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20. Aine ~ Mound of flesh

  I stood on the chariot’s ramp, pausing to let myself take in the city lights. At least that's what I told myself. Oren knew what I was really doing; which was thinking about making a run for it. I found that out when I tried to sprint away, only making it a handful of steps before I felt his grip like a vice around my forearm.

  I expected more anger from him as he tugged me inside the craft, slamming his fist against a button to close the ramp. “Arena, use the thirty third corridor,” he shouted toward the front.

  “Aye sir,” came a voice from the front. A man, dressed in a loose-fitting jumpsuit with a lion patch over his left sleeve that matched the insignia on Oren’s chest. I judged he must be well into his thirties by the lack of hair on his head. He sat overlooking a number of screens I assumed controlled the craft. He nodded, touching one of the screens before the chariot began to rise.

  “I ken yer’ scared,” Oren said, still gripping my arm, “and were the circumstances any different, I’d help ye’ flee meself. But as things stand, it isn’t just the young lord that’ll die. If ye’ can’t help win him a title, his father’ll purge anyone loyal to him. Including yours truly.”

  “Why should I care?” I demanded, finally prying my arm free, rubbing it as I took a step back. “He breeds people for a living, lies to us while we suffer and die to grow your stupid flowers...and you help him.”

  Oren let out a weary breath, staring at the chariot’s floor a moment before answering. “Ye’ sound a lot like him.”

  “Like who?” I asked.

  “Lucian,” Oren answered as he sat in one of the seats across from me.

  My head jerked into the headrest as I eyed him, trying to find the joke.

  “When nobles like the duke are permitted offspring, a few dozen are made. I won't bore ye’ with all the details, but from the age of ten they’re made tae compete against one another, even kill each other, until only one remains."

  “The prime?”

  “Aye. It’s a miracle he’s survived this long, as adverse tae killing as he is. Even at a young age, Lucian opposed the farms.” Oren chuckled, “drove his father mad...and despite all his siblings trying tae knock him off, he managed to stay alive…The duke put him here tae punish him. Rub his nose in the very thing he despises.”

  “I've seen him kill,” I said, incredulously. “He’s making Corin peel off Aldren’s flesh.” My fists clenched as I remembered my first encounter with him, overhearing him in the temple. “He told the Sanctari he should liquidate us if he had to, that not enough of us were dead. How could somebody like that want the practice to end?” I stared Oren down, fists trembling as I dared him to explain.

  He breathed a short laugh as he scratched the stubble on his chin. “Before ye’ came along, he was planning tae make a mess o’ things. Do poorly enough tae get ‘is father to send ‘im somewhere else, but not poor enough tae have ‘im killed.”

  “Ah, I believe your species calls that ‘weaponized incompetence.’”

  “If he convinced the overseer to cull more than usual, it wouldna be long before that village would run out o’ livestock.” Oren shook his head, laughing. “Had no idea tha’s how he planned tae do it.”

  I stared blankly as I tried to piece it together. The motivations made sense, but it wasn’t helping his case, not with me. “He cares about our suffering, so he tries to make the Sanctari kill us all early? Why not...I don’t know, FREE US?”

  “Tae where, lass? Aside from you, the people that’re bred can hardly reason.”

  “They reason well enough to know pain.” I let out, my words ending with a rasp as they fell broken from my mouth. Oren squirmed uneasily.

  “I’m sure it crossed ‘is mind, but he’s just one man overseein’ a handful of farms...and it's a whole galaxy o’ rich pricks that don’ want tae stop livin’ out there. There aren’t many that see yer’ lot as people the way Lucian does. Most think of ye’ as cattle.”

  “Does everyone use the treatments?”

  “No. Only the ones the emperor deems worthy get treatments for free, those fighting in his wars for example. It’s traded as a commodity anyone can buy, but few have the means.”

  “Its expensive?” I asked, wondering morbidly just how much my corpse was worth.

  “A single treatment has a heftier price tag than this shuttle we’re flyin’ in, which is why nobles like Lucian’s father’ll never quit farmin’ yer lot. Far too much money in it.”

  My eyes went wide. “How many villages like mine exist?” I managed, struggling to swallow what felt like a stone hardening in my throat.

  “Too many.” He answered, brow creasing as he frowned.

  “Aine. Leave it. Please. This isn’t the time to make yourself sad.”

  “How many?” I snapped, the pitiful look on his face starting to piss me off. “Ten? Fifteen? A hundred?”

  “Thousands.” He answered, eyes narrowing to weary slits as he leaned back, waiting for my response. I didn’t respond. Instead, I pulled my knees into my chest, shrinking into my seat as I stared at the city lights below. They made me feel even smaller as they streaked past, somehow visible through the hull of the chariot. Another strange working of this world that livestock like me couldn’t understand.

