THE TWELVE -- Chapter 16 - Eriane

Eriane passed a fitful night.  He tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep, to escape from the torment of decisions and questions to which he had no answers.  But when he did eventually fall asleep, he was plagued by dark and evil dreams.  When morning finally came, he felt himself no nearer to a decision than he had been on the night previous.

Eriane felt sure that he must stop working for the Vukasovians.  True, they now had him researching a cure for a congenital disease, and this research could not be called evil.  But after having been tricked, as he felt certain that he had been in the matter of the torture device, he no longer trusted any work which they gave to him.  He would not continue to serve them!  They were evil!

And yet the thought of leaving the other boys was more than he could bear.  From what Faquire had said, Eriane guessed that those three did not see one another.  To be locked away, alone, never receiving word or news of the others, and to be forced to endure this not only day after day but week after week and possibly month after month was something that Eriane did not even want to imagine.  The thought of being locked away in a prison cell for the rest of his life with no hope of ever seeing his friends or family again was enough to drive him insane.  No, he couldn't go through with it!

But if he were to continue to obey them without question, then what would stop them from again giving him such an assignment as they had before?  And if they did, then what would be the difference between refusing them then and refusing them now?  Surely it would be better to stop now while it was still clear why he was doing it.  He must make a stand now and not waver from it.  He must show that he would not be used to further the ambitions of a sadistic, power-hungry race, no matter what the consequences.

The faces of the other eight who now served the Vukasovians came again to Eriane's mind.  Could he leave them?  Suppose something were to happen to one of them.  Suppose they were to need medical assistance.  If he were a prisoner, Eriane knew that he would probably not even be told about it, whereas if he were still working for the Vukasovians, he might even be allowed to treat them himself.  If he continued to work well and showed the Vukasovians that he could be trusted, mightn't it be possible that he would eventually be allowed to tend to the other three who were imprisoned?  No, Eriane told himself; that would never be possible.  No matter how well he played the part, they would never accept him to that degree; not unless he joined them so completely as to be no longer the same person that he now was.

It was this last thought that bothered Eriane most.  True, he was now working only to help and to heal, but how could he be certain that in doing so in this environment he could continue to keep himself pure from their evil influence?  Mightn't it be possible that continual exposure to them as fellow workers would begin to taint Eriane himself, even without his knowing it?  Yes; it was more than possible: it was likely.  Eriane knew in his heart what he must do.  But he was still afraid to do it.

It was with a great effort that Eriane at last arose from his bed.  He prayed fervently that the Lord would be with him and give him strength to do what he knew he must do.  As he prepared to leave his room, he considered that Drayl would by now be wondering where he was.  Thinking of Drayl made it easier for him to steel himself.  Holding his head high with confidence that he did not feel, Eriane left his sleeping room and walked resolutely towards Kandryl's quarters.

When he arrived, Eriane was told that Kandryl was not there; he was tending to some matter in the Wru section.  Eriane hesitated at first, unsure of how to proceed.  He had not expected this.  Should he wait for Kandryl to return, or should he seek him?  Deciding that nothing would be gained by delaying the inevitable, Eriane asked where exactly in the section Kandryl might be found.  He was given directions, and he left.

The distance was not far, but it was far enough to allow Eriane time to again steel himself in his resolve.  He had now made his decision, and he would stick to it, regardless of the consequences.

* * * * * * *

Kandryl was speaking with a lower officer when Eriane entered the room.  Looking up, Kandryl seemed mildly surprised to see him there.  He made no comment, however, but simply finished with the officer, dismissed him, and turned to Eriane.

“Well, doctor?” he asked.

Eriane swallowed.  “Sir,” he began, trying to keep his voice from sounding as nervous as he felt.  “I cannot serve you any longer.”

Kandryl’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he said nothing.

“I . . . I cannot in good conscience continue to work for you or your people,” Eriane continued.  “You may do what you like to me, but I will no longer serve you.”

Without a word, Kandryl turned away and walked to a terminal that sat against one of the walls.  Eriane could not see exactly what he was doing and could not, therefore, be sure of whether KandrylEriane quietly waited, slightly confused, for Kandryl to say something.  After a few moments, Kandryl finished what he was doing and turned back to Eriane.

“Come with me,” instructed Kandryl simply as he stepped towards the exit.

Eriane followed silently, still trying to hold himself steady.  He had not known exactly what to expect, and he still did not.  He had, at least, expected Kandryl to say something -- to attempt to make him continue working or to threaten him if he did not.  He had not expected silence.  And yet Kandryl said nothing as they walked through the halls.

Soon they entered the medical section, and Eriane began to grow a little more nervous, wondering whether they were going to simply return to the area in which he was accustomed to work, or, even worse, whether Kandryl would now seek Drayl to speak with Eriane.  To his mild relief but also confusion, they did neither.

Kandryl led Eriane into the medical treatment and research section and entered a large room where several doctors and medics were working.  One of the doctors approached them, and he and Kandryl exchanged a few quiet words.  The doctor then picked up a scanner and accompanied them as Kandryl led Eriane through the large room and into a smaller adjoining room.  Within this room, there were two small medical beds, only one of which was occupied.  In the bed lay a young Vukasovian.  He was either asleep or unconscious, but Eriane could not tell which.  Kandryl motioned to the doctor, and the latter extended the scanner to Eriane.

“Examine him,” Kandryl instructed Eriane, motioning to the young Vukasovian.

Eriane looked up at him in surprise.

“Why?” he asked.

“I will explain after you have examined him,” replied Kandryl.

Eriane hesitated at first, unsure of whether or not he ought to obey, but then took the scanner from the doctor, stepped forward, and began the scan.  What he found was, to him as a doctor, more than a little disturbing.  The boy was certainly young, as he looked, but his internal organs were completely ravaged by some strange disease with which Eriane was not familiar.  He was unconscious from a long-term anesthetic that was apparently being reapplied every day or so.  It seemed that other drugs were being given to him to assist in sustaining his life, but unless the disease itself was eradicated soon, the boy would not live much longer.  Even if it were, the damage done was incredible and would not easily be repaired.

Eriane finished the scan and turned to look at Kandryl, still a little confused.  Kandryl said nothing to him, but simply turned to the Vukasovian doctor.

“How long do you estimate that the boy has to live?” asked Kandryl.

“Two months is the current estimate,” replied the doctor.  “That would be the maximum time that we could keep him alive.”

“How old is he?”

“He had just turned twelve, sir.”

Kandryl nodded once and then turned back to Eriane.

“You had been assigned to assist with a group that is attempting to find a cure for a congenital disease that affects our people,” he said.  “Witness now the end result of that disease.”  He motioned again to the young boy.  “This boy will die.  There is nothing that can be done for him.  And unless a cure can be found, many others will also die.”

Eriane looked back at the boy.  He had expected Kandryl to try to make him continue to work, and he had mentally prepared himself to resist any argument that Kandryl might make, but he had not been prepared for something like this.  He was a doctor; everything within him rose up at the sight of this young boy, calling him to do everything in his power to save him.  Eriane lowered his eyes, struggling within himself again.

“What is the longest that anyone has lived who had this disease?” Kandryl asked, turning again to the Vukasovian doctor.

“Thus far, fifteen years,” answered the doctor.  “But there is one now who is fourteen years, and his condition is still dormant.  We do not know when the disease will begin to affect him.”

“Are there any with the disease who work in this facility?”

The doctor drew out his parchment and consulted a few records.  He then nodded.  “Yes, sir,” he said.  

“There are two workers and one laborer.”

“Summon the workers.”

