THE GUARDSMAN: Book 2: Blood Debts – Chapters 57

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The Guardsman, Book 2: Blood Debts:

Chapter 57)

The guard sergeant’s angry grumbles pierced Jonas’ splitting headache, “Put ’em in … Take ’em out. What’s next ‘put ’em back in’?”

The additional footfalls and shrieking turning of the lock startled Jonas into a convulsive arch. His face was stuck to the floor with his slobber and whatever was caked to the floor before he had landed there the night prior. “Get this scum up, wash ‘im down, ‘n dress ‘im in walking irons only.”

One of them complained, “Why?” Three sets of rough hands pulled him off the floor, while the guard sergeant stayed by the door with the keys, “We just tossed ‘im in here last night … ‘n why in the hell did they get us outta bed for this shit detail! Our shift don’t start fer another seven hours.”

A gruff senior voice barked, “Quit yer belly achin’ sissy boy! Orders from the man, they dragged me outta my rack too, so I want none of your lip.”

The whirl of activities around Jonas left his pounding head spinning. First, the canvas suit with the handles was stripped off. Then he was stripped naked and hosed down with cold water, every time they worked on his head it felt like his eyes would pop out onto the floor. Once he was scrubbed clean with a caustic burning soap, they hosed him down again with the ice water. They tossed a towel in his face and told him to dry and dress in the same clothes he wore the day before. They did little more than shake them out and hang them to air while he was being hosed and scrubbed. The practice uniform still felt better than it had when he was stripped out of the canvas suit.

Jonas was force-fed food that was even worse than he normally received. Since his hands were cuffed to his waist and his feet were on a short length of chain to his wrists, he couldn’t lift his arms. The guard assigned to feed him shoveled faster than Jonas could choke the mess down and was only allowed time to catch up when the guard grumbled at his stupidity for not even being able to eat right without making a mess while whipping Jonas’ face for him.

He was dragged through the processing center from whatever area they used to feed him, and they tossed him into an elevator separated from the rest of the security area by several double-thick and guarded door systems. At some unmarked floor, the doors opened, and the three guards and the sergeant shoved and dragged him around corners and down corridors faster than his legs could clank to cover the distance on their chain-restricted steps.

The guard sergeant grumbled that the big boss was going to be there, so they all needed to look their prettiest. When he palmed an access plate and slipped his ID card over a reader with the other hand, Jonas was accosted for the first time in his life by a shocking stiff outdoor breeze.

The shock of absolute sudden agoraphobia at the sudden step into the infinite open-air spaces was only balanced by the stunning radiance of unimaginably blue skies, a white-hot ball of fire throwing heat onto his face, the exquisite feeling of crisp cool breeze striking his skin for the first time, and the magnificently magical view of infinite light striking and reflecting from multiple spikes of various color crystal shooting through the ever-present mists.

He had no eyes for the blue security skimmer or the gold embossed heraldry denoting its corporate origins. Jonas had only seen those things on the vid dramas.

The vids in no way prepared him for the sight of the sky, for the very first time!

Jonas didn’t even hear them tell him that he had to move, nor did he feel his toes dragging over the pavement while he was dragged onto the landing pad. All he could see was the biggest blue sky he had ever imagined in his life. He was on the top of the world, looking out over the tops of the city’s buildings. His headache pounded but his eyes worked before his knees were slammed into the side of the skimmer and the pain ripped him out of his wonder at the world.

The guards tossed him into the skimmer, this time on his back. Once the guards were in, he was secured to the floor by clamps that latched onto the shackles at his wrists and ankles. As if the steel bolts and clamps were not enough to hold him in place, two guards reclined on the facing bench seats and propped their feet up on his chest, like they had done it a thousand times before.

Jonas, from his back on the floor, could feel as well as hear the whining of the engines as the craft lifted. When he realized he could see out the window, which was meant for the guards, and could see a sliver of sky and passing buildings he happily ignored their babbling while he watched buildings and other aircraft whip past the engine nacelle on that side of the security skimmer.

Other than the nausea from the banking turns, the pounding headache, and the guards using him as a footstool, the trip was amazing. He had no idea where he was being taken, but he wasn’t in the canvas suit anymore and that was a plus.

Jonas did guess when the trip was over by watching the engine nacelle change shape and direction while the craft changed speed and banked slowly. They were also dropping as the buildings slipped past his sliver of window, but he still didn’t recognize where they were.

When they touched down, the guards all stood in the confines of the security skimmer, for the first time Jonas realized that the blue-clad security officers were all wearing pistols and polished boots with clean uniforms. The security guard sergeant from the night prior spoke first, “Alright you idiots. We’re in big boss land now. None of you idiots say a thing.” With his boot heel, he kicked Jonas in the side of the ribs, “That goes double for you. You open your mouth once ‘n I’ll break your teeth out one by one with my baton, you hear me?”

Jonas could only find the courage to nod from the floor as the security personnel stepped over him and one by one dropped onto the landing pad. The sergeant was last and popped the floor bindings with his key. As soon as the locks clattered back onto the floor three hands on each leg, gripped and pulled him across the rough metal floor plates. They tossed his legs past and down as the three guards on the ground gripped his chest and pulled him upright. The blue-clad sergeant dropped lightly onto the landing pad and pulled the exterior door closed. Jonas couldn’t see the thumbs-up and replying nod exchanged between the pilot and the guard sergeant telling him that his cargo compartment was secured.

As he stood looking around at the first major landing dock he had ever seen, Jonas missed the blue security men straightening their uniforms and equipment. The bay was enormous, it was many times bigger than the dormitory that housed the eight hundred students in his school’s year group, even with the bathrooms for the four hundred boys and four hundred girls, and this man-made cavern was not only larger but much taller. There were vehicles of every description and size arriving and departing. It was a maddening dance when mixed with the trolleys and loaders that shuffled back and forth under and between the air traffic.

The patting brushing hands on his rumpled practice uniform startled him back to reality, as Jonas looked down and around. The sleek black luxury skimmer slipped into the berth next to the prisoner transport, it looked like it was sculpted out of some precious black stone but drifted so smoothly that it might as well have been made of air. The sergeant grumbled, “Look sharp you ugly apes. That’s the big boss, remember what I told y’all, ‘n keep your noise holes shut or I’ll shut ’em for ya’.”

