "You told Jaeger some time ago that there was nowhere in this facility that we could go where our words would not be heard. I know that you heard us tonight."

Kandryl smiled. "I admit it," he said. "I did hear your conversation. Very well then; we are now on the same footing. But tell me this: if your friend refuses to work, why ought I to allow him any privileges?"

"Because you don't want him to die," replied Wysire without hesitation.

"It'd only be temporary," assured Eriane.

"Why should it be?" asked Kandryl. "If he is returned in time to the position in which he is now, do you think it unlikely that he will again fall to this level? And if he does, will you then ask for further liberties for him? And what of the other two?" He shook his head. "No, it is not so simple. I know that if I grant this one request, more will follow. If your friend refuses to join us, he will eventually die. We will not kill him outright, of course, but neither will we grant to him special privileges above any other prisoner in his situation. You say that I don't want him to die, and you are correct. But there are limits to what I will do to ensure his continued existence."

"Let him stay with me," said Wysire. "Or let me go to him regularly for a few days. He is in a situation unlike any he has ever experienced. If he can work through this, I have every hope that he will be able to survive, even in this same situation, for a very long time. If you keep him as he is, cut off from all of us and being treated the way that he is, he may well lose his mind in a matter of weeks."

Kandryl looked hard at Wysire, and a half smile just showed itself. "Do you think that 'in time' you would be able to convince him to join you completely? To work with us?"

Wysire shook his head. "I wouldn't want to do so," he said. "At least not in the way that you mean. He doesn't want to serve you, and I wouldn't want to try to change his mind on that. I am not skilled in the art of manipulation, and I have no desire ever to be so."

"Could you do it, if you wished?" asked Kandryl, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Wysire's eyes hardened. "I would not wish to do so," he said. "The question is impossible and therefore irrelevant."

"Your question concerning permission for him to stay with you is also impossible, seeing that he has said that he would stay only with your compatriot Djaisiuk," countered Kandryl. "Or have you forgotten?"

"I have not," replied Wysire after a slight pause, his voice softer now.

Kandryl waited, but Wysire did not continue.

"Have you nothing more to say?" asked Kandryl at last.

"We have made our request," answered Wysire firmly, "and you have made your decision. I am only waiting to hear what it is."

Kandryl continued to smile. "Yes," he nodded. "I have made my decision. But it is not what you think. I have decided that Djaisiuk should be the one to decide what ought to be done. After all, he is the one who will be inconvenienced should your friend be relocated to his quarters. I will abide by his choice."

Wysire and Eriane exchanged glances.

"Considering the fact that Djaisiuk is doubtless asleep already," began Eriane hesitantly, "would it be possible to make an exception and have Faquire removed to a more, shall we say, neutral setting until morning?"

"No," answered Kandryl, with a shake of the head. "Nothing shall be done concerning the matter until Djaisiuk himself has stated an opinion. You may wait until morning . . . ." He paused before continuing. "Or, if you request it, I can send for him now."

Again, Wysire and Eriane exchanged glances.

"You know very well that he wouldn't like to be disturbed," said Wysire. "He was up later than his normal hour for sleep tonight, and he is doubtless tired."

"Then we will simply leave things as they stand until morning," said Kandryl. "Of course, Djaisiuk will have his work to do in the morning, so it may be that we will be unable to address this again until tomorrow evening. You may both return then, if you like, and, if you do so early enough, Djaisiuk will not have retired yet."

"Why are you doing this?" demanded Wysire. "This is intentional psychological torment. We've done all that you've asked of us; why are you doing this? It's not Faquire whom you're trying to harm now; it's the two of us and Djaisiuk. Why?"

Kandryl's smile faded and his face grew firm. He sat forward in his chair and met Wysire's gaze. "You've lived a life of comfort until now," he said. "Doubtless you've never been faced with a decision where either way that you choose you will hurt someone. You don't want this responsibility now, and you're angry with me for forcing it upon you, but you will learn that life is not all peace and prosperity. Life is pain! You can choose whether you will enjoy it and revel in it, or whether you will fight back and be overwhelmed by it. Which do you prefer?"

Eriane stared at Kandryl, shocked at such blatant statements, but Wysire's face showed no signs of surprise: instead, a look of sadness and pity crept into his eyes.

"I know what you're thinking," continued Kandryl in a low voice, before Wysire could speak. "I warn you not to make any rash decisions tonight. It's late, as you've already observed. I suggest that you both return to your quarters to get some rest. Perhaps tomorrow we can continue this discussion."

Eriane lowered his eyes, not wanting to abandon Faquire to another night of this, but thinking that, given how things seemed to stand, this would be the best course. He nodded silently and started to turn away, but stopped as Wysire spoke.

"No," said Wysire firmly. "You give us the choice to call Djaisiuk tonight or to wait until tomorrow. Very well then, I say call him tonight. Let us settle this about Faquire here and now. There will be no need to continue this discussion tomorrow, although I have some hope that we will be able to continue it at a later date."

Kandryl's eyebrows rose slightly. Eriane's eyebrows rose considerably. He'd never heard Wysire speak in that tone of voice.

"As you wish," said Kandryl simply.

Kandryl then pressed a button on his desk, and a guard entered. The guard was instructed to bring Djaisiuk to the room, and then he left. Kandryl then lent back in his chair again, closed his eyes as if thinking, and said nothing more. Eriane looked questioningly at Wysire, but Wysire did not look at him.

It seemed a very long time, though it surely wasn't, before the guard returned with Djaisiuk. The former then left the room, while the latter glanced lightly over the inhabitants of the room before lowering his gaze to the floor. He did not speak.

"Djaisiuk," said Kandryl, sitting forward again. "Your friends have a request to make of you."

Djaisiuk did not look up or answer.

Kandryl turned to Wysire. "Here he is," he said simply. "You may make your request."

"May we be permitted to speak alone?" asked Wysire.

"As you just stated," replied Kandryl with a smile, "there is nowhere in this facility where you can be truly alone. But if you wish to go into another room, the one there is empty." He indicated a door off to one side of the room.

Wysire looked at Kandryl for moment silently, then lowered his eyes. He turned then to Djaisiuk. He looked a little less sure of himself now, though he tried hard to hide it.

"Djaisiuk," he began, "I believe that it would be far better for Faquire if he were removed from the cell in which he is being held and placed with one of us. Faquire has said that he would agree to it and that he would promise to cause no trouble if he would be allowed to stay with you. Kandryl has said that the decision rests with you; he will agree to whatever you decide."

Wysire stopped, waiting, but Djaisiuk did not look at him. He remained motionless and impassive. Wysire began to look a little more uncomfortable.

"Djaisiuk, will you at least answer me?" he asked.

"Wysire, may I?" asked Eriane. Receiving permission, Eriane looked at Djaisiuk. "Djaisiuk, will you consent to Faquire's staying with you for at least a short period of time? A few days, perhaps?"

For a moment, there was silence, then Djaisiuk said simply, "Yes."

"There you have it," said Eriane, turning to Kandryl. "Can Faquire be moved immediately? And may Djaisiuk go back to bed, as I'm sure he wishes?"

"Why not let him make that request?" asked Kandryl. Without waiting for a reply, however, he leaned forward and again pressed a button summoning a guard. "You may go, Djaisiuk," he said. "That is all. You two may also go. Your task here is finished. Your friend will sleep in Djaisiuk's workroom tonight."

* * * * * * *
Djaisiuk did return to bed, but Eriane and Wysire asked to be allowed to accompany the guards in the relocation of Faquire. To this, Kandryl did agree.

Five guards were summoned, and they were all given minute instructions. Three proceeded immediately to the holding cells, while the other two were sent to prepare a sleeping place in Djaisiuk's workroom. Eriane and Wysire followed the first three. On the way to the cells, Eriane and Wysire held a quiet conversation.

"Wysire," began Eriane. "What was all of that between you and Kandryl? I couldn't understand half of what you two were saying to one another. I understood the words, but I know that there was more meaning behind them than I was catching."

Wysire did not answer immediately, but seemed to be thinking.

"Kandryl wants us to serve his people indefinitely," answered Wysire slowly. "He wants us to do this without question or hesitation. This conversation just now was a covert attempt at brainwashing and manipulation. When he saw that I understood exactly what he was doing, he spoke bluntly, explaining why it would be better to go over to his side than to remain where I was. That was the part about life being pain and either fighting it or submitting to it."

"I didn't understand that at all," said Eriane. "If he truly believes that life is pain, then why does he live?"

Wysire smiled ruefully. "Vukasovians can taste pain," he said. "They find it delicious. Physical, mental, or spiritual makes no difference to them. They enjoy watching the infliction of suffering on others, and they can even take pleasure in pain that they suffer themselves. Yes, Satan truly has a great stronghold here among these people."

Eriane shuddered. "I know that they're sadists," he said. "I've seen that quite plainly in Drayl, my supervisor. But the way that you describe it is horrific. Drayl has said that I'll become like them in time, but I know that I won't. Does Kandryl hope that we will?"

"Kandryl wants us to become numb to pain. He doesn't really care whether we come to enjoy it as they do; that will make no difference as far as our work is concerned. But if we continually react to pain, whether our own or that of our friends and others, in the way that we, as Komislavians and Christians, are expected to react, then eventually we will cease to be of any use to the Vukasovians. This constant exposure, for simply by being among them we must be exposed to it, will wear on us until eventually it breaks or destroys us. He wants us to become slowly hardened to it, until we reach the point where we are no longer affected by it. Then we will be truly valuable to them."

Eriane was quiet for time, watching the floor, lost in thought.

"What are we supposed to do?" he asked quietly.

"Pray," answered Wysire. "That's the best thing that we can do now. That, and don't ever become hardened to it." He looked up at Eriane and gave a small smile. "And we can do what we can for the others when we can. We can try to help them as we are trying to help Faquire. But prayer will accomplish the most."

Eriane looked hard at Wysire. "Wysire, how do you bear it?" he asked quietly.

Wysire again smiled sadly and lowered his eyes. "It isn't easy," he said. "But unlike the Vukasovians, I know that life isn't pain. It may seem that way now, but I have the Hope within me that gives me the strength to continue. And they can never take that away."

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 26 - Faquire

2010-07-29T19:18:00.002-04:00

Once they had left the eating room, Djaisiuk fell back and allowed the Vukasovian to lead the way. Eriane and Wysire walked quietly beside Djaisiuk. Eriane once ventured to ask Djaisiuk softly whether he would mind telling them what this was all about, but Djaisiuk only made a short motion with his hand, indicating that Eriane should wait. So they walked in silence down several more halls. After only a few minutes, they saw Kandryl walking down the hall toward them. They stopped and waited for him to approach.

Kandryl dismissed the escort and turned to the three boys.

“I understand that you have been to visit your three companions,” he said to Wysire.

Wysire blinked. “Yes, I have,” he said simply.

“I understand further that you have deep concerns for the well-being of the youngest one; also that you are unsure as to whether even you and your medical friend here, working together, would be able to bring him back to health.”

Wysire frowned, wondering where this was headed.

“We would be very grateful for an opportunity to try,” said Eriane.

“You may be given that opportunity,” said Kandryl. “I have summoned your compatriot Djaisiuk now, as a test of his great intelligence, to attempt to remedy his companion’s condition himself. I allow him to bring the two of you along as his assistants, if he pleases.”

Eriane and Wysire glanced at Djaisiuk, but the latter remained staring resolutely at the floor.

“If he fails, then I will allow you to try yourself,” continued Kandryl. “I merely want you both to understand that at this time you are here as assistants. I am asking Djaisiuk to heal his compatriot; not you. You may of course help if he wishes.”

With that, Kandryl turned and led them down several more halls. Wysire recognized the way, but Eriane had never been to the holding cells before. He looked around himself curiously as they went. Djaisiuk had, of course, never been here before either, but he maintained his watch on the floors, taking no apparent interest in his surroundings.

When they at last reached the desired section, they were met by a doctor carrying a medical scanner. This man exchanged a few brief words with Kandryl then joined the group as they walked on. A few short passages further, and Kandryl stopped before a door at which a guard was stationed. The guard saluted and stepped back, and Kandryl opened the door and stepped back himself, motioning Djaisiuk to enter.

Djaisiuk entered the room without hesitation, followed closely by Wysire, Eriane, Kandryl, and the doctor. Faquire was lying on the small bed on his back, his head at the end nearest the door. He eyes were open, fixed immovably on the ceiling, and his breathing was so light as to be quite inaudible, although one could see the very slight rise and fall of his chest from time to time. Wysire, Eriane, Kandryl, and the doctor stood by the door and watched as Djaisiuk walked straight to the bed on which Faquire was lying. Faquire had not moved as the group entered and made no reaction now as Djaisiuk bent over him.

Djaisiuk lowered himself onto one knee next to the bed and turned Faquire’s face slightly towards himself. He then used his right thumb to push back Faquire’s left eyelid to examine the eye. Letting go, he turned Faquire’s head back to its original position and, laying his hand across Faquire’s face, pressed his thumb and middle finger to Faquire’s temples. Faquire did not react to any of this.

“Ephinamin,” said Djaisiuk in hoarse voice, not raising his eyes.

“Ephinamin?” the doctor repeated. “Yes, we’ve tried that. It did increase the heartbeat and brain waves for a short time, but he did not react otherwise.”

Djaisiuk turned to look at the doctor but did not speak.

“I think that he wants you to try it again,” Eriane offered quietly.

The doctor sighed and turned to Kandryl. “Sir, we’ve tried it already,” he said, “and it didn’t–”

“Try it again,” interrupted Kandryl firmly.

The doctor shook his head slightly and shrugged as he opened his communicator. “Is there any particular dose you’d like?” he asked Djaisiuk.

“Five,” came the immediate reply.

“Five?!” exclaimed the doctor. “You’re not going to get any reaction with five. We tried fifty, and it barely lasted above two minutes.”

“He said five,” said Kandryl authoritatively.

The doctor sighed and spoke into his communicator, then turned again to Djaisiuk. “Anything else?”

“Melactosin,” replied Djaisiuk, turning back to Faquire and taking hold of the latter's left wrist.

The doctor arched an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you expect that to do? It won’t help, I can assure you.”

Djaisiuk did not answer. Kandryl looked at the doctor, and the doctor understood. He lifted his communicator again.

“I suppose you’d like a dose two?” he asked Djaisiuk, half-sarcastically.

“Twelve,” said Djaisiuk, not looking up.

“Sir, he’s just making up numbers now,” said the doctor, lowering his communicator and turning again to Kandryl. “He obviously doesn’t know what he’s talking about. There isn’t a dose twelve of melactosin.”

“Then make one,” Kandryl replied.

The doctor looked a little taken aback and opened his mouth again to argue but stopped, seeing Kandryl’s look. He obediently spoke again into his communicator, ordering the necessary procedures to create the unusual dose of the required drug.

Djaisiuk examined Faquire's lower arm with his fingers, then stood up and stepped back from the bed. He crossed his arms and stood still, staring vaguely at the floor, his face perfectly expressionless.