“No,” said Eriane, looking up at Kandryl now.

Kandryl turned to Eriane again and looked at him expectantly.

“I know what you are trying to do,” Eriane continued slowly.  “But I know too that you have many capable doctors researching this disease.  I am not even Vukasovian; I am certainly not the best to be doing this.  You do not need me.”  He paused and swallowed again.  “I still stand by my decision.”

Kandryl looked at him for a long moment and then dismissed the doctor.  When the latter had left the room, Kandryl closed the door and turned again to Eriane.

“You are upset because of what has happened to your friends and because of the part that you played in it,” he said.  “But know this: that machine would have been created with or without your assistance.  You merely stood as the shield between your friends and permanent injury.  You have no experience in the infliction of pain, but you are proficient in both correcting and preventing damage; that was why you were used.  You have been used to harm no one.  Your assistance only helped to make the machine safe.  Think of what could have been had you not assisted: your friend Faquire may have been permanently injured.  You did not in any way add to his sufferings; rather you diminished them.”

"Had I not assisted, you might not have used it at all," returned Eriane.  "Drayl assured me that no permanent damage was to be done to either Faquire or Djaisiuk.  If he was unsure of whether it would do so, he might not have used it at all."

"There you are mistaken," said Kandryl.  "The device was created without you, and it would also have been used, whether or not you had helped to make it safe."

"So be it," said Eriane.  "Regardless, I will not serve you or your race any longer."

Kandryl emitted what might have been a very soft sigh.  "I understand your disdain for our . . . methods of persuasion," he said.  "I had not thought that you would mind being used to ensure the safety of such a device; obviously I was wrong.  If you so wish it, your assistance in that area will not be requested again.  I will instruct your supervisors that you are to work in the area of medicine only: specifically in the realm of researching cures for diseases.  You need not fear that you will ever again be party to something that might be considered detrimental to anyone's well-being."

Eriane shook his head.  "No," he said.  "As I said earlier, you have many capable doctors already.  You don't need me."

"You are a doctor," said Kandryl in a low voice.  "And yet you refuse to help others?"

This question (or accusation) struck Eriane sharply.  It was with difficulty that he maintained a firm expression and a steady voice to reply.

"I do," he said.  "In this situation, yes, I do.  There are others who can help those who need help.  I refuse."

Kandryl turned and walked slowly to the medical bed, looking down at the young Vukasovian lying there unconscious.

"'Others,' you say," repeated Kandryl, still speaking quietly.  "Yes, there are many others.  But have you any concept of the need?"  He paused and turned back to look at Eriane before continuing.  “You believe us to be cold-hearted and unfeeling,” he said, “and you are partially correct.  It is the impression which we like to give, and it is what we prefer others to believe.  You have been forced to watch your friends suffer pain, but we are forced to watch our children die, day after day.  Komislavians have few diseases, and those which they have seldom affect their children.  It is not so with Vukasovians; nearly three-fourths of our sons and daughters die before they reach adulthood.  There are more diseases that afflict our race than you can imagine.  You could never find the cures to all of them; indeed, it would take several lifetimes to find the cures to half of them, but we do what we can.  It is in this endeavor that I ask your assistance.  In this battle, we must make use of every asset available to us.”

Kandryl paused and continued to look at Eriane.  Eriane stared up at him.  He was shocked by this speech, and he didn’t know what to think.  His face must have displayed his inner struggles, for Kandryl softened his voice slightly and continued.

“You are still young,” he said.  “You have no children.  It is not so with many of the men of this facility.  Drayl is a father; the doctor who just left us is a father; most of the supervisors of your friends are fathers.  And many of these have already had to watch their sons die.  You, being Komislavian as well as being young, cannot know how it feels for a father to know that his son is going to die and that there is nothing that he can do to prevent it.”

Kandryl stopped again and turned away.  Eriane lowered his eyes, but did not speak.  This was one argument which he had not foreseen.  Could it be true?  He knew that there were many birth defects and genetic maladies common to Vukasovians -- mostly due to the genetic manipulation used on the pre-born babies -- but he had had no idea of the magnitude.  Three-fourths!  Could it be possible?  And these were only the ones who died as children.  How many more died as young adults?  Eriane had noticed that most of the members of the facility were young; indeed, excepting the guards, only the supervisors and a few of the doctors were grown men.  All of the orderlies were boys; all of the assistants were boys; even the medics were young men.  But Eriane had assumed that this was due to the facility's status as an "experimental facility."  Was all of Vukosava like this?

So many thoughts ran through Eriane's head, one after another.  How many Vukasovians watched their children die before them?  And how many of the young Vukasovians knew that they were going to die?  Could this be one of the reasons that they all seemed so hard and cruel?  Was it only a front to shield the pain and anguish that so many of them felt or had experienced?  Could it be that Drayl himself had had to see his own child die a possibly slow and painful death and that that was why he now seemed to find pleasure in inflicting pain on others?  Was it not possible that he was simply trying to alleviate the pain that he himself felt?  It certainly did not excuse his actions, but it made Eriane almost pity him, knowing that this could be the reason that he was the way that he was.

He had decided not to work for them anymore, Eriane reminded himself.  He could not continue to help this race to advance in any way; they were evil, all of them.  But now the voices of the children of Vukosava seemed to rise up and to call for his help.  So many lives were being lost every day, and Eriane might have the ability to save at least a few of them, if he chose.

But surely the Vukasovians had a sufficient number of others who could answer the call, Eriane argued to himself.  Surely they didn’t need him!  Eriane had determined to make a stand and not to waver from this resolution.  He had mentally prepared himself to resist all arguments that Kandryl might make, regardless of how logical they seemed.  He must not allow himself to be “used” again.  But if he were being used to help others, then did he truly have the right to refuse?

“I could threaten you, doctor,” said Kandryl in a low voice, interrupting Eriane’s thoughts.  “I could easily lock you in a cell and give you both of the two workers who now bear this disease as your constant companions.  I could even place this young boy with you and allow you to watch him die, slowly."

Eriane felt a cold chill run through him at this thought.  He shuddered and looked up at Kandryl again, trying to hide the horror that he felt.

"But I will not do so," Kandryl continued, turning now to look at Eriane again.  "I will not force you to work for us, but neither will I imprison you if you refuse.  You are a doctor; you are a genius; as such, you are invaluable to us for the lives that you can save, if you so choose.  I know that you are upset at the moment and that perhaps you cannot think beyond your own pain just now.  I understand this, and I will not attempt to force you to make a decision at this time.  Take the rest of the day to think.  You need not work today.  Go to your quarters, if you like.  When you have made your decision, you may come to me again, but you are free to take as much time as you require.”

Eriane looked hard at Kandryl.  He searched the other’s face, but Kandryl kept his emotions hidden well.  Could it all be true?  Might this be a lie?  Kandryl did not seem to look quite as hard and cold as he was wont to look, but neither was any sign of pity or compassion allowed to show either.  Eriane was sure that if this were simply a ruse meant to manipulate Eriane's emotions to make him continue working for them, then surely Kandryl would have feigned emotion of his own.  And yet he betrayed nothing of what he felt.

Kandryl returned Eriane’s gaze for a moment, then turned and silently opened the door.  He motioned him to precede him out of the room, and Eriane obeyed.  No words were exchanged as they walked out of the large medical room and down the halls to where their ways parted.  Eriane then turned and looked up at Kandryl.  He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.  Kandryl looked down at him silently for a moment, then spoke.