The impeccably clean man in the silk suit, like Jonas only saw in vids, stepped out of the vehicle’s far side and looked around in disdain while shaking his head. His dismissive hand wave to a passenger who remained in the vehicle was punctuated by his saying, “This dog and pony show won’t take long, we’ll be out before long. Stay with the car and get some prep for that board meeting done. I’m not happy with our PnL presentation. Clean that up and recheck the figures with accounting. Make the quarter look like less of a shit show.” Before the other could reply he shut the door in the man’s face.

Jonas realized that this guy must actually be a big boss! For real, in real life, not just on the vid!

While Jonas was staring slack-jawed; the man looked the five of them over dismissively, before looking back to the front of the vehicle. Jonas looked to his left to see what the man was looking at and was surprised to see armed soldiers in black and gold trim armor with assault gauss held at the ready. The soldier in the center pressed something in his left ear below his helmet, before reaching across his armor to pull the Gauss harness higher on his chest. He casually draped his left hand over the butt stock of the weapon as he eyed the collection of four security forces personnel, the prisoner, and the man in the suit. His voice, calm but easy to hear, left no room for debate or deliberation, “CEO Lowe and party, you will follow me immediately.” He turned and began a slow march to one of the massive security locks into what had to be the interior of the building.

The CEO fell into the front and the security guards behind with their prisoner in the middle. Jonas had never seen a pistol before today, only in vid shows, now he was surrounded by men who carried them for a living. The soldiers silently fell into a smooth oval around the party of six visitors. They didn’t snap into any formation like on a show, they drifted smoothly like being swallowed by a blob. They were breezed through security, made an obtuse set of turns, and were whisked along silent corridors that were a stark reversal from the bustling loading dock where they had arrived.

The corridors were sparsely populated, and unadorned, but immaculately clean.

Jonas still had no idea where he was. It was just another building with long corridors, and he was having trouble keeping pace in the leg irons. The first two elevators appeared to be little more than cargo lifts. But as they went higher and higher into the building the changes at floors passed more elaborate security points, all manned by armed, black with gold-trimmed soldiers.

Jonas just continued to clank along in the middle of the procession wondering at everything around him, since it was all new there was no relief from the sensory overload he was suffering. The guards on the other hand were beginning to cluster around him. CEO Lowe was maintaining his steady swagger behind their cordon of guards.

CEO Lowe didn’t startle until the procession passed the meeting rooms and functionary offices he typically visited. He obviously recognized those rooms but had always reached them through public security. The grand sweeping main entrance connected several floors with broad sloping ramps and several elegant stair systems that all connected in a dizzyingly grand pattern.

The squad leader of the soldiers slowed his march when they were into the main entrance area. He looked behind over his shoulder at Jonas’ leg irons and changed their course through the crowd. They moved away from one of the stair systems and to a series of ramps along the walls. As they ascended the double helix of ramps they steadily diverged, and the main entrance foyer opened to allow more light.

When the ramps terminated on a landing Jonas stared slack-jawed at the massive black double doors in front of them. A massive gold disk printed with stylized lightning bolts around the curve of the disk was awe-inspiring. The lead soldier, who was facing the double door, reached into one of the pouches on the front of his armor and was sarcastically interrupted by the CEO, “So what now, a bomb scan too?”

When the soldier turned, Jonas could see the identification card held between two fingers of his left hand as he tapped the side of the ID card against the stock of his weapon before replying. “CEO Lowe, we take security very seriously here. You have already passed through several layers of visible security.”

CEO Lowe grumbled sarcastically, “Just open the door, Sergeant.”

The senior soldier kept his polite tone but Jonas could feel it grow frosty underneath, “CEO Lowe, you are the one who arrived late while on a time schedule here. Please don’t patronize me, because without my assistance you will not make your appointment. Our security procedures are ours alone. This is our domain. You are a guest here. We do not talk about our security with strangers. You may address me as Staff Sergeant or Squad Leader, please.”

As the Staff Sergeant turned back to the door, he slipped the card along a thin slot at the bottom of the left half circle. Jonas could hear the release of electromagnetic locks and the immovable doors flexed outward slightly. The left door alone was pushed open by another soldier in black armor from the inside. It swung effortlessly but was thicker than Jonas’ hand had he laid the base of his palm at one corner and stretched his fingers to the far corner. It was pushed open very slowly and stopped smoothly with what appeared to be a very concentrated and practiced effort.

The Staff Sergeant began his march as the door stopped and was followed by the procession. The two heavy combat suits at the end of the corridor, and their heavy Gauss rifles seemed to track the very souls of the visitors behind the opaque black masks. The very slight occasional twitch and movement of the suits meant that they were occupied. One suited soldier was silently tapping his trigger finger against the lower receiver of his weapon while they approached.

Jonas’s untrained eye missed it, but CEO Lowe was impressed by the purposeful movements and smooth silent efficiency of the office beyond the heavy troopers. This was an extremely well-managed office with highly competent people at every level. Even this early on a Saturday morning, they were moving with a crisp efficiency that was a marvel. Jonas was just amazed by all the space everyone had, he studied in his bunk or in efficiency seating at tables just like the dining room but with reading lights in the tables. The only major office that was obviously closed was the one that said simply ‘Executive Vice President’. Whoever that was, was not in that morning, and had probably been gone a long time. The desk that seemed to guard the door was occupied by a harried-looking fellow behind several mountains of paperwork that he was busily shuffling and checking.

Two of the blue-clad security guards hooked their arms into Jonas’ shackled arms, at the elbows, and carried him up the several flights of stairs before dropping him at the landing where the Staff Sergeant waited patiently for them and the rear of his squad to catch up. The jarring drop to his feet reignited his headache with a ferocity Jonas wished he could forget.