“Is that how he looks when he’s thinking?” asked the doctor.

“I imagine that that’s how he looks when he’s waiting for his requested materials to arrive,” Kandryl replied with a slightly sarcastic edge to his voice.

The doctor frowned, but did not dare to reply in kind. “They’ll be here soon,” was all that he said.

And soon a young medic appeared with a syringe and a small flat cylinder which he handed to the doctor. He then quietly withdrew. The doctor offered them wordlessly to Djaisiuk, but Djaisiuk did not take them. He instead motioned with his head towards Eriane, indicating that they should be given to him. Eriane wordlessly accepted and administered the drugs. Djaisiuk then stepped up to the bed, lowered himself again on one knee, and gently closed Faquire’s eyes.

Glancing up at the doctor, Djaisiuk said simply, “Go.”

The doctor looked positively offended. “Are you ordering me to leave?” he demanded.

Djaisiuk ignored him, however, and turned back to Faquire. The doctor gaped at him.

“He said leave,” said Kandryl. “Leave.”

The doctor looked at him half-incredulously. “Will you still want this?” he asked at last, holding out the medical scanner.

“Give it to him,” said Kandryl, indicating Eriane.

The doctor obeyed grudgingly, and sulkily left. Kandryl smiled to himself. Djaisiuk was a Komislavian, it was true, but he seemed to be acting more and more like a Vukasovian every day. Each action tonight had raised him in Kandryl’s esteem. Kandryl began to feel surer of the success of this experiment than he had up to this point. It seemed almost as though Djaisiuk enjoyed being with the Vukasovians, as though this was who he truly was. If only Kandryl could finally trust Djaisiuk! If he would but join them in truth, nothing would be impossible.

For a moment they all waited in silence. Very soon Faquire’s breathing grew a little deeper. Without a word, Djaisiuk took hold of the front of Faquire’s shirt and pulled him into a sitting position. Faquire’s eyes opened again, but they still seemed to see nothing. Djaisiuk was undaunted. He stood, still holding Faquire by the shirt with his right hand, and took hold of Faquire’s legs with his left and pulled them over the side of the bed. He then again took hold of the front of Faquire’s shirt with both hands this time, braced his right knee against Faquire's left, and, with a little effort, considering the slight size and definite weight difference between the two, pulled Faquire up to a standing position.

Faquire now looked Djaisiuk straight in the eye, though his expression had not changed. No one could say whether he truly saw anything.

Eriane, Wysire, and Kandryl watched this proceeding with interest. Djaisiuk did not utter a word. He had stepped back a little, though he still held Faquire firmly by the shirt. He simply stood, perfectly impassive, looking now slightly up at Faquire who, although four years Djaisiuk’s junior, was still at least two inches taller than was Djaisiuk.

Faquire looked at Djaisiuk for a moment, then slowly his head began to bow forward and his eyes lowered, his body looking as though it would fold in on itself. Djaisiuk still held him, but it looked as though Faquire would certainly collapse if Djaisiuk were to let go. Eriane started to move forward, thinking to catch Faquire should he fall, but was stopped at a quick glance from Djaisiuk.

Djaisiuk took Faquire’s chin in his left hand, still holding tightly onto his shirt with his right, and lifted Faquire's face again. He then took hold of the shirt with his left hand, raised his right hand, and suddenly slapped Faquire hard across the face.

Wysire gasped and Eriane gave a short exclamation, quickly suppressed. Neither could believe what they had just seen. Eriane was quite beside himself. They each restrained themself however with difficulty and continued to watch Djaisiuk. Even Kandryl seemed surprised at this last act, though he had learned to have no expectations when it came to Djaisiuk.

Faquire’s face at last seemed to show a very little bit of life: he looked at least slightly surprised. Djaisiuk turned Faquire’s face toward himself again, and Faquire looked at him, his mouth now open slightly. Some of the lethargy seemed to have left Faquire’s body. He still stood uncertainly, but it seemed to be somewhat more in his own strength now.

Djaisiuk gently pushed Faquire back and lowered him down onto the cot again. Faquire’s head tilted upwards as he sat down so that he continued to look at Djaisiuk. Djaisiuk carefully let go, and Faquire sat still, still looking Djaisiuk in the eye. Djaisiuk crossed his arms again, still returning Faquire’s gaze, and waited.

For a short time the two stayed thus in silence. At last, Faquire closed his mouth and swallowed slowly.

“Djaisiuk?” he asked in a hoarse, quiet voice.

Immediately Djaisiuk turned away. Walking back toward the door, he motioned Eriane to go to Faquire. Eriane needed no more encouragement. He jumped forward quickly and dropped to one knee beside Faquire, taking one of Faquire’s hands in his own.

“Faquire,” he said eagerly. “Faquire, are you alright?”

Faquire did not look at him, however, but continued to stare at Djaisiuk.

“Faquire!” called Eriane. “Faquire, it’s Eriane! Can’t you hear me?” He looked at Wysire helplessly.

“Faquire, we’re here,” said Wysire, stepping forward. “It’s alright; you’re safe.”

Faquire still gave no indication that he heard. He continued to look at Djaisiuk. Hearing his breathing begin to grow lighter again, Eriane turned also to Djaisiuk.

“Djaisiuk, he won’t answer me,” said Eriane. “I don’t know whether he even hears me.”

Without a word, Djaisiuk turned and walked back to the cot. Faquire’s eyes followed him until he stood before him. Djaisiuk then took Faquire’s chin firmly in his hand and tilted it up slightly to face himself. Eriane and Wysire both tensed, afraid lest Djaisiuk might strike Faquire again, but Djaisiuk did not hit him. He merely held Faquire’s face there for a moment, then turned it towards Eriane and let go. Faquire blinked.

Taking his cue from Djaisiuk, Eriane raised a hand and pressed it gently to Faquire’s cheek. “Can you hear me, Faquire?” he asked.

Faquire’s lips moved slowly. At last, he spoke. “Yes,” he said softly.

Eriane smiled in joy and relief. “Oh, Faquire!” he exclaimed. “I’m so glad. And can you see me too?”

Faquire nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said.

Turning Faquire’s face gently towards Wysire, Eriane asked, “And can you see Wysire too?”

Faquire was quiet for a moment, and then said quietly, “Wysire.”

“Yes, Faquire,” said Wysire softly. “It’s me.”

Faquire blinked again a few times and looked slowly around the room, moving his head of his own accord now. He looked slightly confused.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“I’m done,” said Djaisiuk abruptly, turning to Kandryl, and then indicated the doorway, implying that he wished to leave now.

Kandryl raised his eyebrows and looked back at the other three. They sat or stood still, not seeming to know what to say. Eriane and Wysire both looked confused but said nothing. They simply watched and waited. Kandryl smiled, impressed, as usual, with Djaisiuk, particularly with how successful he’d been in so short a time when the Vukasovian doctors had failed so miserably and even the Komislavian “counselor” had seemed hopeless. Indeed, what Djaisiuk had done that had proved so successful still eluded him. The doctors had tried all sorts of stimuli, both mental and physical, but nothing had worked. Djaisiuk was as impossible to understand as he was to predict, Kandryl decided.

"Have you healed him completely?" asked Kandryl. "Or do you want these two to remain with him?"

"No; yes," said Djaisiuk, not looking at Kandryl.

Kandryl looked at him, tilting his head to one side, wondering whether he ought to pursue this. He understood perfectly what Djaisiuk meant, but it might be pleasant to torment him in forcing him to speak more to explain himself. He quickly decided against this however, due to the presence of Eriane and Wysire. He said nothing, therefore, and simply stepped back, allowing Djaisiuk access to the door of the cell. Djaisiuk walked out, but Kandryl did not immediately follow. He glanced back at the boys still in the room.

"Doctor," he said.

Eriane looked up at him.

"Is there a dose twelve of melactosin on Komislava?" Kandryl asked.

Eriane thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I've never heard of one," he answered.

Kandryl smiled to himself, nodded, then turned and walked out of the room, leaving Eriane and Wysire alone with Faquire.

Eriane and Wysire looked at one another, neither seeming to be sure of what to do next. They neither of them wanted to make a mistake. Fortunately, Faquire spoke first.

“I’m hungry,” said Faquire, still speaking in a slow, weak voice.

“I’ll see what I can do about that right now,” said Eriane. He jumped up and went to the door. There he exchanged a few words with the guard while Wysire continued to talk to Faquire.

“Do you feel alright otherwise?” asked Wysire.

“I . . . I think so,” answered Faquire, speaking very slowly and haltingly. “It’s hard to tell . . . . I haven’t been eating properly, have I?”

“No, you probably haven’t,” said Wysire, smiling broadly at such a long sentence from him. “We’ll see what we can do about that, but you mustn’t worry about your food now. It may not be up to your normal standards, but it’ll have to do for a while yet.”

Eriane returned. “The guard is going to fetch you something to eat now,” he said. “It shouldn’t take more than a minute or two. In the meantime, would you mind if I performed a quick medical scan, Faquire? It would help my mind to rest easier.”

Faquire looked at him for a moment as if trying to process what he had said. At last he nodded. “That’s fine,” he said.

Eriane held the scanner about a foot from Faquire and moved it slowly up and down in front of him, watching the readout constantly. Faquire raised his right hand and gently massaged his throat with a puzzled expression.

“It hurts to talk,” he said. “I don’t know why.”

“It’s probably because you haven’t spoken in so long,” said Eriane, intent on the scanner and not looking at him. “Your muscles will take time to loosen to where it doesn’t hurt. It’ll get better as you speak more, though it may get a little worse before it begins to improve.”

“Is this what Djaisiuk feels when he speaks?” asked Faquire.

“Probably,” replied Eriane. He finished the scan and powered down the scanner. “You are definitely weak and slightly malnourished, but nothing dangerous,” he said. “If you’re careful and eat well, you should be fine in a few days.”

He had scarcely finished speaking when the guard returned with a medic. The medic carried a food tray which he set down carefully on the cot, looking cautiously at Faquire the whole time. He looked almost as though he were afraid of him. Once he had delivered the tray, the medic and guard both withdrew.

Eriane helped Faquire to eat at first, and then Faquire fed himself after he had eaten a little. The food seemed to increase both his strength and awareness. He again looked around the room as he finished.

“Where are we?” he asked.

Eriane swallowed. “We’re prisoners,” he said. “We’re on a Vukasovian base. We’re standing now in one of their holding cells where you’ve--”

Faquire held up a hand to stop him, and looked down, thinking. “Wait,” he said finally, his voice a little firmer than it had been up to now. “Yes, I remember. . . . Creole refused to serve them, and so did Christopher. I followed Creole . . . and the Vukasovians locked me in here. I remember.” He looked up again and his eyes seemed a little brighter. “That was their leader, wasn’t it? The man with Djaisiuk. He is the one in charge.”

“Yes,” said Eriane. “His name is Kandryl.”

“Kandryl,” Faquire repeated quietly. “Yes, I remember.” Faquire was quiet for a moment, seeming to be thinking hard. Finally he shook his head. “There seem to be gaps in my memory. I know that I was brought here, but I don’t know what happened next. What has happened with everyone else? How long have I been here? How long have you been here? You said that you are prisoners too?”

"I . . . I didn't mean that kind of prisoner," replied Eriane hesitantly. "I just meant that we're all being kept here on Vukosava and not allowed to leave."

“You’ve been in here for just over two weeks,” said Wysire, sitting down on the cot beside Faquire and changing the subject before Eriane went any deeper. “We just came with Djaisiuk tonight, but none of us has been here to see you at all before now, as far as I know, except for me, earlier today.”

“I saw you once,” said Eriane quietly. “Do you remember that?”

Faquire thought hard. “I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I remember several of you coming, but I don’t think that it was real. There was a point where I couldn’t separate dreaming from waking. I remember you coming, Wysire, and talking to me. But I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, that was today,” nodded Wysire.

“No, it was a few days ago,” said Faquire. “You had a needle. A syringe, rather. I don’t know what was in it.”

Wysire looked appalled. “That wasn’t me!” he assured Faquire. “That had to have been a dream.”

Faquire nodded slowly. “Yes, I thought that it was. I remember nothing but dreams for a long time. I don't know how long it was. It could have been days or weeks. What happened to me?”

“I don’t know,” said Eriane, concern evident in his voice. “But you’ll need to watch and be careful so that it doesn’t happen again.”

“Djaisiuk seems to think that you’ll be alright now,” said Wysire. “I’m sure that he wouldn’t have left otherwise.”

“I remember . . ." began Faquire. “I think . . . . Did he hit me? Did Djaisiuk hit me?”

Eriane and Wysire exchanged glances, then Eriane nodded. “Yes,” he said. “He did hit you.”

“I felt it,” said Faquire. “I heard the noise, and it hurt. I thought that he had hit me. I couldn’t believe that he would do that, but somehow I knew then that it wasn’t a dream. I felt pain in the dreams, but never from him.” He raised his hand and rubbed his left cheek. “I wouldn’t ever dream such a thing as Djaisiuk hitting me.”

“Do you want something for that?” asked Eriane. “Does it hurt?”

Faquire looked at him and tried to smile. “No,” he said. “It’s strange, I know, but I don’t mind. I don’t think that Djaisiuk has ever struck anyone in his life. I suppose that that makes me special.” He smiled again and gave a quiet sort of exhalation that remotely resembled a laugh.

Eriane and Wysire both smiled brightly, not so much at the words as at the life that seemed to be coming back into Faquire.

“Yes, indeed,” agreed Wysire. “I’d be almost willing to bet that he’s never hit anyone else. I’m not sure that he ever would again either.”

“Where are the others?” asked Faquire. “How are they?”

“Most of them are well,” said Eriane. “Jaeger, Jade, Leil, Detrin, Cycil, and Sandy will be heading towards bed now, I’d think. I imagine that Djaisiuk is too, come to think of it. He stayed up past his usual hour of retiring to come and eat dinner with us. Creole and Christopher are both prisoners like yourself, as you remember, but Wysire says that they are doing fairly well. He was able to visit both of them today.”

Faquire's face fell a little. He was silent for a moment, then asked, "Then you are all working for them?"

Eriane licked his lips, unsure of what to say. Wysire reached forward and laid a hand on Faquire's arm.

"If we weren't, then you would have died, Faquire," he said. "Djaisiuk brought you back, but I doubt that anyone else would have been able to do so. Eriane, would you have known to do what he did?"

"No," Eriane shook his head. "Now that I've seen it, I can understand what he was doing, but I wouldn't have known to do it myself. I certainly wouldn't have hit you, Faquire."

Wysire smiled. "I don't think that any of us would have done that. But somehow it worked."

Faquire was still quiet, and Wysire looked at him with concern.

"You say that there are gaps in your memory," he asked. "How much do you remember?"

Faquire frowned, not looking at them. "Not much," he said. "It's still very unclear." He paused again.

"Can you tell us what you do remember?" asked Wysire encouragingly.