"If you decide that you will continue your work, then you need not come to me again, if you do not wish it," said Kandryl.  "You may simply return to your work area.  I will send word to them that you were elsewhere this morning by my orders.  You need explain your actions to no one."  Glancing back down the hall in the direction of the medical observation room which they had just left, he continued, "If you wish to see the young boy again whom we just left, you have my permission to do so.  No one will deny you access."

Eriane closed his mouth again.  He tried to hide the struggle that he again felt, but it was difficult.  He stood still for a very long moment, then finally turned without a word and continued down the hall towards his assigned work area.

* * * * * * *

Kandryl looked after Eriane until the latter was out of sight, then turned and walked again towards the general medical section.  As he went, he could not suppress a smile of triumph.  One needed only to know the weaknesses of another in order to fully control him, he considered.  These boys were Komislavian, and when their emotions could be properly manipulated (without them realizing what was being done), they were perfectly compliant.  Perhaps that was why Djaisiuk frustrated him so: it seemed that he had no emotions to manipulate.

Rather than returning immediately to his own quarters, Kandryl sought out Drayl in the medical section.  He indicated to the latter that he wished to speak with him alone.  Once they were away from the other medics and doctors, Kandryl turned to Drayl and spoke bluntly.

“How is your son, Drayl?” asked Kandryl.

Drayl frowned at him incredulously.  “What?” he asked.

“Your son,” repeated Kandryl.  “You have a son, haven’t you?”

“I have two.”

“Two!  That’s even better.  How are they?  Or rather, where are they?”

“One is working under Kr. Trinoi, and the other is still in training.”

“Have you seen either of them recently, say, within the last few months?”

“No.”

“Have you spoken with their supervisors recently?”

“No.”

“Drayl, they’re your sons,” said Kandryl in a sarcastic tone of voice.  “Don’t you care about them?”

Drayl crossed his arms over his chest.  “So long as they’re alive and continue well, no, I don’t,” he responded contemptuously.  “Would you expect it of me?”

“No, of course I wouldn’t,” said Kandryl with his characteristic half-smile, half-sneer.  “But don’t let the Komislavian doctor know that.”

Drayl frowned again.  “What?”

“I wanted to warn you that he may ask you about your sons,” continued Kandryl.  “I told him that you were a father.”

Drayl snorted in disgust and looked at Kandryl, obviously annoyed.  “I hope that you didn’t attribute to me any of the petty Komislavian weaknesses of character that they generally associate with the term ‘father.’”  Drayl practically spat the word as if it offended him.

“No, I didn’t,” Kandryl assured him, shaking his head.  “But neither did I deny that you felt them.  I left him to draw his own conclusions, and I would advise you to do likewise.  If he doesn’t question you, very good, but if he does question you, then it would be better if you didn’t malign your sons or your role as their father to him.  His Komislavian mind is not yet ready for that.  In time, perhaps, he may be able to accept our ways a little better, but for now, I want him to think that we are more like his race than we really are.”

Drayl turned up his lip in disgust and shook his head.  “I will not play such a part for anyone.  If he asks me, then I will tell him what I have told you.  My sons are such that I have reason to be proud of them; I would not malign them to anyone.  But as for what you call my 'role as their father,' don't think that I would ever claim any sort of emotional attachment to either of them, even if you commanded me to do so.  You may not mind feigning weakness in order to achieve your goals, but I will not!”

Kandryl frowned.  “Then tell him that your sons are dead,” he said firmly.  “Better that than to say that you don't care about them.  If he asks you, then I want you tell him that they have died.  Use any reason you like: they died in war, or by disease, or in an accident.  I don’t care.  You can say that you have no wish to discuss it; you can say whatever you like, but under no circumstances are you to imply to him that you care nothing for them.”

“I didn’t say that I care nothing for them,” said Drayl.  “It’s simply that I understand that they are very easily replaced.  I have never had difficulty in producing valuable offspring.”  He gave a slight sneer with this last statement.

Kandryl looked at him silently for a moment, suppressing a frown as he tried to keep his face impassive.

“If he does ask you,” said Kandryl at last, “then I’ll want you to report it to me.  I will want to know exactly what he asks and what you reply.  I’ll then also want to know his reaction to whatever you say.”

“As you wish,” said Drayl with a slight shrug.  “As you are fond of reminding me, you are the one in charge.”

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 15 - Counsel

All of the other boys were already sitting round their usual table when Eriane came into the eating room that night.  The conversation died as soon as they saw him.  Eriane did not look at any of them but silently came to the table and sat in his usual place between Wysire and Leil.  Wysire was the first to break the silence.

“Eriane, are you alright?” he asked softly.

Eriane shook his head.  “All I can say is that the sooner we are out of this place the better!  May God grant that it be soon.”

“Eriane,” began Jaeger, “about that . . . .”

“If I wasn’t fully with you before, Jaeger, I certainly am now,” Eriane continued.  “Anything that can be done to speed our escape, I will do!”

“Eriane!” interrupted Jaeger firmly.  “Please, listen to me.  You weren’t here last night, so you didn’t hear the latest . . . developments regarding our plans.”

Eriane was quiet then and looked at Jaeger expectantly.

“After our discussion on the night before last, Kandryl sent for me,” continued Jaeger.  “He told me that our plans were futile, that there is nowhere that we can go where our words would not be heard.  He said that although he would excuse us this time, any future plans would not go unpunished.  There is to be no more talk of escape.”

Eriane stared at him wordlessly and expressionlessly.

“Give me your conclusion,” he said at last.  “Slowly.”

Jaeger swallowed.  “We’re not leaving here,” he said slowly.

Eriane lowered his head into his hands, resting his elbows on the table, and seemed to be trying very hard to control his emotions.  Wysire reached out and placed a hand gently on Eriane’s shoulder.

“Eriane?” he asked softly.  “Do you need to talk?”

Taking a deep breath, Eriane lowered his hands and looked up.  The others were all watching him with concern, but he didn’t meet their eyes.

“Yes,” he said.  “But I need to talk to all of you.  If we’re not leaving here, then I don’t see how I can serve them any longer.  I’m already living a lie as things stand.  I convinced myself this afternoon that I could endure it for just a little longer, if necessary, until we could leave this place, but if we’re going to be here indefinitely . . . .”  He shook his head.  “I can’t do this.”

“Eriane, what’s wrong?” Jade began to ask, but Wysire motioned him to wait and to let Eriane speak as he wished.

“Faquire was right,” Eriane began, trying hard to keep his voice steady.  “When we first came here, when we all first started to work for them, I was given research to do that dealt with the Vukasovians.  I did it without question, and I still doubt that that research will be used for anything bad.  But after that I was given a project to review that involved the Komislavian physique.  The research had already been done; I was only supposed to verify it.  I should have known then!”  He stopped for moment before continuing.  “The research was very well done,” he continued softly, “and I had very few corrections to make.  I wish now that I had not even made those!  At least then I would have had no part in it.”  Eriane paused again, then swallowed.  He still did not meet any of the eyes watching him.  He continued slowly in a low voice, “Yesterday, I was shown the result of my work.  They had used it to create a machine of torture, designed specifically and wholly for use on Komislavians.”

The other boys stared at him in horror.  Eriane still did not look at them.  Still speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully for the sake of the youngest two, Eriane went on to describe the small machine that he had helped to design.  He then smiled bitterly.

“Faquire, who predicted that this would happen, was granted the dubious honor of being the first to try it—”

Eriane’s voice broke and he again buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking now with suppressed sobs.

Wysire put his arm around Eriane, and the others looked on in horror and pity.  They glanced at one another silently, none knowing what to say.