The landing opened to an antechamber, which made a ninety-degree turn to the left, and an automatic door. Two hard-faced soldiers stood outside the door, with black enameled armor with thick gold rank insignia and gold inlaid names. The one with a larger symbol above his name, leaned his right shoulder against the wall next to the door and grumbled with as much enthusiasm as a block of wood. “You’re late,” his thicker, more powerful version of the assault rifle was cradled across his right thigh in a loose ‘H’ harness sling.

He and his partner casually stood straighter as the soldiers slammed to a halt in unison, followed by the CEO, the blue guards, and Jonas to his stumbling clanking stop. As the tan-skinned man with blue eyes who spoke straightened, Jonas noticed that the bottom right side half of his face was ripped to pieces and healed in a twisted jagged multilayer scar. His rifle passed from his right hand to his left, as he pressed it to his armored abdomen.

The Staff Sergeant snapped to attention with a crisp parade ground salute, “Sorry Sir. We came straight away.”

The officer replied with a crisp salute and said smoothly, “I know you did, Staff Sergeant. That’s why I’m not pissed off at you. I wasn’t saying that you were the one who was late.” He dropped his salute, “We’ve got it from here, Staff Sergeant. Your squad detail is released to your Commander.”

The squad leader snapped another salute which was immediately returned by the scarred officer.

As soon as the Staff Sergeant dropped his saluting hand to his side his squad snapped their heels together. The crack in the antechamber’s marble floor and stone walls made a sudden whip-crack announcement that the squad was at the position of attention that startled all six visitors.

Without visible orders, the whole squad turned about-face and marched from the room.

Preceded by a sigh, the scarred officer began talking to the guests, “We won’t do you the indignity of searching you or taking your holstered weapons. But, so help me God, if any one of you places a hand so much as close to those flap holsters, we will cut you down in a hail of five-millimeter bullets faster than you can think to breathe an apology.” The scarred man strolled across the short distance between his wall lounge, to the assembled guests.

The man had short-cropped but light-colored hair and sky-blue eyes.

The sky-blue color description was the last pleasant thing you could use to describe those eyes. They held a raptor quality and as much compassion as a viper striking fangs first. “You all may call me ‘Guardsman’ or ‘Major’. I am Captain of the Guard Squad. You will all do as you are told the first time, every time. Do not screw with me and we will get along until you are all on your way back to wherever it was you came from.”

The expressed and implied threats were not what struck Jonas. What struck him was that they were calmly delivered like the Major was talking about playing a hand of cards or discussing last night’s vid drama.

When no one said anything, he turned and walked to the closed door that opened before him. His partner on the other side of the door hung back and watched as the guests filed into the room. Jonas was the only one who noticed that as they passed that black armored guard’s left side, they were all under his assault gauss. Jonas wondered if that was intentional as he passed, with the last two blue security guards.

The Major silently snapped to attention in front of a giant wooden desk, on the thickly carpeted floor. Jonas had never seen carpet except on vid shows before. He was so busy staring at his feet sinking into the floor that he didn’t see the silent quartet of Guardsmen setting up along the exterior walls on the crosswise compass points around their procession. He also didn’t notice that the two Guardsmen who had entered with them had each taken a corner of the giant desk.

When Jonas finally looked up, his view of who was at the desk was obstructed by CEO Lowe to his front shuffling impatiently.

The Major was to the right of the desk, and the other Guardsman was to the left, as Jonas faced it. Curiously, Jonas could see two more hard-faced and armored Guardsmen flanking the seated man. As he quietly turned his head left and right Jonas could see that every single one of the black Guardsmen not only could see him, the blue security guards, and the CEO but they all had unobstructed views of all the other Guardsmen and they could probably shoot their weapons confidently without worry of hitting each other or the man they were guarding from those positions. Jonas still didn’t even know who they were there to see.

Jonas wondered if the guards could fire across each other so that they didn’t hit their fellows across the way and realized they probably could avoid shooting each other based on where they shot into the pack of visitors.

Jonas was a little unnerved by those lines of thought and looked around the room instead. He remained silent but started at his left where there were a few loose chairs against the wall. He could see no other doors to the room but as he looked again to his right, he saw the largest window he had ever seen in his life. It was easily ten meters away from the corner of the desk, but it was still enormous. That was the other thing that struck him about this room. It was huge. Everything about it was large, but not crowded or cluttered like the spaces he was used to. This room was also vaguely octagonal, the sides weren’t exactly the same length, but it was definitely not a standard ‘square’, instead it was almost rounded.

CEO Lowe shuffled again impatiently and sighed audibly.

Jonas heard a wooden creak followed by four fingers drumming three times in rapid succession on a thick report. The commanding voice that followed cut the silence, “CEO Lowe, you were required to be here in this office over forty-five minutes ago. You personally didn’t even land until thirty-two and a half minutes ago. Do not think to blame that on your subordinates here, they were in a holding pattern waiting for you at the appointed landing time. Be so kind as to allow me to catch up with my scheduled reading that you are now interrupting.”

Jonas heard a thick report slide over the desk followed by a soft wooden creak. CEO Lowe tamped his foot on the carpet but remained silent for a few minutes longer. In the silence, as the excitement wore off and the standing took him, Jonas felt the headache return accompanied by nausea. He was having trouble focusing his eyes again.

The seated man, Jonas still couldn’t see past CEO Lowe, sighed as the thick report slapped shut in his lap and he heard a desk drawer open. When the man leaned over to drop the report into the desk, Jonas got his first good look at him. He looked rugged, very strong and he looked like he was in command. When he leaned back into the chair he said, “Step aside Lowe, I want to get a good look at this trouble-maker of yours.”

The seated man leaned to his left propping his chin on his thumb, two fingers along his cheekbone and his two small fingers curled under his nose, so Lowe moved to his left also to clear the line of fire.

Jonas didn’t know the word ‘vivisected’, but had he known it he would have used it to describe what it felt like under the seated man’s eyes. He felt like the man was taking him apart piece by piece while he was still alive. Jonas just wished the headache would go away, and his nausea would stop, so he didn’t really embarrass himself by throwing up on the floor or himself.