“It’s so strange,” said Faquire slowly. “Apart from the dreams, I don’t remember anything but the first day on the ship. We realized that we were going to be split. You all went with them, and we three did not. Three of the soldiers brought us out of the ship. They were rough, I remember, and had very strong grips.” He unconsciously rubbed his upper right arm at the memory. “We saw Djaisiuk, when we got off of the ship, and realized that he was going to work for them too. I remember that. Then they separated us. I didn’t know if I’d ever see Creole or Christopher or any of you again. It was very frightening. I remember that they brought me in here and left me for a long time; it may have been a day or two. They never turn out the light in here, so I can’t tell whether it’s day or night, except judging by whether or not I’m tired and how often they bring me food. Horrid stuff, that! It's nothing like Komislavian food. I was afraid that I'd die from that long before they decided to kill me. Kandryl came a few times to ask if I’d changed my mind about working for them, but I said that I wouldn’t. I think that I was rude to him. He finally stopped coming.”

Faquire stopped and took a deep breath. “I think that it’s coming back to me, somewhat,” he said, his voice growing a little clearer and stronger the more that he spoke. “I remember more now than I did. I remember that after Kandryl stopped coming, medics would come and draw samples from me and run tests on me. I fought back against them at first. One wanted to draw a blood sample, and I waited until he was near me, then I struck him. I knocked the needle out of his hand and stepped on it. The guards grabbed hold of me and held me, but I continued to struggle, so much so that they couldn’t take the sample. They were very upset, and I thought that it was funny. I still do. I didn’t let them know that I thought that, but I did laugh a little after they left. They try so hard to be superior and condescending to us, but I could make them lose their tempers. They couldn’t control me. They came again later though. This time the guards held me and they injected something into my neck. It made me dizzy, but I could still see and feel everything that was happening, though it all swam before my eyes terribly. They took the samples then and ran a few tests, I think. They left me, but the drug didn’t wear off for an hour or more. I couldn’t stand or even sit. The next day, I still fought, so they used the drug on me again. I didn’t care. I still tried to fight them, but I couldn’t then. I think that I must have put up enough of a fight that day that they had to give me too much of the drug. That was when I first started dreaming and not being able to tell if I was awake. I think that I was awake some of the time, but I kept seeing things and feeling things that weren’t real. It was so strange and terrible! I didn’t know what to do. They left me alone, thankfully, for most of the next day, and I felt that I had recovered. They took me out of here that day, I think. That was the day that I saw you, Eriane; I remember that now. They stabbed my foot terribly with that awful thing. It hurt badly, but it was so much better than that drug that they gave me. It was so nice to see you that day. You told me about the others, didn’t you? You said that they were doing well, I think. I remember you mentioning Creole and Christopher, didn’t you?”

“I did, I think,” replied Eriane. “But I believe that it was only to say that we had had no word of them or of you.”

Faquire nodded. “Yes, that was probably it.” He was quiet for a moment, looking down again as if in thought. His voice was much clearer now, and he seemed almost back to his normal self, though he still seemed very tired. “After that, things went back to how they had been at first,” he continued after a pause. “I still liked to fight them, not because I thought that it would do any good; I just didn’t want them to think that I had stopped caring or that they could scare me. Then they gave me some other drug. It was worse than the one that would make me dizzy. I could still see, but I couldn’t move. I wasn't numb, and I could still feel my arms and legs and all, but I couldn't move. It did something to my mind too. It was like I was falling asleep, but like I never quite did. It’s hard to explain. I felt that I was awake, but that nothing around me was real. I was never awake, but I was never asleep. I saw things and felt things, but none of them were real. But they weren’t dreams either. I tried to fight back, to get back to what was real, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t think either. I fought it for as long as I could, but I finally just stopped trying. It was terrible! I wanted to fight, but I couldn’t. For days I couldn’t. So I stopped trying. I don’t know how long it lasted. I thought that I was dying, but I was afraid that I wasn’t. I was afraid that it might continue forever. I wanted it to end! Then you came with Djaisiuk. But I didn’t know whether he was real either. He had never come in any of the dreams, though it seemed like I would see him in my thoughts sometimes. It’s so hard to explain in words! When he helped me to stand up, I still didn’t know if it was real. I had never stood up in the dreams, because I couldn’t. I had tried, but I couldn’t. It felt more real; like I was in a tunnel where I could see a little bit of the real world, but the false world was still all around me. But I wasn’t entirely sure even then of whether the little bit that was clearer was actually real. I wanted it to be real, but I didn’t think that it was. I didn’t know. I only knew that somehow it was different from the dreams. I wanted to get to it, to the part that was real, but I was afraid to try. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to get to it. Then Djaisiuk hit me. I knew that that was real. It couldn’t have been a dream. Somehow I knew that it was real, and then everything started to get clearer. I don’t know how. I almost wanted him to hit me again so that I’d be more sure. But he didn’t. He didn’t even talk to me. That’s why I spoke to him. I wanted to get back to real life. I wanted him to tell me that this was real. But he didn’t." Faquire paused again, looking down at the floor. "Why didn’t he?” he asked at last.

Eriane looked at Wysire, thinking him better equipped to answer the question. Wysire had to think for a moment before he had a possible answer.

“You know that Djaisiuk doesn’t like to talk,” he said. “Probably he knew that it would not be necessary for him to tell you that this was real. I would think that he knew that Eriane and I could do that just as well. So, he left. His own speech was unnecessary. But he did get us started. Also, if he had spoken, you might have thought it a dream, considering the fact that he doesn’t speak much in real life.”

“And now I understand why,” said Faquire, frowning and rubbing his throat again. “My throat hurts terribly, though I think that I’m starting to get used to it. But as far as it having to be a dream because he doesn’t talk much, you must admit that he never hits people in real life either.”

“But he wouldn’t do that even in a dream!” laughed Eriane.

Wysire joined him in the laugh, and Faquire smiled.

“Oh, Faquire,” said Wysire. “It’s so good to see you back to yourself somewhat. Are you fully convinced now that this is not a dream?”

Faquire nodded, still smiling. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I am sure now. The dream-world is gone, at least for now. I can see everything clearly again.” He sighed, and then continued, “Though I don’t know what I’ll think tomorrow.”

“That’s a problem,” said Wysire. “You really oughtn’t to be left alone, Faquire. The best thing would be for you to come with us, though I doubt whether Kandryl will allow that.”

“He was willing to let us come and help him,” said Eriane to Wysire. “Perhaps he’d be willing to let Faquire come and stay with one of us for a day or two, just till he’s well again, if we promise that nothing will happen due to it.” He turned to Faquire. “You’d be willing to promise that, wouldn’t you?”

Faquire's expression hardened, and he considered for a moment. He then shook his head. “Eriane, I won’t work for them. I won’t do anything that might help them. I’d rather die than go through this last week or two again, but better that a thousand times over than working for the Vukasovians.”

“You may not have to work for them,” said Wysire. “Couldn’t you just agree not to try to run away or to cause any trouble or anything like that for a few days? They just might let you out of here to stay with one of us.”

“The only way that they’d let me out would be if they no longer considered me a threat,” replied Faquire.

Just then, another medic and two guards entered the room. The medic approached without speaking, scanner in hand, to examine Faquire. Faquire pulled back and looked at him dangerously.

“I’m back to myself now,” he said threateningly. “Come near me, and I’ll hurt you!”

The medic stopped, fully believing Faquire, and motioned for the guards. The guards moved towards Faquire, but Eriane quickly intervened.

“Please, sir,” he said to the medic. “I’ve just examined him. Look here.”

Eriane held out his own scanner to the medic, who accepted it and examined the readout suspiciously.

“I still have to perform the scan myself,” he said.

“Why?” asked Eriane. “You can see that I only just performed the scan not thirty minutes ago and that it was done on him. There’s no need for a second scan.”

The medic bristled somewhat at being ordered about by a Komislavian.

“I will perform the scan as I was ordered, whether he wills it or not,” said the medic sharply.

The guards took hold of Faquire by the arms and drew him to his feet, as the medic stepped forward. To the surprise of his friends, Faquire suddenly kicked the scanner out of the medic's hands, and aimed a second kick at the medic himself. The guards jerked Faquire backwards, slamming him against the wall, as the medic jumped back, startled at actually being attacked.

“Faquire!” cried Eriane. “Stop!”

“Faquire, they’ll kill you!” Wysire exclaimed. “Why are you doing this?”

Faquire’s eyes were wild and did not calm as he turned to look at them.

“You truly have joined them!” he snapped. “You would defend their actions and condemn mine already? Get out of here, both of you, you Vukasovian proselytes! I don’t want your help or your advice if this is the form that it takes!”

Eriane took a step back, shocked and uncertain, but Wysire stepped forward and placed his right hand against Faquire’s face, ignoring the two guards who still held Faquire firmly between them.

“You know that we only want to help you,” said Wysire softly. “We don’t want to see you hurt.”

Faquire looked at him, breathing heavily from this recent exertion in his weakened state. He struggled for a moment with his emotions, then spoke in a breaking voice.

“I’m sorry,” he almost whispered. “But please go. You will weaken my resolve if you stay. I don’t want to give in to them, Wysire; I can’t. Please just go.”

The medic had been speaking into a communicator, and now a second medic entered. This one held a small syringe.

“No!” exclaimed Eriane on seeing this. “You can’t drug him again! You almost killed him the last time. He’s weak; at least wait until he’s stronger.”

“We know that he’s weak,” said the one holding the syringe. “That’s why we’re giving him only a small dose. This won’t kill him.”

Eriane and Wysire stood by and watched helplessly as this second medic approached Faquire. The guards each placed one of their feet on Faquire’s feet, preventing him from being able to kick again. Faquire winced at this last proceeding, showing that the guards did not particularly care if they hurt him. The medic stepped forward, took hold of Faquire’s head by the hair, pulled it back, and plunged the thin needle into Faquire’s neck.

The effect was almost immediate. As the medic let go of Faquire and stepped back, the strength, so newly found, seemed again to leave Faquire. The guards held him up, but his head fell forward and raised again only slowly, his eyes blinking as if he were only half-conscious. The first medic stepped forward again and moved the scanner up and down, examining Faquire. Once this was completed, the medics left, and the guards (none too gently) laid Faquire back down on his cot. Faquire lay on his back, breathing raggedly, looking up at the ceiling.

When the three were again left alone in the room, Eriane stepped up to the cot.

“Faquire?” he said quietly. "Are you alright?"

“You’re still here?” asked Faquire. He was still breathing heavily, but his voice was firm. “Yes, I’m alright. Just a bit dizzy.”

“You’re still able to think clearly then?” asked Wysire.

“Yes, I’m able to think fine,” replied Faquire a little sharply. “They just wanted to be able to control me physically. I think that they prefer it when I’m fully aware of what’s happening and know that I’ve no way to combat it.”

“Faquire,” began Eriane slowly. “We may still be able to get you out of here.”

“I won’t serve them!” snapped Faquire. “I prefer their enmity to their amiability.” He paused and closed his eyes, almost as if trying to catch his breath. “If you were to spend a few days in here as a prisoner, you might change your mind about them too.”

Wysire looked deeply concerned. “There’s something wrong with you, Faquire,” he began, but was interrupted by a sharp laugh.

“Yes, there’s something wrong with me!” exclaimed Faquire, opening his eyes again but still not looking at them. “I’m a prisoner on Vukosava, less than one week’s journey from my homeland, with no hope of escape! I’ve no way to tell my father, mother, brothers, or sisters that I’m alive, and I’ve really no hope that I’ll ever even see them again.” His voice began to tremble and break as he continued, “My unborn brother may never meet me, his older sibling. We could live the rest of our lives, only five days apart, and yet never meet!”

Faquire closed his eyes, and Eriane and Wysire looked at him with painful expressions. Wysire opened his mouth to speak again, but Faquire continued.

“My friends are either serving those beasts who keep me here or suffering at the hands of them as I am,” he continued in a voice that was now low and full of anger. “I’ve really no way of knowing whether they are better or worse off than I am, or even whether they’re still alive. The only possible door of relief open to me is death! You said that I would have died if you hadn't come; then why did you come?! Why didn’t you let me die? Why did you bring me back to this?”

“Faquire, can’t you see that your anger is destroying you?” asked Wysire. “You’ll kill yourself if you continue thus. I know that you want to end this trial, but that decision is not yours to make. Your choice right now is not what will happen but how you will react to and handle what does happen.”

Faquire was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t want to think about it, Wysire,” he said at last, his eyes still closed. “I cannot forgive them. They’re cruel, vicious, inhuman, self-centered, self-righteous cowards.”

Wysire did not reply, but stood looking down at Faquire steadily. He knew that to this statement no reply was necessary. If he let Faquire think about it, he would understand. But Faquire only sighed and shook his head.

“I won’t think about it,” he said simply. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“What if you were to stay with Djaisiuk?” asked Eriane suddenly.

Faquire turned his head to look at Eriane, but everything swam so horribly in his vision that he soon turned to look up at the ceiling again, preferring plain, unbroken whiteness to the confused jumble of shapes and colors of his visitors.

“Stay with Djaisiuk?” he repeated.

“As an alternative to staying here,” said Eriane. “You wouldn’t have to serve them, but perhaps Djaisiuk would be willing to act as ‘warden’ for you, at least until you’re well again.”

Faquire lay quiet for a moment, thinking.

“If Djaisiuk was willing,” he said slowly, “I might consent. Not that I’d serve them,” he added quickly, “but I wouldn’t mind a chance to talk with Djaisiuk. I’d still like to know why he serves them.”

“We all would,” murmured Eriane.

“Faquire, I’d like to be able to talk with you more,” began Wysire.

Faquire shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “If we were back on the ship, I’d probably come and seek you, but we’re not there! We’re here, on the planet of our enemies. Everything is different. I’m a prisoner, and you are a Komislavian working for the Vukasovians. I don’t want to discuss any of the things that I know you think ought to be addressed. I know what’s wrong with me, and I’m content to leave it so until situations change.”

Wysire frowned, ever so slightly, and looked on silently as if weighing whether he ought to push the subject now. Finally, he sighed quietly and lowered his eyes.

“We’ll go and talk to Kandryl now about the possibility of you staying with Djaisiuk,” said Eriane to Faquire, guessing that Wysire had decided not to pursue the subject. “I can’t bear the thought of you having to stay here like this, suffering such inhuman actions as they take!”

Faquire gave a short laugh. “I had become very used to this treatment, really. I’m only surprised that they didn’t have the syringe ready and waiting when the first group entered. They must have thought that I’d be too weak or too frightened to fight back this time. I suppose I should be offended.” He smiled.

“Faquire, please don’t fight back again tonight,” Eriane pleaded. “You’re still not well; you need to conserve your strength. They may go too far and do you permanent damage without meaning to do so. Please don’t push them.”

Faquire closed his eyes. “I doubt that I’ll be able to fight back again tonight. Normally, this much of that dizzy-medicine wouldn’t disable me, but, as you say, I’m not entirely well. Don’t worry; I won’t fight anymore tonight.”

Wysire stepped forward and gave Faquire’s hand a squeeze.

“Faquire, I’ll be praying for you,” he said. He looked as if he wanted to say more but thought that he shouldn’t. He stepped back at last.