  Belial sighed in my ears. “You aren’t stupid just because you don’t know something. I can teach you how the hull of this ship works.”

  That isn’t the point. I was never meant to be here…never supposed to see any of this. Part of me wanted to go back. Back to when I had no idea how small, how meaningless my existence really was. It would’ve been better to spend my life in the garden, plucking flowers from corpses till the end of my days…

  “Ye’ feel small don’t ye’? Worthless.” I lifted my head, jaw dropping before it snapped shut, my face tightening in anger as he went on. “Tha’s cuz ye’ are worthless. Another mound o’ flesh bein ground in a cruel machine. One ye’ll never understand.” He paused to sneer at my reaction, pushing a short, humorless laugh through his nose. “Wha’s a matter, lass? Am I cuttin’ too close tae bone?”

  “What, slavery isn’t enough? You have to make me feel bad too?” I snapped, daring him to answer as rage burned inside my chest.

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  My eyebrows drew together when he only shook his head, a sadness filling his eyes as he hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Y’know, when I was your age, I shot me own mother through the head.”

  “Oh dear, I think he may be deranged.”

  My mouth hung open as Oren continued, unfazed by the mixture of confusion and disgust on my face.

  “See, my father was a corporate man, born a citizen o’ Aurix Corp. Spent two hundred years in and out of stasis, strippin’ worlds tae bone, before he finally earned a permit to have me. Was a few more years before e’ met my mother.” He paused for a moment, staring past me as his mouth curved into a sad smile. One that made me think he might be picturing his mother.

  “He needed a permit to have you?” I asked, sheepishly.

  “Aye, an’ they’re not easy to come by, but me auld man was nae stranger to toil. Dragged ‘imself up the ladder, sweating for every mouthful we had. I remember the day they made him a Captain, put him at the helm o’ his own vessel. Was a derelict piece o’ scrap but still, mother and I were proud…Captain’s get tae bring their families along on missions, y’see.”

  “Is that where your mother…” I started to ask, leaning uneasily into my seat as Oren’s fists tightened.

  “Aye. My father helped organize the first union any corp had seen in twelve hundred years, which was not something Aurix was willing tae forgive.”

  “Union?” I puzzled.

  “That’s when all the worthless mounds o’ flesh band together. No one person can stand against the corps, but together, they become something big. Too big for the gears to swallow.” He shook his head softly, eyes still lost somewhere else. “Tha’s how me da’ always told it.”

  “Why? Band together for what?” I asked, imagining how my own life would’ve been if I were born in this corp. “Weren’t they already free?”

  “Sure,” Oren laughed. “Once their indenture is paid, or if yer lucky enough tae be born there, yer’ license fee.”

  “License fee?”

  “Aye, every person born inside the corps are considered a licensed product o’ said corp. Least tha’s how most are run. Tha’s no’ even mentioning yer’ parents debt if they had any, which they likely did. Tha’s yer’s when they die, which won’t take them long tae do. Specially no’ if they work on the rigs…or in the refineries.”

  “But you can buy yourself free?” As bad as he made it sound, it couldn’t be any worse than my life had been. At least they had a way out.

  Oren laughed again. “How many d’ye recon ever manage tae do tha’? It’s the same as yer’ villages. Same design. Twisted slightly tae fit within the confines o’ the law…the few law’s they couldna pay tae change.”

  I nodded, imagining what might’ve happened if all the people in my village had done the same. “They realized they couldn’t be free on their own…so they came together.”

  “Aye.” Oren muttered, letting his head hang even lower on his shoulders. “Things were better for a time. They negotiated more pay, even managed to raise the working age, but no amount of bodies is enough tae stop those gears from churning…and before long, Aurix started tae work, pullin’ them apart.”

  “Separating them? How?”

  “They marked the important folks, my father bein’ one. Couldna outright kill them, that’d cause a riot, grind their machine tae a halt. Instead, they gave em each fancy titles, tried tae bribe the fight out of em. Only my father was too stubborn tae be bribed, so when his ship broke down halfway to his new assignment, we all knew what’d happened.”

  “What?” I asked, gripping the armrest of my chair as the ship tilted sideways into a turn.

  “Sabotaged, coils were set tae overload before we ever left port…an’ since the journey was only meant to be eight months, ship wasna equipped with any stasis pods…”

  “Why didn’t you call for help?” My head jerked as Oren barked out a laugh.

  “We did. Took months tae hear back between transmissions, after a few years we realized Aurix wasna sending anyone, just stalling till we ran out o’ food. Even on rations, only took a year before we did. My father offered ‘imself up tae feed the crew, made em swear to leave me an’ my mother alone if he did.”

  “To…” I gagged, “feed? They ate him?”