The seated man flipped his right hand at Jonas and pulled two fingers towards himself, calling Jonas forward. He shuffled a few steps and the seated man grumbled a short groan, before looking at the Major. Without a word but a wag of his two fingers from Jonas to somewhere to the left side of the desk behind where the Major stood, the Major understood what his boss wanted.

The Major stepped around the corner of the desk, as the seated man continued to study Jonas. When the Major was in front of Jonas, he looked at the guard sergeant to Jonas’ right, “Keys for the shackles,” and waved his left hand in front of the guard requesting the item.

The guard snapped, “I will not release a prisoner without proper authorization! This is my prisoner. My bounty! I’m not handing this orphan scum over to you for you to sell to the Indent-Corp!”

Jonas didn’t like the idea of being sold to anyone for any reason.

But he had seen the calm questioning look that covered the face of the Guardsman Major before.

It was not a good thing.

The Major’s head cocked to the left, and a confused question crossed his eyes as he replayed something in his head wondering if he ‘actually’ heard it right. It was the look that a fighting dog gives the little lap dog that barks in his face and then pees on his fence before the fighting dog climbs the fence and rips the lap dog into bloody chunks. Jonas had seen that while on kitchen duty with Melina. The guards and kitchen staff watched the bootleg dog fight videos, one of the segments had been someone tossing a small yappy dog into the cage and it barked repeatedly at the big dog.

Jonas took an unconscious step back.

The step back was just enough that he could see the condescending smirk on the blue-clad security sergeant’s face.

The same smirk that the Major’s assault gauss butt stock shattered into a spray of blood and flying teeth parts. He connected solidly at the base of the jaw where it curved up into the skull. The broken teeth and blood came from the follow-through that pulverized the teeth and torqued the head around with a sickening crunch.

The Major dropped his right leg behind himself and shouldered the weapon in a combat crouch while the rest of the Guardsmen crouched also with their weapons leveled at the heads of the visitors. The blue guards hadn’t even thought to lay their hands on their weapons. They were still in shock and none had moved. CEO Lowe was stunned into an opening and closing fish mouth expression.

The first to speak was the seated man, and he sounded nothing but bored, “Are you quite done, Major?”

The Major stood from his crouch, lowered his weapon, and looked over his shoulder at his seated boss. His fellows all remained armed and ready with their targets shifting slightly as the Major moved, his squad mates shifted their aim and covered his target. He stepped forward and used his foot to prod the fallen security guard. Jonas watched as the Major’s foot slipped under the man’s chin, lifted and dropped. Something didn’t look right about the way the head fell. “I’ve got more fight left in me, Sir. But I don’t think this slaving prick is getting up again … ever. I don’t even think our health plan can patch him up again.” With a quick move, he reached down and snatched the Sergeant’s key chain.

With a heavy sigh, the seated man asked, “Major, what did I tell you about mussing my carpet again?”

At the curious question, Jonas wondered if this wasn’t the first time, before the Major answered slowly, “‘Not to, Sir’.”

Sounding only mildly annoyed at a murder right in front of him the cold-blooded seated man chastised, “Housekeeping is going to have another fit over this. I swear, you are going to deal with them this time! If that stain doesn’t come out, you’re buying me a new rug.”

The Major rolled his head violently from side to side cursing to himself as his scar showed up close to Jonas was even uglier than he saw before. It wrapped from the right tooth-line where his upper and lower molars met to under his right ear and around the back of his head. The Major huffed a few times and Jonas realized the Major was more irritated with the prospect of either buying a new rug or dealing with housekeeping than killing a man.

That was very unsettling!

The seated man sighed and shook his head as the Major patted the dead man’s pockets. The seated man spoke, “CEO Lowe, I recommend you have your guards retrieve their fallen and take themselves and their weapons out of my office before anything else unpleasant happens to them. The Home Guard reaction platoon will probably be here in a few moments, things will be smoother if any issues are readily packaged and waiting in the antechamber when they arrive.” The dismissive wave of his fingers set the three remaining blue security guards in motion before Lowe could reply.

They scooped up their sergeant, his head flopped lazily on the ruined cervical column and as they lifted his body the Major barked, “Stop trampling the stain into the carpet!” He went back to grumbling to himself while they jumped clear of the broken teeth and thin coating of blood and saliva that speckled the white carpet. He flipped his weapon down and pinned it behind himself with his right elbow when he approached Jonas.

He was mumbling something about ‘The housekeeping battleax’ and ‘Easier to replace the whole damn thing’ as he popped the locks on Jonas’ ankles than wrists. Once free of chains the Major looked him over from head to toe to make sure he hadn’t missed anything and dropped the keys on top of the shackles piled unceremoniously on the floor. The Major’s right hand slid down to the barrel of his assault gauss, while he stepped behind Jonas. His left hand crushed closed around the back of Jonas’ neck as he pushed him forward with terrifying strength and authority. While guiding Jonas into position, centered in front of the desk, he quietly spoke, “If you take one step from where I put you, I’ll put a bullet through your brain so fast you won’t even hear me move. You understand me?”

Jonas nodded in the affirmative twice. Once he was in place Jonas didn’t move.

The seated CEO asked CEO Lowe, “If my memory serves, you are in prisons, contract security, and creche educational facilities, correct?”

CEO Lowe, the consummate salesman, recovered quickly and proudly replied, “Yes, we are having a banner quarter in all of our divisions, thank you for asking. We are actually preparing for our annual shareholder’s meeting tonight. We will have quite an event if you would like to attend CEO Chroynos. I could easily accommodate you and your family at my table. I would be thrilled to have your attendance as a shareholder and prospective larger partner in our corporation.”

Phyllip had heard the pitch a thousand times from a thousand different CEOs over the years he had occupied his current office. He preferred to keep his own counsel regarding business partnerships and Lady Celine’s advice on finances and investments. The practice had served him well for two decades and there was no reason to change now. He made the excuse, “I don’t keep my calendar on this desk. I will need to check and get back to you later.” The excuse worked every time, he never told anyone outside the family and household that he kept his calendar in his head. While technically not a lie, because the calendar was not at the desk, it was also true that it was not at any desk, except the one he chose to use at any particular moment. “You’ve had a bumper quarter then? Congratulations. I’m sure your investors are going to be happy. If you don’t mind my asking what your margins last quarter in your three divisions were?”