“We’ll return as soon as we can,” said Eriane. “Hopefully Kandryl will agree to the plan.”

Eriane and Wysire then said goodbye to Faquire and left. It was getting late, and most of the other boys would be in bed by now, but they went straight to Kandryl’s quarters.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 25 - An Unpleasant Meeting

2010-07-27T22:13:00.000-04:00

Djaisiuk had needed a distraction. Tonight, of all nights, he needed to distract Kandryl, to give him something out of the ordinary to consider. What better action than for Djaisiuk himself to leave his workroom at the sixth hour, rather than retiring, and to join the others of his group for a meal to which they had invited him some days earlier? Djaisiuk wished to see them regardless, but he had never had time to do so before now, nor was he willing to awaken in Kandryl the suspicion that there might be an emotional tie between himself and the others. Now, this latter consideration bore less weight than did the necessity of providing some distraction, some singular occurrence, which would give Kandryl pause. So it was that Djaisiuk did not eat the meal provided to him on the night of the fourteenth day of capture. Rather, he continued to work until nearly the sixth hour, at which time he left his room and headed directly towards the second level of the Detu section.

There were seven boys sitting around the large table when Djaisiuk entered the eating room. He approached the table without hesitation and was not at all surprised when a dead silence descended on the group as they noticed him. He did not speak, however, but silently sat down in an empty chair between Jade and Detrin. Jaeger, who sat at Jade’s right, was the first to break the silence.

“Djaisiuk,” said Jaeger, “this is a pleasant surprise. We’ve been hoping for some time that you’d come and join us. How have you been?”

Djaisiuk did not answer, but simply reached forward to type a meal order into the central keypad, preferring to send his order non-verbally.

Jade chuckled. “It’s reassuring to know that you haven’t changed,” he said. “I’m afraid that you’ll find the fare much poorer here than that to which we were used on the ship.”

“I wish that Faquire was here,” said Sandy. “Even if he couldn’t prepare the food himself, at least he could order the foods that we all ate. I’m sure it would help to keep us healthier.”

“The foods here are specially designed to keep you healthy,” said Eriane. “If you started getting sickly, I’m sure that the doctors would intervene with your diet, but there’s little likelihood of that.”

“I think that we’re all pretty well trained as far as diet goes,” said Jaeger. “Even if Faquire isn’t choosing the foods, I’m sure that we can all be trusted to keep ourselves in fairly good health.”

“Do you get to order your own dinner each night, Djaisiuk or is it done without your input?” asked Cycil. He waited for an answer, but Djaisiuk did not even acknowledge the question. “We’ve been hoping that you would come, as Jaeger said,” he continued, “but Kiacyl always said that you were busy. It really is so good to see you!”

Djaisiuk still did not look up at them, but sat silently looking down at the table.

“We were just talking about Kiacyl, in fact,” said Eriane. “He’s rather late again. He’s been coming regularly and eating with us, as he may have mentioned. He generally arrives shortly after Detrin, but he’s almost an hour late now. Do you know why he might be late?”

“No,” answered Djaisiuk. His meal arrived, and he began to eat silently, still not looking at any of the others. Eriane seemed surprised to have received an answer but soon realized that his had been the only ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question asked thus far.

Detrin smiled. “It truly is good to see you, Djaisiuk,” he said. He then laughed a little and continued, “And I agree with Jade: it’s comforting to know that you really haven’t changed. Will you come again tomorrow night?”

Djaisiuk chose to ignore this question too.

“I’d guess that that means either that he doesn’t know or that he hasn’t made up his mind yet,” suggested Eriane.

“He probably won’t come,” said Leil, “if we pester him with too many questions. He may not have changed, but it seems that we all have. Can you imagine us making him the center of attention for this long at a meal on board the ship? I don’t think that he’d be happy at all.”

“You’re right, Leil,” said Jaeger smiling. “Djaisiuk, it’s wonderful to have you, as I said earlier, even if you don’t want to talk. We won’t bother you any more, if you’d rather that we didn’t.” Then, turning to Jade, he said, “You were saying something, I think, weren’t you?”

“I was just saying,” said Jade, “that the last time that Kiacyl was late was the time that he went to see Creole, Christopher, and Faquire. I wonder if he’s gone back to see them again.”

“I wish that we could see them,” said Sandy. “Do you suppose that Kandryl would let us, if we asked him?”

“It’s possible, but I feel rather inclined to doubt it,” said Eriane. “Remember that Wysire tried that a few days after we arrived.”

“Where is Wysire?” asked Detrin. “He’s late as well.”

“You’re right; I hadn’t noticed,” Eriane said. “He’s usually the last to arrive, but he is generally here by now, isn’t he?”

“Maybe he’s with Kiacyl,” said Cycil smilingly.

Kiacyl and Wysire enter the room together and approach the table at which the boys were seated.

“Hello,” said Wysire, stepping around the table toward his normal seat. “Sorry we’re late.”

“So you were together?” asked Sandy. “We wondered.”

“Yes, we—” began Kiacyl, but he then cut off suddenly. “Djaisiuk?!” he exclaimed.

Djaisiuk stopped eating and looked up as Kiacyl addressed him. Wysire followed Kiacyl’s gaze and his eyes widened as well. He quickly smiled though.

“Djaisiuk!” exclaimed Wysire. “It’s so good to see you. How have you been?”

Djaisiuk had not taken his eyes from Kiacyl, but he now lowered them again without acknowledging Wysire’s question. He continued to sit silently, and he did not begin eating again immediately.

“Do you ignore your friends as much as you ignore me?” Kiacyl asked Djaisiuk sharply.

“I don’t think that he cares to talk tonight,” remarked Jaeger. “We’re just happy to have him here.”

Wysire nodded in understanding and sat down, but Kiacyl did not look away from Djaisiuk. Djaisiuk silently returned to his meal.

“May I ask how you were able to come tonight, Djaisiuk?” Kiacyl asked in a rather harsh voice. “You usually don’t seem to have the time, and I thought that you didn’t care whether you did or not. Why tonight?”

Jaeger frowned at Kiacyl’s tone of voice and the younger boys looked uncomfortable. Jade cleared his throat.

“We don’t question Djaisiuk’s actions,” said Jade. “No one does.”

“And he wouldn’t explain them, even if we did question them,” said Detrin.

“It just seems a remarkable coincidence,” Kiacyl continued, glancing at Wysire and then looking back at Djaisiuk. “I’d like to know what influenced him to come tonight of all nights.”

“Maybe he missed us,” suggested Sandy.

Kiacyl raised his eyebrows. “Is that possible?” Kiacyl asked Djaisiuk in a sarcastic tone of voice. “I’m not asking if it’s true; I’m only asking whether that idea is even conceivable. Is it?”

Djaisiuk no longer acknowledged either Kiacyl’s presence or his words. Jaeger and several of the other boys, however, bristled at Kiacyl’s insinuations.

“Kiacyl!” said Jaeger sharply. “Is this the way that you talk to him when you work with him? Is this how you treat Djaisiuk every day? It’s a wonder that he still works for your people at all, if this is the way that he’s treated.”

“Why?” asked Kiacyl. “He acts like he doesn’t have any feelings; he seems to want people to think that he hasn’t; why should he be upset when people suggest that what he tries so hard to portray might actually be true?”

Djaisiuk continued to eat his meal unconcernedly and seemed to take no further notice of the conversation, either of the attack or of the defense. Jaeger, Jade, Leil, and Eriane, however, seemed quite upset, and the others were clearly not happy with Kiacyl’s accusations.

“What difference does it make to you why he came?” asked Jade. “You get to see him all day every day. We never get to see him. We’re happy that he’d come, regardless of the reason. Are you so tired of his company that you’d rather not spend the evening in his presence? If so, then you’re welcome to leave.”

“He won’t even look at you!” exclaimed Kiacyl. “He won’t speak to you. Why do you defend him so ardently?”

“He’s my friend!” answered Jade.

“Indeed? Tell me honestly, how many words has he spoken to you in the last two weeks? Or in the last two years, for that matter; I’d like to know. How many times since you all arrived here has he sought your company? I can assure you that he’s never spoken of any of you in my presence, although I’ve heard you all speak of him often enough. Does he even care about any of you?”

“Stop it!” cried Leil. “He is my friend too, and I won’t sit by and listen to you malign him so. You don’t even know him!”

“And you do? How often has he spoken to you in the last twelve months? How many times before you all came here did he ever come and talk to you? How often has he even looked at you? If you really know him, tell me this, who would he call his best friend? Who does he enjoy being with? What is his favorite subject to discuss? Is the answer to all of these questions ‘himself’?”

“Kiacyl, stop it,” Jaeger ordered authoritatively. “You can drop the subject now, or you can leave. Take your choice.”

“Again, I have to ask, why do you defend him?” persisted Kiacyl, ignoring the dangerous tone in Jaeger’s voice and the angry looks of most of the boys. “And why do you get so offended at my questions? If the answers are in his favor, then why not state them? And if they’re not, then why do you refuse to admit it?”

Jade and Leil both stood suddenly as if they would remove Kiacyl from the table forcibly, but Jaeger stopped them.

“He’s Vukasovian,” said Jaeger. “For all we know, he may be trying to incite some sort of violence. Let it go. If he insists on continuing this slander, then I suggest that we all ignore him for the remainder of the evening.”

“And every evening following, if it comes to that,” muttered Eriane quietly.

“I won’t listen to him talk about any one of the members of our group like that any more,” said Jade, still looking at Kiacyl, though speaking to Jaeger.

“Kiacyl, what is your goal in saying all of this?” asked Wysire softly. “Are you truly trying to learn, or are you only trying to prove a point?”

Wysire’s voice seemed to have a calming effect on the group. The tension seemed to lessen somewhat and everyone seemed to breath a little easier. Kiacyl looked at Wysire and considered for a moment, as Jade and Leil sat down slowly, though they still looked half dangerous.

“I want to know why you all seem to care for him so much when he doesn’t seem to care about any of you,” answered Kiacyl slowly, the sarcastic tone almost completely gone from his voice. “I don’t understand.”

Wysire nodded. “It is hard to understand,” he said. “We all love Djaisiuk because he is both our fellow Komislavian and our brother in Christ. Even if he didn’t care about us at all, we’d still care for him because of who he is. But you don’t understand Djaisiuk either. He does care about all of us, but he doesn’t show it in the same way that we do. He’s different, yes, but he is still human, and he does still have feelings. He may choose not to show them, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t exist.”

“Creole could always read Djaisiuk’s feelings,” said Sandy quietly. “Djaisiuk could have a whole conversation with Creole without ever speaking a word.”

“That reminds me,” said Wysire. “If you don’t mind my changing the subject, Kiacyl, I have word for everyone.”

“I’m sure that no one minds your changing the subject,” said Jaeger. “Please do so.”

“It’s just as well that Djaisiuk is here, as it’s for him too,” continued Wysire as Kiacyl slowly sat down himself, having remained standing throughout the entire previous exchange. “Kiacyl and I went to see Faquire, Creole, and Christopher, this evening, and the latter two send their greetings.”

There were several exclamations at this, and Wysire was immediately bombarded with questions. Djaisiuk alone made no reaction; indeed it would almost seem that he hadn’t heard Wysire’s statement. Kiacyl watched him closely, his expression still dark, but Djaisiuk still didn’t look up.

“I’ll tell you all that I can,” said Wysire, as soon as he could make himself heard above the other boys, “if you’ll just let me speak.”

Wysire proceeded to describe their visit to the three boys in great detail. He told all that he had seen and heard and repeated nearly every word of their conversations. The boys sat in rapt attention, occasionally making a comment or an exclamation at various times in the narrative. They were all worried for Faquire and indignant about Creole and Christopher. Eriane sank deeper and deeper into a gloomy silence as Wysire continued.

When Wysire finished, there was silence for a time. All seemed absorbed in their own thoughts. Kiacyl was the first to speak.

“Did you know that we’d gone to see them, Djaisiuk?” he asked somewhat sharply. “Is that why you came tonight?”

“No,” said Djaisiuk, not looking at Kiacyl. He had finished his meal and sat now sipping a glass of water, still looking down at the table. His expression had not changed at all through Wysire’s narrative, nor did it change now.

“Djaisiuk,” said Wysire quietly, “do you think that there’s anything that we can do for Faquire? I don’t know what’s wrong with him, and I don’t know what can be done.”

“Could it be something medical?” asked Jade when Djaisiuk did not answer.

All looked to Eriane for an opinion, but he only shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I wish that they’d allow me to go and examine him, but I suppose that Wysire and I would need to go together, in case it’s a combination of both of our areas.”

Wysire nodded. “I wish that I knew whether it was psychological or physiological. If this is just something physical that they’ve done intentionally -- some sort of drug -- then that would make it somewhat easier. But his expression!” Wysire shuddered. “It was a look of utter hopelessness, like a sense of perfect futility. It was the sort of indifference that you see in people who have given up trying, or who have lost all hope. He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“I can understand how one might lose all hope after being imprisoned in such a small place as you describe for so long,” said Leil quietly.

“But surely then he would have reacted all the more joyfully at seeing one of his friends,” said Jade. “It doesn’t make sense, unless they’ve done something to him.”

Jaeger shrugged. “You’re the doctor, Eriane,” he said. “Does it sound like a physical problem?”

Eriane shook his head sadly. “I don’t know,” he said. “Without examining him myself, I can’t begin to guess what it might be. Your description makes it sound more psychological, Wysire, but if you could find no answer, then there must be more to it. If I could only examine him, I might have some better idea.”

The boys were all silent again for a moment, then Djaisiuk suddenly rose and started to turn away from the table.

“You’re not going, are you?” exclaimed Wysire.

“Oh, Djaisiuk, you can’t mean to go yet,” said Jade. “The evening is just beginning. Surely you don’t have to leave so soon, do you?”

Djaisiuk had indeed intended to leave. His goal in coming had been accomplished, and there was no further need for him to stay. He would normally have been asleep by this time, and his body was telling him that it was late. He wanted to go to bed now. However, when they addressed him so, he turned back to look at them, but whether he intended to answer or not will never be known, for at that moment a young Vukasovian messenger approached the table. This newcomer looked over all of the boys, his eyes finally stopping on Kiacyl, the only Vukasovian at the table.

“Which is the one called Jysuke?” he asked.

Kiacyl silently indicated Djaisiuk, and the young man immediately stepped to the latter's side. He handed a message to him, which Djaisiuk accepted it wordlessly. This is what he read:

“Your former shipmate, Faquire, is suffering severe side-effects from a Vukasovian mind drug. The drug had been fully eradicated from his body two days ago, but the symptoms persist. I desire you to attempt to revive him. You may bring whichever of your compatriots you feel are necessary, but no more than three. — Kandryl.”
Djaisiuk finished reading the message and then looked up at the messenger.

“I am to escort you,” said the young man. “Also whichever of the other Komislavians that you may wish to bring.”

Djaisiuk turned and looked at the other boys. “Him,” he said quietly, indicating Wysire, and then said, “Him,” again, indicating Eriane.