“Drayl said that it was no more than a toy,” Eriane continued quietly once he could speak again.  “And really I’m sure that compared to what he is used to using, it wasn’t that bad.  But that doesn’t change what it is!”

Eriane took another deep breath and raised his head again, keeping his eyes closed this time.  After a moment, he opened them and turned to look at Wysire.

“Faquire was right,” he said.  “He warned us that if it was possible to misuse even our talents, the Vukasovians would find a way.  I believe him now.  I don’t see how it can be safe for either of us to continue to work for them.  I certainly don’t see how I can continue.  I thought that perhaps I could if escape was not too far away, but if that is no longer even a hope, then I don’t see how I can continue at all.”

“Faquire will forgive you,” said Wysire softly.

Eriane looked at him silently for a moment.  “Maybe he will,” he said.  “But I haven’t yet told you all that happened.  Faquire was yesterday, and that was why I didn’t come last night; I had to be alone.  But Faquire was only the test.  Drayl said that the machine was meant for someone of great value, and today I found out exactly who he meant.  They used it again on Djaisiuk.”

Leil gave a short exclamation of shock.  The others all stared at Eriane in disbelief.  None of them seemed willing to accept this last statement.

"Are you sure?" asked Jaeger at last.

"Why would they do something like that to Djaisiuk?" asked Jade.  "He was working for them.  It doesn't make any sense."

"Djaisiuk wouldn't let them," said Sandy.  "They couldn't."

Eriane looked around at each of them.

"You don't believe me," he said.

Wysire spoke first.  "Eriane," he said, "you're not well.  You are obviously under an extreme amount of stress."

"It was Djaisiuk!" Eriane insisted.  "It was terrible to see, and I know that it has affected my emotional stability, but it was him!"

"Faquire, I could understand," said Jaeger.  "He refuses to help them.  But not Djaisiuk.  He's too valuable."

"Why do you suppose that they wanted to test it first?" demanded Eriane.  "Drayl told me that it was someone of great import whom they wished to subject to that . . . device of horror.  He said that nothing must go wrong; he must not suffer any long-term damage, only extreme, albeit temporary, pain.  It was Djaisiuk."

“Perhaps he isn’t working for them now,” suggested Cycil.  “Maybe he decided to stop, and they want him to continue.  That would make sense.”

“If he isn’t working for them now, then I won’t either,” said Leil.  “Even if he won’t give us his reasons and doesn’t want us to follow him, I’ll still do as he does.”

“But why would he have changed now?” asked Detrin, frowning.  “He did seem to agree to work for them at first; why the sudden change?”

“It may not have been sudden,” suggested Wysire.  “Remember that it has been several days since we last saw him.”

“If he has changed his mind, then I want to know why,” said Jaeger slowly.

“We’d all like to know that, I’m sure,” said Jade.  “But nobody ever really knows why he does anything.”

“No, I mean it this time,” replied Jaeger firmly.  “If he is no longer serving the Vukasovians, then I intend to find out why.”

The other boys looked at Jaeger in surprise.  Even Eriane raised his eyes.

“I mean to ask him,” Jaeger continued.  “Tonight.”

“You can’t,” said Jade, shaking his head.  “Ignoring the fact that we’re not supposed to question him, you don’t even know where he is.  Remember that we tried to find him once, or at least I did.  They won’t tell us where he is.”

“Kandryl will,” replied Jaeger.  “I’ll tell him that I must and will see Djaisiuk, and anyone who wishes is welcome to come along with me.  He will let us see him, or I, for one, will go along with Leil in this: I will not work any more for them until I’ve seen and spoken with Djaisiuk.”

Jaeger looked around at all of them, and then stood up from the table.  Leil immediately stood too, and Jade and Detrin followed suit.  One by one, the remaining boys slowly rose to their feet as well, though most still looked a bit uncertain.

“Do you really think that it’s possible that they’ll let us see him?” asked Eriane.

“We can certainly try,” said Wysire.  “And I think it worth the attempt.”

"But what would I say to him?  I couldn't face him!  Not after what I helped to do to him."

"You can, Eriane," said Wysire, taking Eriane by the arm.  "You can, and you will."

“Alright then,” said Jade, turning to Jaeger.  “Lead on.”

* * * * * *  *

It was doubtless a strange sight: eight Komislavian boys walking in a group down the halls after working hours.  Jaeger had little doubt that word would be sent on to Kandryl before they arrived, but he didn’t care.  Walking silently and determinedly, he led the group to Kandryl’s quarters.

Kandryl had told the boys before that he was always available to them.  They were free to come to him whenever they chose.  He wanted to always know what was happening with each of the boys.  He had to be prepared for whatever might happen with any of them in the future, though he did not share this fact with them.  And, though he certainly cared nothing for them as anything more than workers and test subjects, he wanted each of them to think that he truly cared what they felt.

The boys rarely spoke to Kandryl unless addressed by him, and none of them had ever before sought his presence unasked.  Eight of them at once entering the large room in which he was working was a strange, new sight.  Kandryl looked up at them in mild surprise, then, seeing that they wished to speak with him, led them into a smaller workroom away from the noise and movement of the larger rooms.  Seating himself behind the small desk in the room, Kandryl looked over the boys silently and expectantly, waiting for them to speak.

“We want to see Djaisiuk,” said Jaeger abruptly.

Kandryl looked at Jaeger for a moment as if expecting him to continue.

“I’m afraid that he will be asleep by now,” replied Kandryl at last.  “Perhaps another day would be better.”

“This early?” asked Jade incredulously.  “Why would he be asleep already?”

“He works on a different time schedule than do the rest of you,” explained Kandryl patiently.  “He rises earlier, hence he retires earlier.”

“Then . . .” began Leil quietly.  “Then he is working for you?  He’s not a prisoner?”

“Of course he’s not a prisoner,” smiled Kandryl.  “Your friend is a very valuable worker, and he works well.”

“They why did you—” began Eriane, but cut off suddenly.  “Why did . . . what happened today . . . happen?”

Kandryl’s smile faded.  “That was the unfortunate result of . . . various happenings.  I am sorry that you had to witness it, but understand that I have every hope that it will not need to be repeated.”

“Then let us speak with him,” said Jaeger.  “If he’s not a prisoner, then there should be no objection.”

“As I said, he is asleep,” said Kandryl, smiling again now.

“We will wake him, if necessary,” Jaeger replied firmly.  “But we must see him tonight.”

Kandryl's eyebrows rose slightly, and he glanced over all of them.  “I’m sure that you know him better than do I,” he said.  “Are you sure that he would not mind being disturbed?”

Most of the other boys looked uncomfortable at this, but Jaeger remained firm.

“Jaeger, we can wait till tomorrow,” Sandy whispered.

“He wouldn’t like to be disturbed,” agreed Cycil quietly.

“No, we’ll not wait,” said Jaeger.  “We will see him, whether he wants it or not.”

“Jaeger is right,” said Jade.  “We must see him tonight.”

Most of the other boys seemed hesitant, but slowly they all agreed.

Kandryl looked at all of them for a moment, his eyes resting longest on Eriane, then said, “So be it.”

Kandryl rose and went to the door of the room.  He then summoned a guard and instructed him to take the boys to a certain area to which Kandryl gave careful directions.  He did not himself accompany them.  Rather, once they had left his quarters, Kandryl went to his private security room wherein he had access to cameras in every room in the facility.  Here he watched Djaisiuk’s room and listened to see what would happen.