The sleazy CEO oozed, “Certainly not, I am glad to share our good news. As I said, all our divisions are profitable this quarter. In the order you mentioned, ‘Prisons’ are making three-point-four percent, ‘Contract Security’ is making just under two percent, and ‘Creche Activities’ is yielding just under six percent, which is an industry-leading return! Creche and Prison divisions have a lot in common, so we are working on systemic improvements based on lessons learned in our Creche division for our Prisons division.”

Jonas wondered briefly if ‘Creche Activities’ included himself and his class, and why it was so similar to ‘Prisons’ that this man wanted to take lessons learned from Jonas’ class and apply them to the prisons he was saying he ran.

It took only a moment before CEO Chroynos leaned back, and offered, “Congratulations on your progress. I thought that contract security was a difficult field to compete in.”

Complaining to a peer, CEO Lowe bemoaned, “Oh, it is! It can be a nightmare; there is competition from every veteran with an honorable discharge and Central Personal Records Registry Corporation-issued weapons permit. Competition pops up routinely, and we either must buy them out or undercut their pricing. We do have nice economies of scale though so things like medical and dental coverage for our employees are cheaper than the little guys can afford.” Jonas tuned him out while Lowe rambled about his business. His headache was finally proving useful since Jonas could concentrate on that painful throbbing and swamp the tedious business discussion in pain-filled oblivion.

When CEO Chroynos spoke again Jonas cued back into the conversation. “Where were we before our little interlude, yes, I remember now.” The seated man stood and glided over the carpet. Jonas played sports, so he knew by looking at someone when they were in good shape, and this man was in excellent shape. But he was odd. He kept sliding left and right with every step like he was skating. He was also moving extra slowly. “Boy, how old are you and do you have a headache?”

Since he was the only one in the room who could possibly be considered ‘boy’ Jonas decided to answer, “I’m in the sixteen-year class, Sir. Yes, Sir, I have a headache.”

The man was so close Jonas could feel his slow breath as he looked deeply into his eyes, not into, but at his eyes. The massively muscled CEO guessed, “And nausea, you have nausea too, don’t you.”

That surprised Jonas, “Yes, Sir. I do have nausea. How do you know?”

The man laughed in Jonas’s face and turned to walk normally back to his chair, “Because you have a concussion and your eyes aren’t focusing correctly either. I have seen enough of them myself. It’s why you are swaying on your feet, you staggered trying to follow me while I approached, and you are having trouble balancing.” Once he was seated, he turned back to CEO Lowe and politely asked, “Could you please refresh my memory on this young man’s charges?”

Lowe snapped definitively, but too quickly to be totally sure of himself and not defensive, “He confessed to everything CEO Chroynos.”

Phyllip Chroynos exhaled in disgust, “Yes. So I’ve heard. Recite the charges please.”

The slimy boss standing in front of him snapped, “First there’s the graffiti of building property.”

Jonas looked over at CEO Lowe not knowing what he was talking about, CEO Chroynos answered instead, “You mean the new giant painted mural that replaced the dilapidated one that was on the wall?”

Puzzled, Lowe asked, “Yes, how did you know?”

Chroynos scoffed, “That’s simple because that ratty mural looked like hell when April pointed it out, during her interview.”

Disgusted, Lowe shared his derision, whittling down the other CEO, “You watch that dross at night? Don’t you have better things to do?”

Chroynos exhaled at the stupidity, “Of course, I have better things to do! But that one dross little reporter just so happened to have featured my daughter. So, as a parent, I put that little extra time into it to enjoy her presentations.” The other CEO looked sheepish at the sarcastic rebuke. “I doubt this boy did that ‘graffiti’ as you call it.”

Indignant, Lowe barked, “How can you say that? He confessed!”

Phyllip roared suddenly, “Look at him! He is an orphan. He has no paint on his body. He has no money to buy paint. And he has no equipment or supplies hidden on his person. And that is just the kind of thing my altruistic daughter would do for the school without telling anyone!”

Lowe spat, “But…”

CEO Chroynos interrupted, “‘But’ nothing! You have no evidence and are charging him with someone else’s act of charity and calling it ‘graffiti’. It’s a crap charge and you know it. Dismissed! Next?”

Frustrated at the prospect of this turning into a trial of his corporation and systems, CEO Lowe barked, “Vandalism.”

CEO Chroynos laughed, “What? I hope you’re not charging this kid with those crappy bleachers falling down too.”

Shocked, Lowe spat, “Well, yes!”

Baffled, Chroynos asked, “How did he do that?!” Phyllip Chroynos looked from the wiry young man back to the CEO, “This kid can’t even afford a toothbrush on his own! How in Hades’ name is he supposed to have purchased the tools to demolish those deathtraps you were seating students in?”

Flabbergasted, Lowe stammered, “Well … persistence of course!” CEO Lowe was blustering like Jonas had heard some of the class bullies do when they tried to bluff their way out of trouble. “You should see what some of the reprobates in our prison system come up with since they have nothing but time on their hands.”

Jonas made a note to himself to look up the word ‘reprobate’ since he had no idea what it meant.

Shaking his head, Chroynos corrected, “I think you can dismiss that one too. That charge doesn’t hold water either. He lives in a supervised creche! There is no way he can wander around randomly demolishing things, in all the extra hours of his day that he doesn’t actually have. Unless he magically has a thirty-hour day while the rest of us on this world operate with a twenty-four-hour day. Skip to the big charge. What is that one CEO Lowe?”

Shrugging and indignant at the demand, Lowe snapped, “Well that’s the murder charge, of course.”

While Lowe was still saying ‘Of course’ Jonas shouted “Murder! I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t even know how!”

CEO Chroynos looked from Jonas to CEO Lowe, and agreed, “He has a point there. How did he manage to murder anyone? Last I saw he was almost crushed by a collapsing bleacher and running from your administrators, and since your own records indicate that every hour of the boy’s life is accounted for before, up to, and after the moment he was caught on camera running from your people, who did he kill? And how did he kill them?”