The escort turned to Wysire and Eriane. “You two will accompany us,” he said.

The boys all looked at each other, startled.

“Where are we going?” asked Eriane, remaining seated.

“And why?” asked Wysire, rising from his seat to follow. “What is all of this?”

“I’m just obeying orders,” the Vukasovian replied sternly. “And I suggest that you do the same. Come.”

Eriane and Wysire looked at each other, then at Djaisiuk. Eriane stood also as Djaisiuk moved around the table and began to walk away, in the direction of the main entrance. The escort looked after him, motioned Eriane and Wysire to follow, then walked quickly after Djaisiuk, overtaking him before he was half-way to the exit. He then looked back to make sure that Eriane and Wysire were following.

Eriane had given a quick goodnight to the other boys, saying that he was sure that this would be interesting and that he and Wysire would tell them what it was all about the next evening, if they could. Then he and Wysire had hurried after Djaisiuk and his ‘escort’.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 24 - Difficulties

2010-07-26T21:21:00.000-04:00

Drayl cleared his throat to draw Kandryl's attention. Kandryl looked up and frowned. He did not disapprove of the interruption, but it was obvious by Drayl’s bearing that he bore bad news. Kandryl was never in the mood for bad news. He leaned back in his chair and looked steadily at Drayl and the doctor whom the former had brought with him.

“Sir,” began Drayl, “it’s about the young Komislavian on whom we tested the mind drug.”

“Yes?” said Kandryl impatiently.

“As I told you,” continued Drayl, “it was over-effective: it not only killed his rebellious nature, but it also seemed to destroy his will entirely. He no longer seems to care about anything.”

“Yes,” said Kandryl again, more impatiently. “You told me this some time ago, and I said that the drug was obviously too strong for Komislavians. We’ll not use it.”

Drayl looked at the doctor, and the latter picked up the thread.

“Well, sir,” said the doctor nervously, “it may be too late to decide that. It seems that the situation is worsening. The subject no longer reacts to any stimulus whatsoever. He still refuses even to eat or drink. It’s as though he no longer cares whether he lives or dies, or as though he's dead already.”

Kandryl frowned. "I believe that I made it clear that you were to have ceased using the drug eight days ago," he said in a low, dangerous voice.

"We did," said Drayl. "He has not been given any since then."

"That’s the strangest part of it, sir,” said the doctor. “As master Drayl says, the boy has had only three doses. Those were so effective that we gave him no more. Even those had been completely washed out of his system six days after they were administered, and yet he still has not recovered. We’ve been forced to feed him intravenously, but at this point, I don’t know how much longer he may live. We have no idea as to what is wrong with him, so we do not know what to do in order to treat him. It's as though his mind has stopped working entirely, and we don't know how to make it start again.”

"The brain is still functioning, but the patterns are highly irregular," said Drayl. "We've tried numerous drugs, but his brain patterns refuse to return to normal. The brain activity in total has been decreasing steadily for the last five days. If he continues like this, his brain will die within another seven days, and there will be nothing that we can do to stop it. In another four days, he'll be beyond recall."

Kandryl was quiet for a moment, thinking. This was upsetting news, to say the least. It would not do to have any of the boys die before the trial period was over. No, they all ought to be both alive and healthy, even the prisoners. If one died or suffered permanent injury, there would be questions. And in the case of this one, the answers might be less than satisfactory. No, the boy needed to be kept alive and well, if possible. But was it possible? Kandryl looked up at Drayl and frowned.

"I put you in charge of this," he said in a low, menacing voice. "I expected you to be better able to handle it."

"I am a master of torture," replied Drayl, bristling somewhat himself, though he did his best to hide it. "My speciality is the infliction of damage, not the healing of it."

“One of the boy's friends visited him today,” the doctor interposed quickly. “The counselor, I think. Even he was unable to produce any change in the boy.”

Kandryl looked at the doctor sharply. Just how had Wysire been able to go down there and visit the boys? On what authority did he enter the cells? How did he even know where to find them? These questions would have to be answered later. For now, the interview between the two might prove helpful. Regardless, it was obvious that Drayl and his doctor-assistant would not. Kandryl dismissed both of them, saying that he would be in contact with them soon.

Once the two were gone, Kandryl accessed the security recording of Faquire’s cell. It did not take long to find the visit. He listened closely to the exchange between the two boys, or rather to Wysire’s monologue. Seeing Kiacyl there answered Kandryl’s earlier questions. Something might need to be done involving that score, but not at this time. At the moment there were more important matters that needed attention. But as to the interview providing any answers regarding Faquire, it served only to show that even Wysire, the master of the Komislavian mind, had little or no hope for the sick boy.

Kandryl leaned back, closed his eyes, and considered. The boy must not die if there was any way to keep him alive. Quite apart from the experiment itself, Kandryl saw now from watching the interview in the cells that Faquire's death might well have severe ill-effects on the other boys who were now working willingly. At some point in time, it might be beneficial to see what the effect of losing a comrade would be on a group of boys, but he had no desire to try such an experiment with this group. Perhaps the next, or the one after that, would serve. Given all of this, however, how could Faquire be restored to health? The doctors had done all that they could. Eriane might be summoned, KandrylVukasovian doctors? Kandryl doubted it. And if he were allowed to try but failed, all of the other free boys would very quickly find out about it, and that would not be pleasant if there was no cure forthcoming. No, there must be another answer.

Slowly Kandryl opened his eyes as a new idea came to him. There was one who might know exactly what to do; one whose intellect seemed to know no bounds. True, he was no physician, but that would be of little consequence. There were yet three days before Faquire would be beyond recall, and that would surely be enough time for him to find a solution. Of course, the situation would have to be handled delicately. Kandryl would not want him to know that even the Vukasovians did not know what to do.

Kandryl's thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a guard entered. The guard came to attention before the desk at which Kandryl sat. Kandryl acknowledged his presence and awaited the guard’s explanation for this intrusion.

“Sir,” the guard began, “the Komislavian Djaisiuk has left his quarters.”

Kandryl’s eyebrows rose before he could catch himself. He sat forward slowly, considering his words before speaking.

“Where has he gone?” he asked.

“He appears to be heading to the Detu section, sir,” the guard replied.

He’s going to see his friends, thought Kandryl. Why today? Was it possible that he knew of the state of Faquire? Certainly not. How could he? This could work to Kandryl's advantage however, he realized. He would watch this meeting carefully as it progressed. Wysire was sure to speak of Faquire’s condition. How might Djaisiuk react? Would he react at all? And even if Djaisiuk did not, what might the other boys say on the subject? Perhaps one or more of them would have some suggestions. This seemed unlikely though, considering the hopelessness of the counselor. No, it was most likely that his last idea would have to be utilized.

With this thought, Kandryl began what few preparations would be needed as he carefully watched the ongoing security monitoring of a certain rather large table in the main eating room of the second level of the Detu section.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 23 - Prison Counselor

2010-07-23T23:55:00.000-04:00

Wysire had asked Kiacyl again two nights after he had visited the three imprisoned boys, and again Kiacyl had put him off. The next night, Wysire had asked once more, and this time Kiacyl had agreed. They had set up a time and place to meet the next night, after both had finished work and before they met the others for supper.

The next night was the fourteenth night of capture, and Kiacyl found himself again in the prison blocks, this time with Wysire at his side. He took Wysire first to Faquire's room which was closest. When they entered the room, Kiacyl saw that Faquire was lying on his back on his cot again (or still, he was not sure which), his face turned up to the ceiling, his eyes open. Kiacyl could not be sure, but he thought that the boy looked less well now than he had previously. Wysire looked immediately concerned: to him, Faquire looked both thinner and paler than was normal for him.

"Hello," said Kiacyl. "I've come again, and I've brought someone with me this time."

Faquire did not move or turn. Wysire waited a moment, then stepped up to the cot. He gently took Faquire's hand and leaned over him.

"Faquire," he said softly.

Faquire still did not move, so Wysire lent further forward over him so that their eyes met. Faquire still seemed to take no notice of Wysire, looking up at him with empty, expressionless eyes. Wysire held his gaze for a long moment with a look of intermingled pain, worry, and compassion, then pulled back again a little. Faquire's eyes remained fixed immovably on the ceiling.

"Faquire," Wysire tried again. "Don't you recognize me?"

There was no response.

"It's Wysire," he continued. "I've come to see you. Won't you look at me?"

Wysire continued to talk to him, now lightly pressing his palm to Faquire's face, now gently squeezing Faquire's shoulder, and always holding tight to Faquire's left hand, but Faquire would not look at him or speak. Wysire was in tears before he would stop. Even Kiacyl felt strangely moved by the feeling with which Wysire spoke.

At last, Wysire gently laid Faquire's hand back at his side and stepped away from him. He shook his head.

"There's nothing that I can do for him here," he said. "If we were on the ship, or even in a neutral setting, it might be different, but not here. He needs to be taken home. I don't know what could be wrong with him. This is not good! This is not natural for a Komislavian. I'm afraid that he may be dying."

"What do you suggest?" asked Kiacyl quietly.

"I suggest that he be sent back to Komislava!" Wysire spoke with suppressed anger. "But I know that that is not possible. Perhaps if Eriane could examine him too . . ." He shook his head. "I just don't know."

They were both silent for a moment, then Kiacyl moved toward the door.

"We should leave now," he said. "You do still want to see the other two, don't you?"

"Yes!" Wysire answered quickly. "Yes, if I may. I can only pray that they are better."

Kiacyl silently led Wysire to the next room, but the guard at the door refused them entry.

"The medics are in there now," he said. "You'll have to wait till they've finished."

"What are they doing?" asked Wysire. "Is there something wrong with him?"

"Wrong? No, no more than should be. They're just taking blood and tissue samples and checking up on some test that they're running, they said. They should be out soon."

Kiacyl was impatient with the delay, but in the end they did not wait more than a few minutes before the door opened and two medics exited the room. Kiacyl then entered, followed by Wysire. Creole was sitting on the cot, his legs stretched out along it towards the door, his shoulders leaning back against the far wall. His hands were folded behind his head and his eyes were closed. His expression was still the same look of unrelenting self-possession that Kiacyl had noticed the first time.

"Hello," said Kiacyl. "I've come back again."

"What of it?" asked Creole indifferently, not opening his eyes.

"Do you remember me?" asked Kiacyl.

"Refresh my memory," was the response.

"I'm the one whom you called a cowardly dog."

"You'll have to be more specific. I've called a lot of you rats cowardly dogs."

Kiacyl blinked. He was very offended but awed at the same time. Creole had a boldness that was completely new to Kiacyl's experience. He looked at Wysire and saw that the latter was smiling, though Kiacyl had to admit that it looked more like a relieved smile than a laughing one. Even so, it grated on Kiacyl's nerves. Wysire quickly attempted to hide his smile when Kiacyl looked at him though, guessing, apparently, that it could be easily misinterpreted. Kiacyl frowned.

"I haven't done anything to you," Kiacyl said to Creole. "Why do you insult me?"

"You're Vukasovian, aren't you?" was Creole's quick response.

"And do you despise me because of the actions of my kinsmen? Even knowing me so little as you do?"

"Well, I might understand your anger with them then, but why me? I didn't do it to you."

"Do you condemn their actions?"

Kiacyl paused, unsure of what to say.

"Or do you condone them?" persisted Creole, his eyes still closed and his posture still relaxed.

Kiacyl felt uncomfortable and upset, so he looked to Wysire to see whether he would say something. Wysire, however, looked as though he had no desire to interrupt the exchange just yet, though he had looked upset when Creole had first shown them his arm. Wysire smiled amiably now at Kiacyl as if awaiting his reply to Creole's questions. Kiacyl felt even more annoyed at this.

"Why don't you look at me?" he at last demanded of Creole, thinking to turn Creole's attention from himself by his notice of Wysire's presence.

"I can't," replied Creole. "Those rats of your kinsmen whose actions you do not condemn have being running tests on my eyes, and I won't be able to see anything for another twenty-four hours at least. I can't even open them at the moment."

Wysire's smile failed immediately and he took a quick step forward. "Creole?" he said.

Instantly Creole sat upright and thrust out his right hand in the direction of the voice.

"Wysire?" he said, his voice and quickness of breath betraying his emotion. "Wysire, is that you?"

Wysire moved forward and took the outstretched hand. Creole pulled Wysire quickly to himself, held him by the shoulder with his left hand, and felt Wysire's face and hair with his right.

"Wysire," he said. "It's you. It's you!"

Creole grabbed Wysire to himself and embraced him, holding him tightly.

Kiacyl watched in wonder as Creole himself began to cry, still holding Wysire. Kiacyl was now very confused. A moment ago, Creole was a hard, confident young man, ready and willing to speak his mind about the whole of the Vukasovian race, regardless of the possible (or rather probable) consequences to himself. Yet here he was now, all but dissolving in tears, wrapped in the arms of a friend. Kiacyl shook his head and sighed, wondering if he ought to give up even trying to understand the Komislavians.

Creole held Wysire for a full minute before letting go. He then drew back, wiping his eyes with his right hand and laughing a little, still holding Wysire by the shoulder with his left.

"I'm sure they'd be furious if they knew I'd been crying," he said smiling. "Very bad for my eyes in this state. Oh, they sting now! But I don't care. Oh, Wysire, it's so good to see you! Or, not to see you, but to have you here."

Wysire smiled, though he knew that Creole couldn't see it. "We've all missed you too. You, Christopher, and Faquire. We pray for you three every night."

"There's not an hour that goes by that I don't think of all of you," Creole answered with feeling. "Tell me about everyone. How are you? How are all of them?"

"We're all well," said Wysire. "We meet every night for dinner, so we see each other often. There's really not much to tell. At least, not that you'd want to hear, for we are still working for the Vukasovians. But I came to find out how you were doing. How have you been?"

"Well, you've caught me on a bad day," said Creole, indicating his eyes. "This isn't usual, though this is." He indicated his legs with the last half of the sentence. "But there's really not much to tell about me either. Or, as you say, not much that you'd want to hear." His voice had assumed a slight edge to it after Wysire spoke of working for the Vukasovians, and it didn't soften as he spoke.

"Creole, please don't be angry," said Wysire. "We none of us want to work for them--"

"Then why do you?" Creole interrupted roughly.

There was silence for a moment, then Creole bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, Wysire," he said. "I didn't mean to get into this. I don't like to think about it."

Wysire nodded. "I know," he said. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"But do tell me how everyone is doing," reiterated Creole. "Tell me about each and every one of them, as much as you know. Leaving out their work, if you don't mind," he added.

Wysire smiled. He understood Creole's hunger to hear about the other boys, even if only to hear their names mentioned by a voice other than his own. Creole had, by this time, been a full two weeks cut off from the rest of the group with no news and no mention of them (at least not in a friendly way) in all of that time.