* * * * * *  *

The boys were led to Djaisiuk’s workroom and then shown the door within that led to his sleeping chamber.  The guard did not enter, but waited outside of the workroom with the other guard posted there, allowing the boys the choice of going on or of turning back.  Even Jaeger seemed to reconsider when faced with the necessity of going in himself and waking Djaisiuk.  However, he called to mind the reasons that had brought them there and moved forward.

When the boys opened the second door, they found a very small, dark room, not much larger than a closet, in which a little bed which stretched from one wall to the other made up fully one-third of the space.  Djaisiuk was lying on his back on the bed, covered with a thin coverlet, fast asleep.  Jaeger manually activated the light in the small room as the other boys carefully fitted themselves into the room until there was practically no floor space left.

The light woke Djaisiuk, and he opened his eyes.  He blinked and lay for a very brief moment looking straight up.  He then turned to look at the visitors.  His expression did not change on seeing eight of the boys of his ship crowded into his own small sleeping chamber.  He simply raised himself on his right elbow and looked them over silently, patiently waiting for them to state their reason for being there.

Several of the boys, on seeing him looking so perfectly normal, felt twinges of guilt for having disturbed him.  None had ever been into Djaisiuk’s personal room on the ship, and, though this was not the ship, it still felt like a great breach in propriety to have entered his sleeping chamber without invitation, particularly when he had been asleep.  They were all overjoyed to see him, it is true, particularly after having had no word of him for five days, but the fact remained in each of their minds that he had not requested their presence: they were forcing themselves upon him uninvited at, quite probably, an inconvenient time.

For a moment, no one spoke.  Finally (with a little difficulty, due to the cramped quarters), Jaeger moved forward a little.

“Are you alright, Djaisiuk?” Jaeger asked.

Djaisiuk looked at him, but did not answer.  This was his way of saying, ‘Please rephrase your question,’ and Jaeger understood.  If it was a question that Djaisiuk did not want to answer, he would ignore it.  Here, he acknowledged the question but did not answer it.

Jaeger cleared his throat.  “We, um, heard about what happened this morning.  We . . . just wanted to ask you . . . .”  He trailed off, beginning to lose confidence.

Here Eriane suddenly stepped forward, almost knocking Detrin into Jade as he did so.  “Djaisiuk, may I examine your foot?” he asked abruptly.

Djaisiuk looked at him for a moment, his face forever impassive, and then sat up.  He silently pulled back the light coverlet to reveal his right foot.  The outside of the ankle was shiny from the sealing gel that had been spread over his small wounds, and through it could be seen many small red dots, reaffirming Eriane’s story.  There were several sharp intakes of breath at this sight, the story suddenly becoming much more real to them all.  Eriane alone did not react visibly but simply moved carefully forward, knelt beside the bed, and gently took Djaisiuk’s foot in his hands.

After looking it over carefully and very gently feeling to assure himself (as well as he could without a scanner) that indeed no serious damage had been done, Eriane gently kissed Djaisiuk’s ankle.  Djaisiuk had watched the whole proceeding with an impassive face.  As Eriane kissed him however, it appeared to Jaeger, who had been watching closely, that the slightest shade of emotion (he could not quite identify whether it was compassion, sadness, emotional pain, or perhaps even fear) touched Djaisiuk’s expression, but it was gone in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” Eriane whispered, his eyes lowered.  “They used me and my work to help to create that horrible device.  Can you forgive me?”

Eriane looked up at him pleadingly, but now there was no change in Djaisiuk’s expression.

“Please, Djaisiuk,” Eriane begged.  “At least tell me that you are not angry with me.  Are you?”

Djaisiuk had not taken his eyes from Eriane.  “No,” he said in a low hoarse voice.

Eriane struggled to hold back tears.  “I’m so sorry!” he said softly, again and again.  “I’m so sorry.”

Djaisiuk turned to look at the other boys, almost as if to say, ‘Was there anything else?’

“Djaisiuk, we came to ask whether today changed anything for you,” said Jaeger, his confidence returning at the sound of Djaisiuk’s voice, so rarely heard, and the glimpse of emotion in his face, never before seen (at least by Jaeger himself).  “After today, will you still continue to work for them?”

This time Djaisiuk did not answer; he looked away, ignoring the question, indicating that he had no wish to answer.  Jaeger swallowed, but did not persist.

“Will you tell us why they would do such a horrible thing to you?” asked Sandy quietly.

Again, Djaisiuk ignored the question.

“Is it likely that they may do the same to us?” asked Cycil.

Djaisiuk did not answer immediately, but he did look at Cycil.  After a moment, he said simply, “No.”

“Djaisiuk,” said Wysire, speaking for the first time.  “May I come and see you tomorrow?”

Djaisiuk looked at him, but did not answer.

“That is,” Wysire tried again, “would you like for me to come tomorrow?”  He was offering his services as a counselor, and Djaisiuk understood.  Djaisiuk had never sought Wysire’s services even when they were on the ship, but Wysire wanted to offer them now just the same, seeing what Djaisiuk had just been through.

“No,” came Djaisiuk’s firm reply.

If it had been any of the other boys, Wysire would have insisted, understanding how unhealthy it can be to one’s emotional well-being to be left alone at such a time.  With Djaisiuk, however, Wysire had no authority, and he knew it.  True, here he had no authority over any of them, but there was still the unspoken trust between them as there had been on the ship, even though they were no longer bound by the same rules.

“I know that it is late, and I’m sure that you want to go back to sleep,” said Jaeger, “but I do have one more question, if you would answer it.  On the ship, you told us not to follow your lead, indicating that we all ought to do whatever we thought was best.  Has today changed that at all?”

Djaisiuk looked him in the eye for a very short moment, and then looked away without responding.

“Djaisiuk, please,” Jaeger persisted.  “Won’t you at least answer this?  Do you still suggest that we follow whatever course we feel to be best?”

No response.

“Djaisiuk,” Eriane began hesitantly.  “I’ve seen Faquire.”

Djaisiuk turned his head again to look at Eriane, but this statement produced no visible change in his expressionless face.

“He was used to test the machine that they used on you today,” Eriane continued.

Still there was no reaction.

“Djaisiuk, they used my research to help to design that horrible device!” Eriane exclaimed.  “And now I don’t know whether I should continue to work for them or not.  If this is the kind of use to which they intend to put my work, then I want no part of it!  But I am still afraid of them.  I don’t know what to do.  Please, won’t you give me some advice?”

“No,” came the answer.  Djaisiuk’s voice was a very little bit clearer now, having spoken four words in the space of five minutes, even if they were all the same word.  He closed his eyes as he spoke this last time, however, and raised a hand to his throat, massaging it lightly to relieve some of the soreness.  After a moment, he opened his eyes, glanced over the boys, then covered his foot again and lay down.  He closed his eyes and exhaled as if preparing for sleep.

Eriane lowered his own eyes in defeat.  The other boys looked on silently.  Wysire was the first to break the silence.

“Djaisiuk is, no doubt, tired,” he said.  “We ought to let him sleep.”

The others could not help but acknowledge that Wysire was right.  They each said a quiet goodnight to Djaisiuk, some wishing him well, others very briefly expressing hopes that they would see him again soon, and then left the room.  Eriane lingered longest, wanting to stay, but knowing that he could not.  Once the last of the others had left the room, Eriane too walked out.  Jaeger then turned off the light, murmuring a short apology for having disturbed him, thanked him for allowing them to talk with him, and quietly closed the door.

It was a silent group that walked down the halls as they all went to their respective sleeping quarters that night.  A few offered a quiet goodnight to some of the others, but no other conversation was exchanged.  There was too much on each of their minds.