Lowe roared, “He killed his school administrator of course!”

Jonas barked, “What! How?”

Before CEO Chroynos could reply to settle things, CEO Lowe barked, “You did it! You induced a heart attack that killed the man in his prime! You confessed to it!”

Several of the Guardsmen snickered, and CEO Chroynos glared at them to silence their shenanigans, before turning back to CEO Lowe, “How did this destitute, sixteen-year-old, child supposedly acquire the skills, materials, and training to ‘induce a heart attack’ as you are calling it?”

Bluster clipping and fading, Lowe demanded, “CEO Chroynos! What are you inferring?”

Chroynos smoothly answered, “CEO Lowe, I am inferring nothing. I want to know how it is you say that this child murdered someone by inducing a heart attack. Where’s your forensic evidence.”

The boss standing to Jonas’ front snapped, “Simple! The fright and excitement from the event of the vandalism and graffiti along with a number of other charges overwhelmed the poor man’s system and his death was wholly caused by this murderer!” The last pointed at a shocked Jonas, “And we have his ironclad recorded and signed confession!”

Several Guardsmen groaned or rolled their eyes as they figured out where their boss was going with his line of questioning.

Phyllip let it slide this time, but CEO Lowe was looking furiously around himself at the increasingly uncomfortable audience, which was feeling more and more like a hostile jury.

Phyllip leaned back as far as he could while he scratched from the bridge of his nose until it collapsed into a full hand-head massage, “So what you are telling me, CEO Lowe, is that without representation, you took the confession of an underage ward of the state, while he was mentally incapacitated with a traumatic head injury sustained during custody, in your facilities.”

Indignant, but calm fraying, Lowe shrieked, “That’s a lie! He could have received that head injury anywhere!”

Phyllip shook his head again, “So he walked off the practice field where your administrators are required by Hegemony Law, filed and certified to all the standards of Terraforming Commission dictates, agreements, and guidelines, to file injury reports on all injuries, plus the various addendum for head injuries, to minor-child state wards, but none were filed. He arrived in the custody of your security personnel healthy and magically showed up here this morning with a concussion and was hardly able to stand. Meanwhile, you based your ladder of ridiculous charges on the confession you somehow managed to squeeze out of him while he was in danger of dying from swelling of the brain. On top of that, you let him sleep without medical care which is both patient and child endangerment. Answer me this CEO Lowe, did your people screw up first, or did your people screw up second, then weasel a confession out of an incapacitated and unrepresented minor?”

Jonas’ jaw dropped.

The Guardsman to Phyllip Chroynos’ right sneezed a laugh before he could catch its escape, and immediately tried to cover himself with a delicate cough and sheepish expression, while the seated CEO glared over his shoulder at the man, and the Major grumbled a harsh warning to his subordinate, comprised of nothing but a harsh string of profanity, before returning his icy stare to CEO Lowe.

Lowe was speechless.

Lord Chroynos, Emperor of the Chroynos Stellar Hegemony, CEO of Chroynos Power Generation, and several other large, but still relatively minor, from his perspective, organizations, scratched the bridge of his nose as the full extent of the mess he suspected suddenly became a living breathing monstrosity in his office. The horrific miscarriage of justice that had played out over the evening news vids was apparently lost on CEO Lowe. As his own head started to pound Lord Chroynos was forced into his worst-case scenario after meeting this travesty wrapped in silk that was standing in front of his desk.

Phyllip Chroynos hated getting involved in moralistic crap, but Persephone, April, and Celine had shined light on this publicly, and then in turn prodded him into action. It was all just too much for Phyllip to ignore. His hand was forced.

Once Samson had pulled Persephone from the building and the two of them disappeared while April and that cameraman were chasing down the administrators running after the two children who had escaped from the falling bleachers, the interview had been dumped into the live news feeds. The ditzy, bubbly cute, and fuzzy human-interest reporter, April Nightingale had suddenly shown her claws during the intense investigative reporting that followed. She had asked a few simple questions of the three idiots who were trying to parade around with Persephone for the interview. By April’s fourth question, Celine was fuming at the dinner table. The Empress of the Chroynos Stellar Hegemony was not a pleasant dinner companion when she was fuming.

Phyllip had only thought to himself, ‘What a pack of idiots they have over there’.

Whereas Celine had realized that April’s first series of questions were a setup for the following questions. Celine did have a master’s degree in communications that included how to conduct an interview, among other things. When April had dropped the hammer on the administrators, as Celine had suspected, she had slammed her fork to the table causing the place settings to jump. Since it was a small gathering of Thomys’ wife and three girls for dinner, by now Thomys was still speeding along somewhere in space between there and Earth so he was absent, she only startled the closest friends she had with her fury. There were also no cameras or anyone there that would relay her displeasure to the outside world, other than the Major who as always was reclined impassively against a wall.

It had been Celine who pointed out that when they were talking about charging the boy with vandalism and indentured service he was a minor. April had followed that same course as her live interview was being spliced into the segments with Persephone that they had recorded prior. She had the name of the student charged, Jonas Bellicose, and had followed that to the regional detention area, which was housed in the same building where his creche was housed. After a little more digging April noticed the same holding company between the two, which led to Lowe.

The self-absorbed prick was either so focused on his numbers for his pending board meeting or his own office was as disorganized as his subordinate offices, so that no one bothered looking at, or if they did see it to mention, the unfolding public relations disaster for the Empire that was precipitating from the slurry of miscarried justice because his corporation’s actions.

When April got to investigating the practices of the ‘Contract Security’ division of Lowe’s organization, Celine was so upset she was strangling clumps of tablecloth in both hands. Celine was irritated by the cut-a-ways to the pre-recorded interview, even the ones that included Persephone. All she cared about was the next segment of the live investigation.