"Jaeger has been acting the true leader lately," Wysire began. "He holds us all together, as best he can. Jade helps, where he can, but mostly he's just an emotional support for Jaeger, I'd say. Leil is quiet as always. The circumstances aren't treating him well, but I do hope that he'll come through alright. There's really no way to know just now, especially considering that we don't know how or when this is all going to end. Eriane is . . . well, he was doing very well in the beginning. I . . . really can't go into all of the details just now (we haven't the time), but he has been forced to do some very painful things. He had the hardest time of it for the first week, I'd say. For myself, it's hard to not be able to talk to the others as I would on the ship. It's very painful to see them going through such hard times, and not to be able to do anything about it."

Wysire was silent for a moment in contemplation before continuing.

"Detrin is well. He's a bit more quiet and morose than is normal for him, but he doesn't seem to have it too terribly hard. Cycil and Sandy are much the same as ever. They spend each day together though, so I'm sure that that helps: they're not alone all day."

Creole waited for a moment after Wysire had finished, then said, "You don't mention Djaisiuk."

Though Creole could not see Wysire, he could feel the slight tensing of the muscles in Wysire's shoulder (which Creole still held) at this comment.

"We don't see him now," said Wysire evasively. "We've really only seen him once since we arrived. He seemed well enough then, but . . . it's hard to tell with him."

Creole waited for Wysire to continue, then, when he didn't, Creole frowned. "You're not telling me everything," he said. "I know that you're holding back information, and you think that it's for the best, but please don't spare me; I want to know everything, good or bad."

"Creole, I'm sure that you'd want to know, but I'd rather wait to tell you," said Wysire. "Or better yet, I'd rather let Djaisiuk tell you, if he wishes. It's really none of my business."

"You mean then that it's none of my business," replied Creole, smiling now. "Very well then, you certainly needn't tell me for I've no wish to meddle, but Wysire, you're the ship's counselor: everything that concerns the mind is your business."

"We're not on the ship."

"Tell me this at least, if you can: is he serving them willingly?"

Wysire thought for a moment before answering. "I don't know," he said, "but that is not the concern, if that's what you're thinking."

"Good, although I still can't understand why he would work for them at all, willing or unwilling; he knows better than that! I know that it can't be motivated by fear, not in his case." Creole sighed. "I wish I understood."

Kiacyl cleared his throat, thinking that they had stayed here long enough. When Wysire turned to him, he said, "We really should be going if we want to see the third yet tonight and still make it back in time to join the others."

"Who is that?" Creole asked Wysire, referring to the new voice.

"I would have told you," said Kiacyl haughtily, "if you'd ever asked. You didn't seem to want to talk to me."

"And I still don't," said Creole. "I'm talking to my friend. You may have noticed that I said, 'Who is that?' rather than 'Who are you?'"

Wysire laughed a little, sensing the half-humor in Creole's voice. "This is Kiacyl," he said before Kiacyl could answer Creole's statement. "He's about the closest thing that we have to a friend in the Vukasovian ranks. He's been spending a lot of time with all of us, and he really is a nice boy for a Vukasovian. He works with Djaisiuk daily, so he's our main source of information as far as Djaisiuk goes. You ought to be nice to him, really; he's the one who made it possible for me to come and see you."

Creole frowned, but turned his face towards the direction of Kiacyl's voice.

"I suppose that I owe you my thanks," he said, "but I won't know for certain until I know your true motives. What's your opinion of Djaisiuk?"

Kiacyl looked at him, unsure of how to reply. What a strange question, he thought. What has that to do with anything?

"He's not very talkative," Kiacyl answered aloud.

Creole laughed briefly, and then continued. "Does he work willingly?"

Kiacyl considered for a moment before replying.

"I would say no," he said at last. "Or at least he doesn't seem to enjoy any of what he does, except for playing his piano. He does--"

"His piano?!" Creole and Wysire broke in together.

"You never mentioned his piano before," said Wysire.

Kiacyl considered for a moment. "You never asked," he said. "And I didn't think of it before now."

"Why would they have given him his piano?" Wysire wondered aloud. "For that matter, how would they even have known that it was his?"

"How would they have found it?" asked Creole. "It isn't as though they could have accessed his room without his help." Turning to Kiacyl again, he asked, "Did Djaisiuk request it?"

"Yes," Kiacyl answered, thinking back. "He did ask for it. He just stopped working one day and said that he had to have his piano or he wouldn't work anymore."

"And they just gave it to him?" asked Creole.

"Well, not right away, no, but he kept his word," said Kiacyl. "He wouldn't work until they brought it to him."
"At least we know that he hasn't changed in some respects," said Wysire. "I'm glad to know that he has it; it makes me feel better about him."

"Well, it worries me," said Creole. "Why would he have shown them his workroom? If they had found it accidentally, the piano would have been destroyed before they could get into the room. Why would Djaisiuk have asked for his piano at all? It sounds as though he's settling himself in for a long stay."

"Creole, none of us knows how long we'll be here," said Wysire. "And it has been a rather long stay already, I'd say."

"I wonder how long Djaisiuk expects us to be here," mused Creole. "And how long does he intend to work for them? Indeed why is he working for them in the first place?"

There was silence for a moment again, then Kiacyl looked at Wysire with a questioning expression, reminding him that they ought to be going.

"I'm afraid that we really must go now, Creole" said Wysire. "I wish that we could stay longer, but I would still like to see Christopher if possible before we have to leave. We were able to see Faquire, and now you, so I'd hate to have to leave without being able to see him too."

"Yes, yes," said Creole. "Don't let me keep you, if that is your aim. Do give my love to him and tell him to stay strong. I wish that I could see him myself. And give my greetings to all of the boys. But quickly, if you have time, how is Faquire? Is he well?"

"No, I'm afraid that he isn't," Wysire replied. "He is in very bad shape emotionally, it would seem, though it may be entirely a physical problem. I really haven't time to describe it in detail. He needs help, but I don't know that I can give it to him here. The one thing that he needs right now is prayer. God is the only one who can help him right now."

"Yes, that seems to be true of all of us," said Creole. "But thank you; I will pray for him. Now go, and come back again soon, if you can."

"I'll try," Wysire assured him.

They embraced again. Finally, Wysire pulled himself away and followed Kiacyl out of the room.

In the third room, they found Christopher sitting on his cot with his legs stretched out straight in front of him in much the same position as Creole had been, except that his arms were crossed over his chest and his head was lowered. His back was to the wall, and he sat staring at the floor with a look of dejection. His expression gave Wysire some worry at first, because it looked very similar to Faquire's. When they entered, however, Christopher looked up at them and almost immediately gave a cry of joy.

"Wysire!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He cringed and his face twisted with pain as he put weight on his right leg, but he quickly recovered himself and balanced on his left. Without moving forward any more, he held out a hand to Wysire and pulled him forward when Wysire stepped towards him. Christopher then embraced him tightly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, as he finally released him. "You're not a prisoner too now, are you? No, I can see by your uniform that you're not."

"No, I'm not," Wysire admitted. "At least not in the same sense as you, Creole, and Faquire."

"Oh, how are they?! Have you seen them? Or have you heard any news of them? They won't tell me anything here." Christopher carefully sat down on his cot as he spoke, apparently wanting to take the weight off of his right leg (which he carefully kept straightened), but he continued to look up at Wysire with interest.

"And how are the others? Are they all well?"

"The others are all well," replied Wysire. "And yes, I have seen Faquire and Creole." He then hesitated, and this did not escape Christopher's notice. His expression changed quickly to worry.

"Oh, please tell me that they are also well! They are, at least, alive, aren't they?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes, they are both alive," Wysire quickly assured him. "It's just that . . . they are both in very different states of . . . life."

Christopher still looked worried. "Please don't keep me in suspense. Tell me straight how they are."

"It's hard to explain," answered Wysire, "without giving the wrong impression. Faquire seems to be well physically, and Creole is certainly well mentally, though each lacks some well-being in the area that the other does not."

Kiacyl, listening, had to think hard for a moment to sort out this last statement. Christopher, on the other hand, did not need time.

"What have they done to them? How bad is the damage done to either? How are they?"

"Please calm down, and I'll try to explain," said Wysire softly, sitting down beside him. "I don't know how bad they are. I can only tell you my observations. Faquire is certainly not well; he wouldn't speak to me or even look at me, although he didn't look as though he was suffering physically. I honestly do not know what is wrong with him. As for Creole, he is his normal self mentally, though he looks a little worse for wear physically. It seems that they've been running tests on him of different kinds. Today, he said, they'd been doing something with his eyes, such that for the next twenty-four hours, he'll be unable to see."

Christopher uttered a cry of indignation at this. "They're animals!" he cried. "Beasts!"

"No, they are human," Wysire corrected him.

"Fallen and depraved humans!" insisted Christopher. "They've come so far in their own eyes as to be almost completely stupid. I have no pity for this race!"

"Christopher!" admonished Wysire. "Are you any better than them? I don't mean in actions, but in worth; are you worth more than a single one of them?"

Christopher still looked upset for moment, but he lowered his eyes and remained quiet until he could regain his self-control. Kiacyl was too shocked by the words of both to say anything, but simply stared at the two of them silently. He didn't know whether he was more surprised with what Christopher had said or with what Wysire had replied.

"It is difficult, Wysire," said Christopher at last, "seeing what they do, to feel anything but contempt for them as a race."

Wysire nodded silently. "I know," he said. "But that doesn't mean that we can damn them as people, though we may condemn their actions."

Christopher nodded reluctantly and gave a soft sigh. "You said that Creole was well mentally?" he asked, looking up again and changing the subject. "Then the atrocities being committed are not damaging his spirit?"

Wysire laughed. "No, by all means, no!" he said. "You ought to have heard him raving about his captors. He had no qualms about telling them what he thought."

"You laugh about him," smiled Christopher, teasingly, "and yet you rebuke me for what I said. Explain that."

"The difference is that he does pity them," replied Wysire, serious now. "He does not consider himself better than them. I know that you do not either, but your emotions may lead you astray, if you're not careful."

"He pities us?!" exclaimed Kiacyl, forgetting that he was not a part of their conversation. "You'd certainly never know it to hear him talk. I thought that he hated us."

Christopher looked at Kiacyl as if seeing him for the first time. He turned back to Wysire questioningly, waiting for an introduction or explanation. Wysire indicated that he would explain in a moment. He turned first to Kiacyl.

"Creole does pity your race," he said. "I know that his pity is not obvious, but he really does not hate you. It is possible -- rather I ought to say that it is probable -- that he holds in contempt the Vukasovian race as a whole, but he doesn't hate them."

Without waiting for Kiacyl to reply, Wysire turned back to Christopher and said, "This is Kiacyl. He works with Djaisiuk and has spent a lot of time with the rest of us. He is the one who enabled me to visit you three."

"In that case, I owe you my thanks," said Christopher to Kiacyl, standing up carefully and extending a hand to him. "And I do hope that I haven't offended you in what I may have said just now about your kinsmen."

Kiacyl hesitated a moment before taking the proffered hand. He had never shaken hands with a prisoner before, and, other than Wysire's touch a few days earlier, he had never touched a Komislavian. It felt quite strange and uncomfortable, to say the least. It was, perhaps, fortunate that Christopher did not know the reason for the hesitation; for himself, he attributed it to possible offence that Kiacyl may have taken from his words. Kiacyl did take Christopher's hand, but his grasp was weak and almost unwilling. Christopher made no comment on this, but only reseated himself and turned back to Wysire.

"You said that he spends time with all of you; then do you all see each other often?" he asked. "How are the others?"

"Everyone is well," replied Wysire. "Jaeger tries to make sure that we all stay well, and Jade does his best to help. Leil and Detrin are a bit quieter than normal, but I think that they are well enough on the whole. Sandy is quite himself, actually. Eriane is having the most difficult time of it all."

"Really?" Christopher raised his eyebrows. "I would have thought that Leil or Sandy would have it hardest."

"It is hard on them," nodded Wysire, "as it is on all of us, but not so hard as on Eriane. Sandy and Cycil are apparently always together, so that makes it easier for them, and Leil silences all of his own questions with the knowledge that Djaisiuk is serving them. If it weren't for Djaisiuk, I don't know what he would do."

Christopher nodded sadly. "I still don't understand why Djaisiuk would serve them. He knows better! Does he simply not care?'

Wysire shook his head. "I don't know. I would give much to know what he is thinking; to know why he serves them."

"Have you ever asked him?" asked Kiacyl.

"You don't question Djaisiuk," Christopher told him. "No one does."

"We did ask him once if he would please tell us his reasons," said Wysire to Kiacyl. "We asked if he would help us to make our decision, that day that we first arrived, but he wouldn't."

"That's right," Christopher recalled. "Leil said that he would follow Djaisiuk, but Djaisiuk said not to do so; he said that we should not turn to him for the answer."

"He never talks to me, except to tell me what to do," said Kiacyl.

"That's more than he ever speaks to us," smiled Wysire.

Kiacyl and Wysire stayed and spoke with Christopher for a few minutes longer before Kiacyl said that they ought to be going. Wysire looked as though he would have liked to stay longer, but he reluctantly agreed. They bade Christopher goodbye and left.

Walking back to the main levels, Wysire was quiet, as if in thought.

"Why did you tell the third one that he shouldn't hate us?" Kiacyl asked him suddenly.

Wysire looked at him, surprised at the question. "Because he hated you for the wrong reasons," he answered.

Kiacyl's eyebrows rose. "Why didn't you just give him the right reasons then?" he asked, half sarcastically. "I suppose that you hate us for the 'right' reasons?"

Wysire sighed. "Kiacyl, we had this discussion before, you may remember, with the other boys. No, I don't hate you or your kinsmen. None of us do. Yes, there are reasons where hate is right, but I do not know what they would be in this case, nor would I ever encourage someone to hate another person for any reason. And, with Christopher, I know that his reasons were wrong."

"Why was he so cringing with me and yet so angry with the rest of my race?"

"Christopher has a kind and gentle spirit, really. He may get very angry with the people who have hurt him or Creole or any of the rest of us, but when face to face with someone who has not directly harmed him or his friends, regardless of their association with others who have, he will behave much more gently."

Kiacyl considered for a moment. "Don't you think that the second one has the right to hate us?" he asked. "Or the first one? My people have done some rather strong things to both of them by Komislavian standards, it would seem."

"I think," began Wysire, choosing his words carefully, "that while they may both have a right to be angry with your people for what they have done, hate is too strong an emotion to be so easily bestowed. The Bible says that we are to love our enemies and to do good to those who spitefully use us. That does not mean that we approve their actions, nor does it mean that we do not try to defend ourselves. As I said, there are cases where hate is permissible, so I will not say that Creole and Faquire haven't the 'right' to hate those who have wronged them so in this case. I wasn't trained for counseling in situations like this, so I honestly don't know what the right choice would be. Even so, I would strongly advise them against it if I thought that they did hate your people."

"But why?" asked Kiacyl. "What's wrong with hating those whom you don't like?"

"Hate is a very dangerous emotion," replied Wysire. "It more often destroys the one who feels it than it does its object. It eats away at a person from the inside. In Creole, Christopher, or Faquire's case, their hate would accomplish nothing good; it would only make them bitter, which would be very dangerous for them. It would only cause them further unhappiness, and they don't need that now."