* * * * * *  *

In his own room, Kandryl leaned back from the screen, very pleased.  He had seen and heard all that had gone on in the room.  He had learned more about Djaisiuk from watching his interaction in ten minutes with the boys than from five days of talking to Djaisiuk himself.  Djaisiuk had spoken very little to them, but they had seemed to have expected this.  None were surprised or offended by his silence and obstinacy.  He had refused even to offer comfort to the boy that had hurt him and now begged forgiveness on bended knee.  Why?  Apparently it was simply because he disliked talking.  He was selfish, Kandryl decided, and did only as he pleased.  He had not even tried to hide the fact that the very small amount of talking that he had done had caused him pain.  He had not seen his comrades for five days, and yet after less than ten minutes of their presence, he had made it very clear that he wanted them to leave.  And yet none of the boys had been offended by this.  They had not even been surprised.  This was Djaisiuk, and that was simply the way that he is, it seemed.  So perhaps his refusal to submit to Kandryl in this area was not outright rebellion and willfulness, but rather it may be simply a personality trait which his pride did not allow to change even in the environment in which he was now placed.  And if this was indeed a part of who Djaisiuk was, if he was not acting a part to deceive his captors, then did Kandryl truly need to change him?

On a whim, Kandryl called up the security recording of his conversation with Djaisiuk on that first night.  He watched it carefully, taking into account now all that he had learned and observed of Djaisiuk over the past few days.  Looking back now, it seemed almost strange that Djaisiuk had spoken as much as he had, that night.  Doubtless he had answered in the beginning, hoping that Kandryl would have enough and leave him be.  Then, when Kandryl had not done so, Djaisiuk had fallen into his stubborn silence, refusing to say anything whatsoever.

So this was, in truth, not rebellion, it seemed, or at least no more than he would probably have displayed on his own planet.  Kandryl could trust Djaisiuk, if this area was the only cause for his doubt.  Indeed, Kandryl had to admit to himself that it certainly appeared to be the best course of action to take for the time being.  He decided that the tests of the mind drug would still be executed, but it seemed less likely now that it would eventually be used on Djaisiuk.  For the time being, Kandryl would trust him.  He would still be carefully observed, but he would be allowed to work without hindrance.  At least, he would be allowed to work unhindered, so long as he continued to give no other cause for suspicion.

* * * * * *  *

The single factor which Kandryl did not consider was that Djaisiuk knew that Kandryl would be watching.  Djaisiuk understood Kandryl far better than Kandryl understood Djaisiuk.  He knew that Kandryl would want to know all about him in order to gauge any weaknesses that Djaisiuk might have.  It was not possible that the boys could all have come to his room on the same night without Kandryl’s knowledge.  Surely such a visit would have piqued Kandryl’s interest.  It was only logical and perfectly obvious then that he would watch and listen to the proceedings.  Even if he had not had prior knowledge of the visit, he would surely be informed and be able to watch and to listen to the event himself at a later time.

The boys had not been surprised at Djaisiuk’s actions (or lack thereof), but this was because they had come with no expectations.  No one could predict how Djaisiuk would act in any setting, although the guess most likely to be correct was that he would do nothing.  This was what they had almost expected, and this was very nearly what he had done.  Jaeger alone had been surprised, because he alone had caught that fleeting glimpse of emotion on Djaisiuk’s face, but he did not share this.  Djaisiuk had been swift to hide it, knowing that if Kandryl suspected that he cared for the other boys more than he did for himself, Kandryl would be sure to use them in such a way as to gain control over Djaisiuk.

Djaisiuk had already determined that he would not allow any of the other boys to be damaged because of himself, if it could be in any way prevented.  He realized now, however, that it could not all be prevented.  Eriane’s news of Faquire was painful, because it showed that Kandryl was, in a sense, using at least one of the boys against him, and possibly more.  Might not Creole and Christopher also be used in such a way?  But against this, there was nothing that he could do.  Hence, he would not allow it to affect his work.  Their ultimate escape was the only sure way of taking them all out of harm’s reach.  At least for now.

Djaisiuk had communicated all that was necessary to the other boys without raising undue suspicion by either too much or too little speech.  He had assured Eriane that he bore him no ill will, and he had informed Wysire that he had no need of counseling.  He was confident that Wysire would derive from this that Djaisiuk was sufficiently well mentally, but that Kandryl would draw the conclusion that this was due to pride.  In short, he had assured his fellow crew members that he was well, but he had done so without acting differently from how Kandryl had come to expect him to act towards Kandryl himself.  The boys had not been surprised by his words or lack thereof, and if they had not been satisfied, at least they did not press the matter.  They had been placated, and Kandryl had been baited.

The scene had been played, and Djaisiuk had only to wait to see what effect, if any, it had produced on Kandryl.

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 14 - Further Plans

On the afternoon of the fifth day, Kandryl again summoned Drayl to his quarters.
 

“It would seem that physical torture is going to be ineffective in breaking his will,” said Kandryl simply as the other was seated.  “I’d like to look into other options now.”
 

Drayl gave an exhalation of contempt.  “If you don’t mind my speaking freely,” he said, “that device this morning was no more than a child’s toy.  I grant you that his tolerance for pain seems rather low, but the test this morning was very short.  Give him to me for one day, no more, and I’ll break his will.  He’ll be perfectly submissive for as long as you like.”
 

“I doubt that he would be of any use to me after that,” said Kandryl, frowning disapprovingly.
 

“I wouldn’t kill him,” Drayl assured him.  “And if you want him to still be able to use his hands afterwards, then that can be assured as well.”
 

“No, Drayl,” Kandryl said firmly.  “I want no permanent damage done whatsoever.  This device was sufficient to show how he will react to the infliction of physical pain: he will not submit to save himself discomfort.  Yes, in time, he would surely be broken, but I don’t want to go that route yet.  Too much other mental damage would done in the process.  I want only his rebellious nature crushed, not his entire will in everything.  I don’t want to drive him to the point of madness and then draw him back again, as I know that you would do.”
 

Drayl shrugged slightly.  “My ways are effective at accomplishing what I want accomplished,” he said.
 

“Which is why you are not in charge of this facility,” replied Kandryl.  “As I said, physical torture seems to be ineffective thus far.  Therefore I want you to begin testing one of the mind drugs that you suggested earlier.  Use one of the three test subjects that we have available, and bring me the results as soon as you have them.  I think that that may be our best option at this time.”
 

“How long of a test do you want it to be?” asked Drayl.  “And how strong of a dose would you like tested?”
 

“I leave that to your judgment,” Kandryl answered.  “But I would suggest that you begin with something comparatively light, and keep a very close watch on the subject at all times.  You can then increase the dosage if necessary, but do it slowly.  I want no mistakes.  We have to be absolutely certain that it breaks the will without damaging the intellect before we try it on him.”
 

“So be it,” replied Drayl.  “We may be able to begin testing tonight, depending on which subject you’d like to use.  Regarding that choice, the oldest of the three has the highest intellect, but the youngest is, by far, the most rebellious.  I would suggest that the latter be the one used for the experiment.  Then, if he is rendered submissive, we may be certain that the drug works on Komislavians.  We could then proceed to test it on the eldest to be doubly sure that the intellect is not harmed in the process.”
 

“Very good,” said Kandryl.  “You may begin as soon as you see fit, but bring me detailed results of the tests on the younger boy before beginning on the older.  I repeat, I want no mistakes with either.”
 

“There will be no mistakes,” replied Drayl.
 

“Remember,” said Kandryl, “these are Komislavians.  They’re still human, yes, but they are very different on a mental level.  What works on a Vukasovian, a Udolian, or even a Londarian will not necessarily work the same way on a Komislavian.  I don’t want any of them damaged.”
 