Once April tracked the cash flow from the ‘Indenture Service’ corporations to Lowe’s group things really came apart. Indenture Service corporations existed as a means to repay damages caused by malicious acts and account for the aggressor’s time in a standardized fashion. Which worked great, someone destroys someone else’s vehicle in an act of vandalism; the aggressor is caught, cannot, or refuses to pay and they are sent to an indent-corp to work off the repair debt. In theory, that was how it worked. April discovered in practice what they were doing was selling people to indent-corps, to recoup losses on property they should have maintained in the first place, so they took the repayment for the vandalism, and they received a bonus for enrolling a new worker in an indent-corp. They were double dipping. Lowe’s organization was falsely imprisoning people like Jonas and sending them to hard labor to pay for the mechanical failures in his corporations that were caused by their own penny-pinching maintenance budgets. By blaming others for their failed maintenance, and then selling someone to the indent-corp, they saved on the maintenance costs and collected from the labor repayments for the false damage to replace the item that failed because of their inadequate maintenance, while the corporations and individuals who collected the bounties from the indent bonus took the extra boon and pocketed it for themselves.

Everything Phyllip Chroynos had used to bludgeon Lowe regarding the boy’s charges had been a direct quote from Celine’s dinner tirade the night prior. The woman was in rare form, and there was a reason she was secluded under self-imposed guard during this meeting. She wanted to rip into Lowe with her bare hands. Phyllip was better with patiently dealing with reprehensible people before emotionlessly quartering them, so Celine passed on the opportunity to feel better herself, for the chance to destroy the corrupt system that had grown around what was once been intended as an equitable repayment practice, corrupted thanks to people like Lowe.

Persephone was shining light on all manner of corruption during her travels. Phyllip was only now getting reports of her visit months ago to a smelter operation and its woefully inadequate safety systems that while they followed the letter of the Earth standardized colonization laws, everyone’s insurance was based upon, but missed all the spirit. She had used her and the family’s status as direct shareholders with the smelter corporation and had apparently mentioned in passing the family’s controlling interest in the smelting operation’s largest customer, the ground and naval military corporations, to bludgeon them into action on her insistence.

Now Persephone just breezed past this creche debacle, her pet reporter had caught the stench and bored into the systemic rot like a self-propelled industrial mining drill. The two had managed to get it to Celine, via the broadcast investigative reporting, who with a single look browbeat Phyllip into action, ruining his Saturday morning. Because if he didn’t do something about it there would be riots in the towers and absolutely no peace at home. He was being maneuvered completely against his will on this irritating topic. Phyllip reflected for a moment on the absolutely infuriating situation.

Phyllip finished scratching the bridge of his nose and decided that he needed to stop dithering and put his worst-case-scenario plan into action. He already had his assets briefed this morning, they were standing by, and his orders were issued to the monitoring security station to relay their activation when he spoke the following rehearsed phrase. “Alright CEO Albas Precipice Lowe in a few minutes we are going to have some visitors.” CEO Lowe only used the abbreviation ‘A. P. Lowe’; no one used his first name, and most didn’t even know his middle name. He hadn’t been introduced using either today. The full name was Phyllip’s cue to dispatch his public relations department. “I’m going to make a little speech about this mess you’ve made.”

Lowe drew an infuriated breath, drawing his bluster, but his response was cut off when he turned to the door behind him as it opened. Phyllip was surprised to see Thomys stroll in carrying a stack of report folders like he owned the place. Thomys wasn’t due back for another two weeks. The two traded a whole conversation with silent hand gestures while Thomys quietly seated himself in one of the chairs against the windowless wall. On his brief stroll from the door to the chair, Phyllip’s two hands popped up questioningly while his thumbs pointed at the ceiling and Warsong far above. Thomys replied with two fingers on his free right-hand cutting by his side along his belt, telling Phyllip ‘not to ask now’.

Phyllip addressed Lowe as Thomys adjusted the report folders to his left, “So we are going to fix this little mess you made.”

Lowe barked, “I didn’t do anything of the sort! How can you accuse me of any impropriety when I had nothing to do with any of this! I was working in my office all last night preparing for our annual shareholder’s meeting! Check the records! I have a dozen people for alibis! You can’t lump me into bad business practices with a few bad apples!”

Phyllip knew this was coming. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or get angry. He settled on a calming sigh before he spoke, “Lowe, this is going to happen one way or the other. I don’t care if you are guilty as sin itself or if you are a virgin, clean and smelling of roses.” The door opened again, this time admitting a pack of neatly dressed public relations people and several Citadel vid crews, Lowe began to get a sinking feeling that he knew where this was going. “And I say ‘good for you’ if you are personally innocent of all this stuff. Unfortunately, I doubt you are clean at all.”

Lowe’s head snapped back to Phyllip from the ambling tempest forming behind him, “How can you say that!”

Phyllip groaned at the stupidity, it was a fun way of letting this particular pile of stupid know that Phyllip was about to crush it, while there was nothing they could do to escape the humiliation, “Because you you blathering idiot, you told us yourself that you are illegally using the Empire’s orphan creche system as a profit center in your faltering corporation.”

Lowe’s voice broke while protesting, “We’ve done nothing illegal!”

Phyllip’s head ticked to the left in anger and Jonas saw the same look on his face that the Major had before he smashed the skull of the guard sergeant, “Of course you have, you silk-wrapped mornic slime. The creche system is a not-for-profit operation, obligated as part of our Terraforming Commission world ownership and charter license. Cash assets from operations are to grow no more than half of a percent per year. All funds are to be reinvested into the improvement of the facilities, sustainment activities, and education of orphans. Your corporation is in violation of easily half a dozen Imperial edicts based on what you have admitted in the recorded confines of this room alone. All those Hegemony rules are based upon Earth’s settlement and management requirements.

“When we audit your corporate books, as is now required by the Terraforming Commission mandate, I suspect that we will find many more. And with that reprehensible display of maintenance,” Phyllip stood from his chair and theatrically rumbled, “Broadcast to the outrage of the Empire last night,” before he flopped easily into his wooden chair and lounged to continue, “Everyone knows you all are not only cheating on a visceral level, but you are actively attempting to profit from the hardships you deliberately inflict on orphan children.”

Lowe was stunned again.