"Are you saying that they're happy now?"

"No! By no means. Not in their situations, anyway. But they are all alive and happy to be so. Except for Faquire." Wysire paused and shook his head. "I wish that I knew what they had done to him to make him like that. Something is very definitely wrong there."

Wysire fell silent again, thinking. Kiacyl said nothing more but also remained quiet until they reached the main floors again. They then went together to the main eating room where they knew that they would find the other boys.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 22 - Discussions

2010-07-20T21:14:00.000-04:00

Kiacyl entered the eating room that night at a far later time than was normal for him. All of the boys were there already, and most looked up and smiled as he approached.

"Hello," said Eriane, as Kiacyl came to the table. "You're late tonight."

"Yes," Kiacyl answered, seating himself between Wysire and Cycil as usual. "I went to see the other three of your group."

Dead silence fell over the whole table as they all turned to look at him. Kiacyl had wondered what their reaction would be to this announcement, but he had certainly not expected what he now saw. As he looked around at their faces, he saw that for the first time since he had met them, he was not able to read any of the emotions there. They all stared at him blankly and yet with an intensity that he couldn't quite understand. He wondered now whether he should have phrased it differently, or whether perhaps he oughtn't to have said anything at all. There was a long moment of silence where Kiacyl felt exceedingly uncomfortable, then finally

he started to stand, thinking to leave.

"Excuse me," he said. "Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything."

Immediately the spell was broken and all of the boys began speaking at once.

"No!' exclaimed Wysire, putting a hand on Kiacyl's arm. "Don't leave!"

"No, stay! Tell us about them."

"How are they? Are they well?"

"Did you talk to them? What did they say?"

"Did you see all three of them? Are they all together?"

Jaeger raised his voice over them all. "Hush, hush!" he said. "Let Kiacyl speak." Then to Kiacyl he said, "Please don't leave. We would very much appreciate it if you would sit back down and tell us all that you can about them. You see, we've been without any news of them since we arrived here, though we have tried to find out about them. Your people won't tell us anything. If you can give us any news at all, we'd be exceedingly grateful."

Kiacyl had started back when Wysire touched him, but he then paused, feeling rather overwhelmed by the response of all of the boys. Their faces certainly expressed a lot of emotion now! Slowly he sat down in his usual chair.

"Well," he began uncertainly, "which question should I answer first?"

Several of the boys started to speak again, but again Jaeger interrupted them.

"I think that it would be best if you just start from the beginning and tell us everything, if you don't mind. That way most of the questions will be answered."

The other boys nodded in agreement, and all eyes were again fixed on Kiacyl.

Kiacyl cleared his throat a little nervously and began. "Well, I went to the holding cells tonight shortly after leaving my workplace. I did see all three of them, but I saw each separately; they're not all together. I suppose that I've been with them for nearly half an hour. The first one that I met was very unresponsive. He was lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling, the entire time. He wouldn't look at me or talk to me. He reminded me a lot of Djaisiuk. It wasn't like I was bothering him by talking to him; it was more like he either didn't want to talk to me or like there was something wrong. He didn't move at all while I was there."

"Creole is most like Djaisiuk," said Sandy.

"Yes, and he'd be the one most likely to ignore you too, I'd say," agreed Jade. "Was he a strong chap with blond hair? About seventeen years old?"

"No, his hair was red, and he looked to be about my age," Kiacyl answered, and would have continued but was again interrupted by exclamations.

"Faquire?!"

"No! He's not like that!"

"Faquire's not quiet or withdrawn!"

"What else have they done to him?!"

This last exclamation was from Eriane who looked very distraught, but Jaeger once more called for silence and asked Kiacyl to please continue.

"I tried to talk to him," Kiacyl continued, "but, as I said, he wouldn't even look at me. I finally left and went to the next room."

"Poor Faquire," murmured Sandy. "I wish we could go to him."

"Well, the next was not at all like the first," Kiacyl quickly assured him. "He was up and active. I found him pacing the room. But when I tried to speak with him, he was very aggressive; he really wouldn't tell me anything about how he was. I didn't stay with him very long."

"I wouldn't have described any of those three as aggressive," said Jade. "Though I could see how Faquire might be so; he gets very emotional at times. I suppose Creole could be too, if he wanted to be, only not as much so. Did he have blond hair?"

"I don't remember what color his hair was," Kiacyl answered, "But he did look older than the first one, and he had dark blue eyes. He was a little taller than me and looked very strong."

"That describes both of them," said Eriane. "Creole and Christopher both have blue eyes, are strong, and they're both about the same age and height. But Creole has blond hair, and Christopher has black."

"Creole's skin is tan too," said Cycil, "but Christopher's is pale. That's another way that you can tell them apart."

Kiacyl put in quickly. "I do remember that. And his skin was very pale too, even more so than a Vukasovian's skin. I thought that he was sick or that it was the result of some treatment done to him."

"That's Christopher," said Jaeger, nodding. "And no, that skin color is natural for him, strange as it must seem in a Komislavian. So then the second one must have been Creole. But please continue."

"As I said, he wasn't friendly," continued Kiacyl. "He was quite hostile really. To be honest, I found it rather amusing. I think that I upset him though, because he finally laid down on his cot and wouldn't say anything else. So then I went on to see the third. He was asleep at first, but he woke up just after I entered. I spoke with him for a short time but didn't learn much from him either. He was very strange."

"Strange how?" asked Eriane. "Did he seem like there was something wrong with him too?"

"Yes," Kiacyl stated decisively. "I would say that it definitely seemed like there was something wrong with his mental faculties, but I would have to admit that I don't know if his behavior was just what's normal for a Komislavian. He seemed very strange to me, but he might have been perfectly normal to you."

"What specifically struck you as strange?" asked Jaeger.

"Well, he said that he doesn't lie and seemed quite nonchalant about it," replied Kiacyl. "Then he seemed rather worried that he might have offended me when he suggested that I might have been lying. His whole manner seemed more fitting of a Londarian with how cringing it was at first, but his words and bearing did seem more like some of you. And he did straighten up and act a little more sure of himself by the end, although I can't guess what caused the change. At one point, I thought that he was trying to act defiant, but then I couldn't decide what to think. I would certainly have to label him an enigma."

"So was it his actions or his words that you thought strange?" asked Wysire.

"Both," answered Kiacyl. "His words didn't always make sense to me, but his whole manner too was contradictory. At first he looked upset because he thought that I was a medic there to do some tests, but then when I explained that I wasn't, he immediately became very suspicious of me. After I'd talked to him for a little bit and started to get frustrated, suddenly he relaxed and spoke almost casually, though not for long. After that, he became very quiet and really wouldn't say much at all."

"Did he look well?" asked Eriane. "Other than being very pale?"

"He looked at first as though he was in pain," Kiacyl admitted, "but once we started talking, he didn't show the pain anymore."

"What did he say?" asked Cycil. "Will you tell us everything?"

Kiacyl thought hard for a moment. "He really didn't say that much, now that I think about it. As I said earlier, he thought at first that I was a medic, and asked if we couldn't leave him alone for just a few hours. I told him that I wasn't a medic, and he then became very suspicious of me and just kept asking what I wanted. When I finally made it clear to him that I was there to learn about your race, he said that he wasn't the best one to talk to about that. He wouldn't recommend anyone in particular, but he suggested all of you in general. He said that he hoped that I was lying about all of you working for us willingly, but then immediately apologized for having suggested that I was lying. I said that he was as likely to lie to me as I was to him, and he said that he didn't tell lies. After that he would say only 'yes,' 'no,' and 'I don't want to talk about it,' in answer to my questions. So I left and came here."

The boys were silent for a moment, seeming to be trying to process all of this. Most looked unhappy; some very much so. Finally Detrin spoke again.

"You didn't say much about Creole," he said softly.

"Yes, that's right," said Eriane. "Except that you said that he was aggressive. Do you mean physically or verbally?"

"Oh, it was verbal, not physical," Kiacyl assured him with half a smile. "I tried to provoke him a to physical reaction, but he refused. He struck me as a little strange too."

"You tried to provoke Creole?" asked Jade incredulously. "He could have killed you, if he had wanted to do so, unless you're a great deal stronger than you look. He's as powerful as a bull and just as stubborn."

"I knew that he wouldn't hurt me," replied Kiacyl. "I'm a Vukasovian, and I'm sure that he would know better than to really try anything. And if he had, I could have just called for the guard."

"Then why did you try it?" asked Detrin.

Kiacyl drew himself up a little, feeling as though he ought to be offended by Detrin's tone of voice. "He provoked me," he replied. "He insulted me."

"How?" asked Jaeger.

"He treated me as though I was below him," said Kiacyl. "And I don't take that from anyone, least of all a Komislavian."

Kiacyl cut off rather abruptly and looked a little uncomfortable. He hadn't meant to insult them, but he wasn't about to withdraw his statement either. Most of the boys didn't look offended, but they looked as though they were trying to hide their real opinions of his statement. Sandy and Cycil looked uncomfortable too, more as if they were hurt by Kiacyl's statement than offended.

"What exactly did he say?" asked Wysire in his customarily soft voice.

"He said a lot of things," answered Kiacyl evasively. "It was more his attitude than his words, most of the time."

"Did he say how they'd been treating him?" asked Eriane.

"No," said Kiacyl.

"Can you tell us what he did say?" asked Cycil.

Kiacyl was quiet for a moment, considering. He didn't want to repeat all that Creole had said, but he did still wonder what the other boys would say on that subject. He might as well tell them, he thought. At least then he'd have an idea, judging from their reactions, as to whether or not they agreed with what Creole had said. He swallowed once and raised his chin.

"He said that all Vukasovians were self-centered, cowardly dogs who use their larger numbers to justify their thinking themselves great," he said all in one breath. "He said that Vukasovians want to rule the world and to make all of the other races their 'pets' to study at will. Then he said that he, for one, wasn't going to put up with it, and he ordered me out."

Kiacyl was very surprised when most of the boys suddenly burst into laughter. Jade actually clapped his hands.

"Bravo, Creole!" Jaeger exclaimed.

"Oh, he'll tell them what he thinks, indeed," laughed Jade, "and I hope that they hear it."

"Yes, that's definitely Creole," smiled Leil.

"Good for him!" said Sandy.

"He is obviously still well," said Eriane. "At least mentally well."

"I wish that I had that kind of courage," put in Cycil admiringly.

Now it was Kiacyl's turn to stare at them all in stunned silence. Did they all agree so strongly with what the boy had said? Was this how they felt as well? But they had all been so friendly, so unassuming. Never once had any of them insulted him intentionally or said anything so horrid about his race in general, but neither had they seemed deceitful, as if they were hiding their true opinion of him and his race. Had he indeed been playing the fool, deceived by their open expressions? Apparently there was still a lot more to this race than he had yet learned.

Jaeger was the first to notice Kiacyl's amazed look.

"Please don't take offense," said Jaeger quickly. "I'm afraid that we have become so accustomed to your being with us that we speak openly in front of you without thinking first. I can understand how you, as a Vukasovian, might be upset with . . . that kind of talk, but understand that we refer to your race in general and not you in particular."

"Oh, Kiacyl, you're not like that!" said Sandy. "At least . . . not most of the time. I mean . . . ." He trailed off, not knowing how to finish.

It was now the boys' turn to look uncomfortable. None were going to take back their agreement with what Creole had said, but none seemed to want to hurt Kiacyl either.

"I didn't know that you all felt like this," said Kiacyl at last. "You've certainly never given me any indication of it before now. Does your whole race hate Vukasovians then?"

"No, we don't hate them," Wysire quickly assured him. "Truth be told, most Komislavians pity your race."

"Pity us?!" exclaimed Kiacyl, in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because you don't know Christ," answered Detrin.

Kiacyl frowned at him. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Our race has been blessed," said Wysire. "We have dedicated ourselves to seeking after God and to raising up each generation after us in the same way. Our parents and grandparents were very firmly dedicated to this. And the Lord has blessed us for it."

"Vukasovians don't have the love of God in them," said Sandy. "Or at least none that I've ever met. Are there any Vukasovian Christians as far you know, Kiacyl?"

"If you mean followers of your religion," answered Kiacyl scornfully, "then no, I would say that there are certainly not. Vukasovians are not bound by any superstitions whatsoever."

"They are bound up by lies," said Jaeger.

"Our race is so much stronger and more powerful than yours," argued Kiacyl. "We ought to be the ones to pity you."

"You may seem stronger as a race, but you are not as individuals," answered Wysire. "Vukasovians suppress emotions. This does enable them to advance better at times in a military sense, but it destroys them in a personal sense. There is no longer a simple joy of life with them. The only pleasure that they seem to find is in conquest."

"You seem to forget again that I'm one of 'them'," said Kiacyl, "and from my own experience as well as what I know of my people, I would strongly disagree with you."

"Kiacyl," said Detrin quietly. "Are you happy in life?"

Kiacyl frowned at him, half-annoyed, half-confused. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "I'm not happy at the moment, no, because I'm trying to understand what you all are saying."

"Do you find joy in life itself?" asked Eriane.

Again, Kiacyl looked confused and upset. These were not questions that it was proper to ask on Vukosava. No Vukasovian would ask another something like this unless he wanted to be thought insane. Kiacyl shook his head in frustration.

"I don't know what you mean," he lied.

Wysire nodded. "That is precisely what we mean," he said. "You, as a Vukasovian, have been taught to ignore or to suppress all emotions but those that assist the goals of your race. Simple joy in life is one of those emotions that your race does not have."

"'Simple joy', as you put it, is a weakness," retorted Kiacyl. "It's the emotions of your race that make you all so easy to control."

Leil and Jade frowned darkly at this, but Wysire only smiled and Jaeger laughed.

"Say rather," said Jaeger, "that our emotions -- or rather still our faith in God -- keep us alive wherever we're put. We know how to be content in our circumstances without necessarily being content with our circumstances. Can you imagine a Vukasovian living in captivity?"

"No," Kiacyl replied without hesitation. "Why would he want to do so?"

"Because life is worth living," answered Wysire. "It is the Hope within us -- what you Vukasovians call the 'emotions' or the religion of our race -- that makes us strong. Here we are in an incredibly difficult situation, and yet we are able to continue. I agree with you in this: I don't believe that any normal Vukasovian would survive in like circumstances and yet maintain his sanity."

Kiacyl considered for a moment, trying hard to grasp what was being said, while at the same time still trying to swallow his annoyance at apparently being rebuked by a group of Komislavians.

"If what you say is true," he began slowly, "then how do you explain the one you call Faquire? He seemed to have no 'joy of life' in him, though he was certainly still alive."

The boys were silent for a moment and looked at one another, none seeming sure of how to answer.

"That is why we were so concerned," said Wysire at last. "Faquire ought not to be like that. It's not natural. Something, or some number of things must have happened or have been done in order to him to make him like that."

Here Eriane clenched his fist, and Jaeger and Jade looked thunderous.

"If I knew what they had done," said Jaeger, "and who was responsible . . ." He trailed off into silence.