“I understand,” Drayl assured him.  “I can assure you that we will use the utmost care; they will suffer no long-term ill-effects.”
 

“Very good,” said Kandryl.  He then dismissed Drayl and returned to his own work.  As he worked, he thought over the last day and the day before.  He wondered what he would do if the drugs did not work.  It was frustrating to know that it would be several days at the least before they would be comfortable trying the drug on Djaisiuk.  Kandryl did not want to try to deprive Djaisiuk of food and water until then; permanent damage might certainly be done, in that case.  But did he truly want to leave Djaisiuk to do as he pleased in the meantime?  Kandryl knew that he could always just lock him away in a cell, but Djaisiuk was such a hard worker, and he worked so well.  Already the results that he had given would prove very beneficial in Kandryl’s report to his own superiors concerning the value of the experiment.  Kandryl longed to trust him; it would be so much easier if he could.  Why could not Djaisiuk be submissive?  He was a Komislavian!  Such arrogance and self-possession was something that would be acceptable and even commendable in a Vukasovian of such high intellect, but it was wholly unexpected and therefore quite disconcerting in a Komislavian.  His companions had intimated that he was unique; that there were no others like him in their race.  But that did not assure Kandryl that this behavior was normal for him on his own planet.
 

No, Kandryl did not yet trust Djaisiuk.  He would allow him to continue to work for the time being, but Kandryl would see to it that Djaisiuk was observed closely at all times.  If there was ever the slightest cause for concern, Kandryl would be sure to act swiftly and harshly.  A little more time, perhaps, a little more observation, and he might change his mind.  Perhaps he would eventually come to trust Djaisiuk as fully as Djaisiuk’s Komislavian supervisor, this one whom they called Taician, seemed to trust him.  So long as Kandryl was very careful with him, then there was certainly no shortage of time, at present, and who could say what tomorrow might bring?

THE TWELVE -- Chapter 13 - Try, Try Again

The morning of the fifth day began as the others before it had begun for Djaisiuk.  He arose when the light in his room was activated, exited his sleeping room, and began to work.  He was still weak from lack of food and drink, but he had had the benefit of one meal yesterday.  He didn’t know how much or how long he would be able to continue to work today if he was again given no food, but he knew that he must work as much and as well as he could for as long as he could, even without regular sustenance.  He must convince the Vukasovians that he was valuable to them, even as stubborn and willful as they must imagine him to be.

His young assistant, Kiacyl, did not come into the room at his usual time.  Instead, Kandryl entered.  He again called Djaisiuk to come to the round table and seated himself in the same position as before.

“Djaisiuk,” he said once they were seated, himself facing Djaisiuk, and Djaisiuk gazing down at the table.  “You know what I want from you.  You need only give me affirmation that you will obey me and show me that you truly mean it, and this battle will cease.  If you persist in this half-submission, half-rebellion, then the conflict will continue.  Eventually you will submit, either willingly or unwillingly.  Would it not be wiser simply to submit now and to save yourself unnecessary pain and damage?”

Djaisiuk made no reaction to any of this.  He remained sitting perfectly still, his face expressionless.

Kandryl looked at him silently for time, waiting for an answer, but Djaisiuk refused to look at him.  Finally, Kandryl said simply, “So be it.”

* * * * * * *

At the beginning of the fifth working day, Eriane found himself again standing in the same glass alcove overlooking what he now knew to be a torture chamber.  Again, Drayl was standing to his right, also watching.  Again, two medics below were ensuring that all was in readiness.  The “subject” had not yet arrived.  Eriane hung his head, not able to look into the room, wishing that he were not here.  He did not want to see the device put into use again.  He did not want to think about it.  He certainly did not want to see the face of whomever the Vukasovians intended to subject to it, be it Komislavian, Londarian, Udolian, or even Terrestrial.

“If you have the slightest doubt as to the accuracy of your proofing or the post-trial examination yesterday,” said Drayl, interrupting Eriane’s thoughts, “now is the time to voice them.  If any mistake is made on this subject, the consequences will not be pleasant.”

Eriane swallowed.  “If there was anything that I could say, short of lying, that would stop you from using this device ever again, I would say it.”

Drayl smiled.  “Yes, it must be hard for you.  You are Komislavian, and these are your compatriots.  But don’t be too distraught,” he said softly, “it’ll grow easier in time.”

Eriane shuddered inwardly at Drayl’s words.  Was there truth in them?  If he continued to work for them, would this grow easier in time?  Might he eventually become like one of them?  No, it couldn’t be! he told himself.

Eriane started as something else that Drayl had said suddenly struck him.  “These”?  Surely he had said, “These are your compatriots,” hadn’t he?  Then was this person also a member of his group?  Who might it be today?  Surely it couldn’t be Creole or Christopher: they wouldn’t be considered more valuable than Faquire if they still refused to serve the Vukasovians.  Did they have another Komislavian prisoner about which the boys knew nothing?  Or might it be that Kandryl was attempting to force Creole to work for him, desirous of utilizing Creole’s exceptionally high intelligence?  Yes, that was possible.  Creole would indeed be valuable in their eyes even if for that alone, and, in his profession, permanent physical damage of any kind could be disastrous.  At least Creole was strong, Eriane considered.  This machine, although atrocious, was not more than Creole would be able to bear.  That thought was somewhat comforting, in a grim sort of way.

Eriane wondered again what he ought to do now.  Ought he to join the other three in refusing to serve these Vukasovian monsters?  Yes, of course that is what he should do, he told himself, but still he hesitated.  Surely there was another option.  They had given him a new assignment: he was to assist in the current attempt to find a cure for a congenital disease that seemed to be growing more common among the Vukasovians.  That was good, wasn’t it?  He was once more helping to heal people, even if they were his enemies.  At least it wasn’t evil.  Surely he could continue to work for them without furthering their sadistic tendencies.  Couldn’t he?  And really he had only to do it until they were able to escape.  They would leave this place in time, and it would only complicate matters further if they had one more prisoner to rescue when the escape took place.  Surely it would be best to continue to work for them as long as possible, or at least for now.  But how much longer would it be possible for him to do so?

Eriane decided that he would discuss it with the other boys tonight.  He had spent much time last night in asking God’s forgiveness for what he had done and in begging the Lord to show him what he ought to do.  He still had no answer.  He did not know.  Tonight he would ask the others.  Perhaps “in an abundance of counselors” he would find wisdom.

This train of thought was interrupted by movement within the room below.  A few persons were entering, and Eriane immediately recognized Kandryl at the head.  This was a person of importance indeed, if Kandryl was coming to watch.  Behind him was a short person flanked by two guards.  The nearer guard blocked Eriane’s view, so that he was unable to see who it was, but whoever it was looked to be too short to be either Creole or Christopher.  Eriane wondered if it was even someone whom he knew.  The person did not appear to be being truly guarded, but rather escorted.  The guards did not seem to expect any trouble; whoever it was seemed to be offering no sign of resistance.  Eriane supposed that whoever it was had no idea of what lay in store for him.

The small group approached the table, and two medics stepped forward to position the individual.  It was then that Eriane saw his face.  It was Djaisiuk.

Eriane gasped and tried to cry out, but the sounds stuck in his throat.  “No!” he exclaimed at last.  “Stop!  You can’t do this to him!”

Drayl looked down at him disapprovingly.  “Calm yourself,” he said sharply.  “As you said, it will have no lasting effect.”