  “Aye, after that we drew lots. The crew was forty-seven when we left port, widdled down tae sixteen souls. It was then they made us draw as well…that’s when she made me.” He grimaced, chin jutting for a moment before he spit on the floor of the ship. “It was a week later when some scrappers found us, drifted for three years before then.”

  “I’m…sorry,” I said, meeting his eyes. He avoided them, favoring the floor for a moment before he finally grunted.

  “The point I’m tryin tae make is we’re none of us are free. That machine grinds us all.”

  Something about the comparison pissed me off, I balled my fists. “Right now, you’re the one doing the grinding.”

  “Me?” Oren scowled, shaking his head as if I’d said something insane. “I’m saving yer’ life. Ye’d die out there. At least in the games ye’ stand a chance. If Lucian has a title he can protect ye’ from ‘is father, an’ he will. He’s a thorn in me’ side most days, but he’s an honorable man.”

  It was my turn to shake my head in disbelief. “I don’t see what’s so honorable about him making me his slave.”

  “Yer’ no slave.” Oren barked.

  “Then why don’t I have a choice?” I shot back, raising my chin.

  “Set down here, pilot” Oren shouted toward the front of the craft. The man flying it turned, giving Oren a confused look before the chariot began to slow.

  “We’re still ten clicks from the Arena, Capt-,”

  “Do it.” Oren shouted before standing to move toward the back of the craft. I lurched forward in my seat as the chariot shuddered to the ground. Oren slammed his fist against a button, lowering the ramp. My breath caught as his fingers encircled the ring that controlled my collar. I winced, half expecting that burning sensation to seep into me. My eyes clamped shut when suddenly a hiss came from around my neck. Cautiously, I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly as I stared at the collar resting in my lap.

  Is he going to let me go?

  “Stayin’ with us is yer’ only chance, but I wil’no’ stand in yer way if ye’ mean tae go.”

  “Won’t you die?”

  “Aye, so would the Lord and anyone loyal tae him when his father arrives, along with Corin and Eunice if they can find em’, but that’s no’ yer’ concern.”

  The pilot stood from his seat, “Sir, Lord Caelan-”

  His hands shot up as Oren pulled a gun from his side, pointing it at the man’s head as he continued to address me. “I'm no’ lying when I say ye’ll die out there. Yer only chance o’ survival is to help us, but I won't deprive ye o’ that choice. Tournament or no’, the lord’s father’ll track ye’ down to clean up Lucian’s mess.”

  I stood, chest tightening as I looked from Oren to the open ramp and the empty street outside. Why was I hesitating? I’d literally just tried to escape.

  What do you think? What are my chances out there?

  “Well, knowing for certain that the lord’s father would hunt you down either way changes things.”

  Changes things how?

  “Essentially your choices are near certain death either way, the only difference is, if you stay you aren’t completely alone.”

  I nodded, drawing a quizzical look from Oren. “I’m thinking.” I spat at him, starting to pace as I lowered my head in thought.

  Can’t we just…find somewhere to hide?

  “Where? I don’t know anyone here, do you?”

  I wanted to scream. There it was. Freedom, staring me in the face. Only it wasn’t. The only choice I really had was how I preferred to die; running from people trying to kill me in some strange city, or running from things trying to kill me in the tournament. Belial was right. Still, I wanted to run, to be free more than anything. I noticed Oren’s arm was trembling as I took a step toward the ramp. He’d have to lower the gun or shoot the pilot unless I decided soon. I took another step before Belial’s voice halted me.

  “I...won’t stop you…but I think this is a mistake.”

  How? If I’m going to die anyways, I may as well be free.

  “Well technically if you decide to enter the tournament you would still be free. Also, it’s true that based on what I know your odds of winning are…slim, but if Lucian is willing to bet his life on our success, then he likely knows something we don’t.”

  What do you mean? I asked, starting to feel warm despite the breeze from the open ramp.

  “Look at the way he played Aldren and Eunice, how he used them both against his father.”

  Are you kidding? Without you opening his bedroom door, I’d already be dead.

  “Yes, I am truly incredible.” He gushed, drawing an eyeroll from me as he went on, “but what I mean is, I doubt Lucian’s planning to play fair in this tournament either.”

  “I don’t mean tae rush ye’, but-”

  “Do you think I can win?” I interrupted, studying Oren’s face as he answered. He grinned, pushing out his chest.

  “Wouldna still be here if I did no’.”

  I nodded, plopping back in my seat with a heavy sigh. The pilot’s hands fell to his sides as Oren lowered the gun, holstering it. I felt a tiny bit of guilt, smiling apologetically at the pilot as he exhaled shakily.

  “Pilot,” Oren barked as the ramp shuddered closed, “we’re short on time, get us in the sky.”

  Thanks to those of you who've read this far. Remember to rate/comment/review if you want Aine's story to reach more eyes.

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