"Then none of us would blame you for whatever action you chose to take," Jade finished.

"There is something else that I don't understand," said Kiacyl to Jaeger. "How can you jump from one emotion to another so quickly? A moment ago you were laughing. Now you're angry. Will you be laughing again in another moment?"

"Not if I keep thinking about Faquire," answered Jaeger. "How would you feel if your brother was being held prisoner and mistreated and there was nothing that you could do about it?"

"I don't have a brother, as far as I know," said Kiacyl.

"It's a hypothetical question," said Jaeger. "Imagine that you did have a brother, or imagine that it was a close friend."

"I haven't any 'friends' either."

"Do you have anyone for whom you care?" Jaeger asked with a hint of frustration in his voice.

Kiacyl look furtive for the briefest moment, then replied, "Caring for someone leaves one open to manipulation."

Jaeger sighed and shook his head. "Yes, I forgot. You're a Vukasovian. I should have known that you'd say something like that. Forget the analogy; I suppose that you can't understand our feelings if you've never experienced anything similar."

"I'd like to understand you," said Kiacyl. "I'm trying to understand you now, but to me your feelings do not make sense."

"That's because your race prefers to feel none at all," said Cycil quietly.

Kiacyl shrugged. "It's one of the things that makes us strong."

"No," said Eriane. "It makes your culture weak, because no one will stand up for anyone else. Everyone fights, but everyone fights alone."

Kiacyl looked appalled at this last statement. "That's not true!' he snapped. "All Vukasovians fight for the same things. We've always fought together."

"Kiacyl, would you ever give your own life for another Vukasovian?" asked Wysire.

"Do you mean die for him?" Kiacyl asked. "No, probably not. Why should I?"

"Yes, Wysire, why should he?" asked Jaeger, half sarcastically. "He said himself that he has no close friends and he doesn't have any brothers, as far as he knows. Who is there for whom he could give his life?"

Wysire frowned at Jaeger but did not answer.

"Are you mocking me?" Kiacyl asked Jaeger.

"No, not at all," Jaeger answered, speaking seriously now. "Actually, I'm very much hoping that you'll contradict me. I'd like nothing better right now than to hear you say that there exists anyone in this universe for whom you care at all."

"You want to think that I'm like a Komislavian," accused Kiacyl.

"I want to think that you're remotely human," retorted Jaeger.

"Jaeger!" Wysire exclaimed.

"I'm sorry!" Jaeger exclaimed in true repentance. "I didn't mean to say that." He sighed. "Look, I should probably just bow out of this conversation. I can't seem to add anything constructive to it. If you truly want to learn about our race, Wysire is the real expert."

"I do think that I'm learning something from you," said Kiacyl, looking at Jaeger strangely with the slightest hint of a sneer playing about the corners of his mouth. "It would seem that our races can be similar when tempers are aroused."

Jaeger returned the gaze silently for a moment. The other boys began to grow immediately uncomfortable at the obvious tension building in the air, but Kiacyl held Jaeger's gaze unflinchingly. His expression was now touched with both defiance and sarcasm.

"If you're trying to arouse mine now," said Jaeger at last, his voice quiet but firm, "then you're certainly going about it in the right way."

"Yes, actually I was," Kiacyl answered honestly. "I find it fascinating to think that you consider it a compliment to compare me to Komislavians, and yet you get offended if I compare you to the Vukasovians. With your looks, you could never pass for one, but I think that your temper and sarcasm, if properly used, could get you close to being accepted in Vukasovian culture, at least among the near-sighted."

Jaeger held Kiacyl's eye for a moment or two longer without speaking. He no longer looked angry, though it would be difficult to say what emotions he was feeling just then. After a brief moment, he turned away and quietly asked Jade an unrelated question. Jade answered, and the two became engaged in a quiet conversation of their own.

"May I ask you a question, trying to understand your race a bit?" Sandy asked, turning to Kiacyl.

"Yes, of course," Kiacyl answered. "I may not answer, but you may certainly ask."

"You say that you don't have any brothers 'as far as you know,'" said Sandy. "How is that possible? I mean, how is it possible that you don't know whether or not you have any?"

"I'm my father's first-born," answered Kiacyl, "but I don't know whether he might have any younger sons, because he has never told me. I really don't think that he does, but in order to be perfectly honest, I have to admit that he might. I suppose that your morals are rubbing off on me." He gave a sarcastic half-smile as he said the last statement.

Sandy looked very confused at Kiacyl's explanation. "Don't you live with your mother and father?" he asked.

"Of course not," answered Kiacyl, seeming offended at such a question. "I've never seen my mother, and my father has his work to do."

"Did your mother die?" asked Cycil quietly.

"I don't know," shrugged Kiacyl. "Probably not, considering the fact that I was, from birth, both strong and healthy. And I was natural, at that!"

Kiacyl smiled proudly at this, but the other boys only looked at him, thoroughly confused by this last statement. Jaeger and Jade seemed to have just finished their own short discussion and now sat quietly listening to the ongoing conversation.

"I wasn't enhanced," said Kiacyl, seeing their confusion and trying to explain himself. "I was natural, but I was still strong."

Most of the boys still looked confused, and Kiacyl started to look frustrated at not being able to make himself understood. Then an idea seemed suddenly to strike Eriane.

"You mean that you weren't genetically engineered at conception, don't you?" he said.

"Yes!" Kiacyl exclaimed, glad that at least one of them understood. "It's very rare now to find any who have been born naturally, and those that are so are almost never as intelligent as I am. Generally they're good for nothing but physical labor. That makes me all the more valuable, of course." Again he looked very proud of himself.

Sandy and Cycil shuddered visibly, and several of the others looked disgusted though they tried to hide it.

"You'll have to excuse our slowness in understanding you," said Eriane. "None of our race is genetically enhanced before birth unless there is seen to be a defect in the unborn baby. Even then, genetic manipulation is purely optional and generally not desired."

Sandy shook his head. "I can't imagine what it would be like to be 'programmed' like a computer."

"That must be why the members of your IC School are considered so valuable," said Kiacyl. "To be that intelligent without enhancement is very rare and valuable indeed."

Wysire laughed a little. "It is rare, I admit, but we're not considered any more valuable than any other member of our race," he said. "At least not on our own planet. We just have different functions than most of the other boys our age."

"Intelligence isn't valued among the Komislavians?" asked Kiacyl.

"Oh, it's certainly valued," said Eriane, "but not in the sense that it makes the person of any greater worth in a general sense than any other person. As Wysire said, it only makes us better able to perform the functions that the IC school requires of us."

"But what does that have to do with your siblings?" persisted Sandy, turning to Kiacyl again. "I don't know anyone who doesn't have brothers or sisters. I come from a very small family by Komislavian standards, because I have only one brother and one sister. I can't imagine not having any siblings."

"You do know someone with fewer," said Jade. "Jaeger was an only child."

"Was," said Jaeger. "I'm not anymore."

"But that doesn't really count," said Sandy. "In your case, Jaeger, it wasn't natural."

"How long were you an only child, Jaeger?" asked Cycil. "It was a long time, wasn't it?"

"I was twelve when my father remarried," said Jaeger, "so yes, I suppose that it was a rather long time." To Kiacyl he explained, "My mother died when I was young, so I was an only child for some time, but that is very unusual in our culture."

"But you say that you don't know if you have any brothers, Kiacyl?" asked Sandy. "Do you know if you have any sisters?"

"No, I know that I don't have any sisters," said Kiacyl, shaking his head in disgust. "None of us do. I might have a younger brother, I suppose, but I don't think that I do. I may have a very young brother whom I just haven't met yet, but he'd have to be less than three or four years of age. As I said, my father hasn't said that I do, so I really don't know. I think that he'd tell me if I did."

"But," Sandy began, confused again, "how could you not know whether or not you have siblings?"

"My father hasn't told me," Kiacyl repeated, again getting frustrated at not being able to make himself understood. "I suppose that I could ask if I do, or someone else might tell me if they knew, but really my father will tell me, if he wants me to know. What difference does it make to me anyway?"

Sandy and Cycil looked at each other, both confused.

"But why would he have to tell you?" asked Cycil. "Wouldn't you know if you had any younger siblings?"

"How would I know if he didn't tell me?!" Kiacyl demanded, throwing up his hands in obvious frustration. "And how is it that you are all called geniuses and yet can't understand something so simple?"

"May I try to clarify things?" interrupted Wysire. "In the Komislavian culture, the children live with their parents until they marry, generally between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. The students of the IC School are exceptions to this, of course, but we're a very small percentage of our people, and we still each visit our homes as often as we can. In the ordinary family, if there are younger siblings born, the older ones know as soon as and really before the younger ones are born, because they see their mother pregnant. After the child's birth, the older ones often help in raising their younger brother or sister. You can see how it is, therefore, not really possible for a Komislavian boy or girl to have siblings, unless they are very much older or younger, whom they have never met. And even if they had never met them, they'd hear about them from their other siblings or family."

Kiacyl nodded in partial understanding, though his expression showed plainly that he thought this a very strange way of life. "I see," he said. "So the father or mother lives with all of the children together while the children are young."

"The father and mother," Sandy corrected. "They both live together once they get married."

"How is that possible?" asked Kiacyl. "Doesn't the father have to work?"

"Yes, but he works on his farm," said Detrin. "Komislavians are, for the most part, an agricultural society, you know. The whole family works the farm together: father, mother, and children. When the sons marry, they often stay on their parents' farm and continue to work there, though they'll build their own house. It's not uncommon to have up to three or four generations working on one farm. My brothers work with my father on my great-grandfather's farm."

"That's very strange," said Kiacyl.

"Don't you live with your father?" asked Sandy.

Kiacyl shook his head. "No, I don't," he said. "I see him occasionally, but I live with other boys of the facility."

"Might any of them be your brothers?" asked Sandy.

"No, no, definitely not," Kiacyl assured him. "As I said, I'm my father's first, and I know that he doesn't have any more near my age. If he does have another son, then he's still very young. I doubt that I have any brothers, but there's really no way to be sure unless I ask him."

"Why don't you ask him?" asked Cycil.

Kiacyl shrugged. "I suppose that I could, although I don't see that it would matter. What difference would it make, after all, if I had any brothers?"

"I'd want to know, if it were me," said Leil quietly.

"I can't imagine not having any brothers," said Detrin.

"I can't imagine not having any sisters," laughed Jade. "I haven't any brothers, so I know what that's like, but no sisters? I really can't imagine."

"Why would your father want daughters if he could have sons?" asked Kiacyl. "I should think that he'd want sons all the more if he works on a farm."

"Well, as Eriane said, we generally don't use pre-birth genetic manipulation," answered Jade, "so he really couldn't choose one over the other even if he wanted to do so. Besides, my father was more than happy to have daughters, and, having been spoiled all my life by four sisters, I can understand this." Jade smiled broadly.

Kiacyl looked disgusted at this, but he said nothing.

"If no one minds, I think that we may want to stop this conversation now before it gets any deeper," said Jaeger. "It's getting late, and we may want to have devotions now while we still may."

This suggestion was accepted all around, though Kiacyl did not express an opinion. He had, by this time, grown accustomed to their evening ritual of study and prayer, and he didn't mind staying and observing, although he never participated. Sandy handed his Bible to Detrin and then shared one with Cycil; Eriane shared his with Wysire, and Jade shared his with Jaeger. Kiacyl didn't care to have one, though he didn't mind listening to the boys' devotions, feeling that he was gaining more information on their race through their beliefs. Cycil had always offered to share his own Bible with Kiacyl, but Kiacyl had always declined.

That night, when at last the boys dispersed to seek their own chambers for the night, Wysire followed Kiacyl and caught up with him after they had left the eating room.

"Kiacyl," he called. "May I speak with you?"

Kiacyl stopped, surprised at being followed. "Wysire, you shouldn't be coming this way," he said. He glanced around the hall to make sure that no one was around. "It's nearly time to retire, and this area won't be safe for you."

"I just wanted to speak with you," said Wysire, looking surprised. "Is that not permitted?"

"It's permitted, but it isn't safe," answered Kiacyl. "At least not near the sleeping quarters at this time of the evening. Let's walk back this way."

Kiacyl led Wysire back toward the eating room. "What was it you wanted?" he asked.

"I just wanted to ask whether you are able to visit Creole, Christopher, and Faquire whenever you like," replied Wysire.

Kiacyl shrugged. "Yes, so long as I am not forbidden, and so long as it doesn't interfere with my work."

"Would it be possible for you to take me with you?"

Kiacyl stopped and frowned slightly. "I don't know. Have you ever asked for permission to go to them?"

"Yes, once," Wysire nodded. "I asked my supervisor about it some time ago, but he said that he didn't know where they were being held. I assume that you know where they are if you've been to see them. I thought that perhaps if I could accompany you, I might be allowed to see them too."

Kiacyl considered. Might there be some reason that Wysire's supervisor had not given him permission to see the boys? It would have been very simple for the supervisor to find the information, had he desired it. And, if there had been some reason for the denial, might Kiacyl then be in danger of disapproval if he were to take Wysire to see them?

It would likely be enlightening to see the boys in the company of Wysire, Kiacyl thought. Wysire was the one whom they called a "counselor." It would be interesting to hear what he might say to those three boys. Would he talk about the "simple joy of life" to those suffering confinement? Kiacyl liked the idea of going with him very much. Still, there was risk involved. He would have to give the matter thought.

"Perhaps," said Kiacyl noncommittally. "I'll have to think about it. Ask me again in a few nights."

Wysire looked disheartened, but nodded. "Alright," he said. "Thank you for agreeing to consider it. I'll remind you again later."

"Just don't come to the sleeping rooms of the workers to do so," smiled Kiacyl. "Don't forget your race. I'm sure you've noticed that I'm the only Vukasovian who'll speak with all of you outside of your work."

"Would it really be dangerous for me to simply walk down that hall?" asked Wysire, looking at him with more than a touch of incredulity.

"Yes," stated Kiacyl emphatically. "At this time of day, yes, it would. In the middle of the workday when everyone is working, or in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep, then no one would care, so long as you just walked through and didn't stop or go into any of the rooms. But right now, when all of the workers are there and awake, it wouldn't be safe. They might not kill you, seeing how valuable the authorities consider you, but you wouldn't want to take that chance. You certainly wouldn't get out uninjured."

"Not even if I was with you?"

Kiacyl gave a scornful chuckle. "I've already told you that I wouldn't risk my life for another Vukasovian," he scoffed. "What makes you think that I'd risk it for you?" He shook his head. "I wouldn't even try to defend you."

Wysire again looked at him in surprise, but he said nothing. Kiacyl simply shrugged and continued.

"Look, it's getting late, and I need to get to bed," he said. "I can explain it all to you sometime, if you like, but for now it would just be best for all of you to keep to your own sections and the public eating rooms. There's a reason that they've given all of you your own rooms; no Vukasovian of your age would have that."

Wysire nodded, obviously not understanding this but content to wait until what time as Kiacyl could or would explain further. He again thanked Kiacyl for his time and turned and left.