“Please, you don’t understand!” Eriane continued.  “He doesn’t have the level of tolerance for pain that Faquire, your test subject, has.  This will be too much!  I know him.  You can’t do this to him!”

Drayl looked at him sharply.  “Do you mean to say that this will damage him?”

“It very well may.  I cannot say that it certainly will, but it may.  He is unused to physical pain.  He is not normal.  Please don’t do this to him!”

Drayl pressed a button, and the medics within the room paused in their work.  They had finished strapping Djaisiuk down and had been proceeding to prepare his right foot for the device.  They now stood still and waited for orders.

Drayl had walked down to the entrance of the room and was now engaged in conversation Kandryl.  Kandryl seemed to consider for a moment what Drayl was saying, and then dismissed him.  Drayl returned to Eriane.

“They will be careful,” he said simply.  "And if anything goes wrong, that is why you are here."

* * * * * * *

In the room below, Djaisiuk lay with perfect calm as the medics strapped him to the table.  He was prepared.  He understood that this was simply the next battle in the war for his will, being fought between himself and Kandryl.  He knew that he would soon undergo physical pain.  This was unavoidable and therefore no cause for worry.  They might dismember him or skin him alive, but it would make no difference in his decision.  He did not think that they would kill him, but even if they threatened it, he would remain firm.  He would not yield to Kandryl’s commands.  He could only hope that this would be the final test and that it would have no long-lasting ill-effects, either mental or physical.  Especially mental.  Djaisiuk knew that he would not yield, even their torments drove him into madness, but he strongly hoped that that wouldn't happen.  In addition, though to a slightly lesser degree, the loss of time to his plan was beginning to annoy him.  And if they did drive him to insanity or if they decided to kill him, the consequences to his friends and compatriots due to the continuation of this experiment would be very bad, though in that case it would be out of his hands.  Yes, it was all in the capable hands of God, and He would do as He pleased, with or without Djaisiuk.  It was that thought which most comforted him now.

It was true that in Djaisiuk’s line of work he rarely experienced physical pain.  Djaisiuk knew this.  But he also knew that his will power was almost unbreakable.  He was stubborn to an extreme, when he wished to be so.  He would die before he would yield.

The medics had stopped working for a moment, and Kandryl had left his side, but the latter soon returned and the medics started again.  When they had finished at last, Kandryl approached the table and stood at Djaisiuk’s left hand.

“We need not proceed,” he said.  “It is your choice.”

For a moment, Djaisiuk made no reply.  He lay still, looking up at the ceiling, his face perfectly expressionless.  Then, as Kandryl was about to speak again, Djaisiuk swallowed and opened his mouth.

“I will work,” he said slowly.

Kandryl looked a little surprised.  “And will you also speak when instructed to do so?” he asked.

This time, Djaisiuk did not reply at all.  Kandryl waited, but Djaisiuk gave no indication that he had even heard the question.

“Very well,” said Kandryl at last.  He motioned to a medic, and the procedure began.

* * * * * * *

The first needle entered, and Eriane winced.  He then could not hold back a small cry of inner pain as he watched a spasm of pain pass through Djaisiuk.  Djaisiuk did not clench his fists as Faquire had done; rather he closed his eyes and tensed the muscles in his arms and neck.  He also began to tremble slightly.  Eriane saw that Djaisiuk’s lips were parted, and he had already begun to breathe a little deeper than was usual for him.

Kandryl bent over him and said something, but Djaisiuk’s eyes remained closed and he made no response.

The second needle entered, and Djaisiuk cried out a little with the pain.  It was the same with the third and fourth.  Djaisiuk’s breathing was ragged.  He was pale and sweating.  Eriane had never seen him this way, and it tore at his heart and conscience to watch.

When the fifth needle entered, Eriane frowned a little in mingled confusion and concern and leaned forward, watching Djaisiuk’s face closely.  Something was wrong.  As the sixth needle entered, Djaisiuk gasped strangely, opened his eyes, and looked up at the ceiling with bleared eyes.

“Stop!” Eriane exclaimed.  “He’s about to lose consciousness!”

Even as he spoke, Djaisiuk’s eyes rolled back, and he went completely limp.  At that same moment, the seventh needle entered, but Djaisiuk did not move.

Kandryl held up a hand, indicating to the medics to stop the machine, and bent forward over Djaisiuk.  He then gave another sign and both of the medics jumped forward to revive him.

Eriane looked down at Djaisiuk, still frowning in confusion.  He had done it intentionally; Eriane could see that.  Djaisiuk had done something on purpose that had caused himself to pass out.  It hadn’t been due to the pain, although that may have been the reason that Djaisiuk had done it, but it hadn’t been natural.  From the movements of the medics and the expression on Kandryl’s face, it appeared to Eriane that the others in the room didn’t realize this fact.

Eriane again turned to Drayl.  “Please let me go to him!” he pleaded.  “I am very familiar with him, and I know how best to treat him.  Please let me attend to him.”

Drayl shook his head.  “You are not needed in there,” he said.  “The medics are well trained.  He’ll be fine.”

“I was permitted to attend Faquire yesterday,” argued Eriane.  “Why not Djaisiuk today?”

“Yesterday was a test,” said Drayl, beginning to sound annoyed.  “We had to be certain that all was in readiness for today.  You, being Komislavian, were the most obvious choice to perform the analysis afterward.  This is not a test; you will not be needed unless something goes wrong.”

“Wouldn't you say that something has gone wrong?”

“Have you never seen torture before now?” scoffed Drayl.  “No, I would not say that 'something has gone wrong.'  He is still breathing, and there is no visible damage.  After you've been here for a few months, I'll show you what I mean by 'something going wrong.'”

Eriane bit his lip and turned back to watch the room below in an agony of pain, anger, and confusion.  He could not even order his thoughts to reply to Drayl.  He struggled to ignore the words and the images that they evoked and to concentrated on Djaisiuk.

The medics had successfully revived Djaisiuk, and he lay still now with his eyes closed.  His face was white and covered with sweat.  His breathing was light and irregular.  Even so, he did not look at Kandryl or acknowledge him when the other spoke to him.

At a motion from Kandryl, the procedure continued.  Eriane couldn’t watch anymore.  He closed his eyes and began to pray.  He prayed for God’s forgiveness for himself for assisting in the creation this horrible device; he prayed that the Lord would be with Faquire and would help his wounds to heal; he prayed for the Lord’s Spirit to strengthen Djaisiuk and to be with him throughout this horrible procedure.  And he prayed too that it would end quickly.

At last it was over.  When Eriane felt Drayl relax somewhat, he raised his eyes.  Djaisiuk was conscious, but his eyes were still closed and his muscles were relaxed.  His slightly irregular breathing alone told Eriane that Djaisiuk was not asleep or unconscious.  The medics within the room busied themselves with coating the many small wounds as Eriane had done with Faquire on the day previous.  Eriane again asked for permission to go to Djaisiuk, but still Drayl refused it.

“No,” Drayl told him.  “We are finished here.  We will leave now.”

Eriane knew that entreaties were useless, so he forced his eyes away from the room below and followed Drayl out of the alcove.

“You were right,” mused Drayl as they walked down the hall together.  “This one seems to have a very low tolerance for pain.  Even so, I cannot imagine that little toy breaking the will of anyone short of a Londarian.  If he had submitted, I would have been disappointed.”

Eriane did not answer.  His inner turmoil was too great to describe.  How could they do this to Djaisiuk?  Why?  What had he possibly done to deserve this?  Eriane had to fight to hold back the tears as they approached the medical research area where he was now expected to return to work as usual for the rest of the day.