Jonas stared questioningly at the arrogant man, who he was seeing cut down to pieces, the man who controlled so much of his fate. Through the pounding headache, he felt his jaw hanging slack, as he stared at the vile man. His amazed state popped when he realized Lord Phyllip Chroynos had spoken directly to him, “Jonas, please answer me honestly, how many students sleep in your dormitory room?”

Jonas had to think about that for a second. He didn’t know if it was actually a trick question or not. “We have around four hundred male and four hundred female students, Sir.”

The big man clenched his jaw in frustration, wrinkling his cheeks before he patronizingly asked again slowly, “No Jonas, not how many are in your class year group. I want to know how many others sleep in and share your room with you.”

Jonas had to concentrate through the headache and review what he had heard, to make sure he heard that right. Even concussed he was starting to think adults were all stupid. He answered slowly and clearly, “Sir, we live in one room. My square has seven other sixteenth-year students in bunk beds, we have five aisles of ten squares each and then the girls are next to us.”

CEO Chroynos was getting frustrated with the obstinate young man he was trying to help and sat forward in his chair, he spoke very slowly as if Jonas was a very young learning-disabled child, “And how many students share your personal room with you?”

Jonas hated being patronized no matter who it was. He leaned forward slightly in his irritation and replied forcefully, clearly, and with a level tone that hardly concealed his anger, “Seven hundred and Ninety-Nine other students,” Jonas accentuated the ridiculous ‘your personal room’ statement, “In ‘my’ room. It’s one big open room!”

Phyllip sat back suddenly as he realized he actually did envision the preposterous living conditions correctly the first time the boy spoke. When he looked back Lowe was looking down at the floor scratching behind his left ear looking like he was trying to pretend he didn’t hear any of that discourse. Chroynos shot to his feet and slammed his hand on the enormous desk, “Lowe!” All movement in the room stopped, from the camera crews to Thomys’ gently fidgeting fingers on the reports, it had been a long time since Thomys had seen his friend this angry. “In about thirty seconds I’m going to go live to the entire planet on every vid station and news feed available, you are going to be standing next to me, and I’m going to fire a very large bullet because this horrific stench isn’t going to stick to me! That bullet is going to hit a lot of people, and you can either be the first one it hits, or you can smile and agree to everything I say to avoid being ripped apart by an angry mob when you leave the protection of these walls!”

Chroynos stood straight, visibly calmed himself, and ran his hands over his suit. As he turned to face Jonas, the Major’s vice grip left hand dropped to his shoulder and steered him all the way around the back of the desk and chair to the chairs against the far wall where Thomys sat. Once there, he pointed to the one at the end of the row and Jonas sat and stayed quiet.

The seven other guardsmen in the squad formed a single close-order dressed line, with their weapons at port-arms and armor shining, while the public relations people did a quick once-over check of Phyllip. The Major leaned back against the wall and casually draped his weapon across his leg, so he could watch the public relations chaos unfold.

Suddenly the whirl of activity ended, and the people stepped back and the cameraman stepped forward, who nodded once to Phyllip. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the Chroynos Stellar Hegemony, it has come to my attention through some excellent investigative reporting last night that our independent legal system has been corrupted and abused. I am ashamed to say that there seems to have developed a culture of injustice that was exposed in its horrific entirety last night. Therefore, effective immediately, I am ordering an independent and total audit of our orphan creche system. In compliance with our colonization mandate, I am also ordering effective immediately, the termination of all payments from indent-corporations to security, contracting, and any other firms.”

Lowe’s head snapped over his right shoulder to ogle wide-eyed at what Phyllip had just said. All of it was captured on vid with the rigid Guardsmen making it even more real as a striking backdrop to CEO Chroynos while he continued, “And will further more dissolve and charge any firm that engages knowingly in the unlawful bounty practice of selling people’s forced labor for profit with slavery, subjecting all actively profiting members, employees and shareholders with imprisonment for transportation to Earth courts for trial and execution. Lastly, all cases over the last one hundred and fifty years of ‘indentured service in order to repay damages’ will be reviewed by an independent commission for veracity. In accordance with our colonization mandate, all cases of false imprisonment will either be repaid at wage rates for labors performed or the filing entity assets will be seized, and all members, employees, and shareholders will be charged with slavery.” Looking to his left Phyllip finished, “Since CEO Lowe’s corporation is the primary offender in last night’s investigative report, he has graciously volunteered to compensate and lead the audit commission at his personal expense, and report all cases to a Citadel security review.” Lowe nodded dumbly since the color had long since drained from his face and he didn’t trust his voice. Staring death at Lowe, Chroynos promised, “House Chroynos is dedicated to liberty and justice for all citizens. We will root out and destroy this corruption to its core, no matter how deep it runs in our resident subordinate corporations. Thank you all for your attention.”

The live feed was cut, and the cameraman made a hand signal indicating that they were clear. Lowe squeaked, “This will ruin us…”

Phyllip’s left hand in Lowe’s back pushed him into the waiting public relations crowd, “You should have thought of that before you got into the slaving business and sullied the reputation of my Empire. You are lucky I don’t charge you here and now, but I need someone to sort this mess out. And I swear by Hera’s beard that the only way you could possibly gain any degree of clemency is by sorting this out, to my satisfaction, so I don’t have to. Do us both the favor and save me the time and effort. Because believe me if I have to get involved in this day-to-day, the first thing I’ll do is I’ll load you and your whole organization into a slow freighter, housed like you inflict on all those kids in our creches, and launch you in the direction of Earth. Then I’ll send my people into your offices to seize your assets, catalog your accounts, and repatriate all the slaves you have been selling. When we’re done I’ll dispatch a fast courier ship with your collective slaver’s charge sheets in little bow-wrapped packages all ready for the Terraforming Commission to read and execute the lot of you! Be available when we call, which will be often from now on. Get out of my building, you reprehensible pile of…” he remembered to watch his language, “Sub-human, you are a waste of air.” With a final shove, he pushed the man into the waiting Public Relations people.

Thank You!

Thank you for reading this chapter!

Your next chapter is HERE.

If you liked what you read and you are interested in the full book the links are HERE on the Blood Debts book page…

However, if you are more interested in the narrated version, you can catch the start of your author-narrated series HERE:

Enjoy!