Rise the Renegade (Rork Sollix Book 1) (7 page)

Rork stood up, dusted himself off and examined his lone cellmate. The man sat cross-legged on the cold concrete, his eyes closed, facing toward the door. His ragged, cinnamon skin and bushy aluminum-colored beard gave the appearance of aged youth. Yellow flowers, arranged chaotically, encircled him and on the wall behind him a luminescent orange sunrise gave off dimmed hope.

The hallway lights came on, burning bright.

Rork turned away and covered his eyes. The neck ring pulsed hot. It tightened.

“Do not look into the light that is too bright for you,” the old man said. He giggled like a toddler with a new pet.

A dull headache took root in Rork’s temples and that electric charge stirred in him. He coughed. He needed those meds. “What?”

The old man smiled and bobbed his head from side to side like an Alzheimers patient. “You have looked too brightly into the lights, big lights, and now they burn you. Is that not right?”

Does he know me?

Behind him, thin metal rattled with a watery echo. Rork turned. A white, plastic cart floated by, rounded white lights on the bottom of it casting a pure light in sharp diagonals around him. A guard walked behind it.

“Eat purely and your being shall be pure,” the old man said. “But eat this crap and it really wears you down, man.” He giggled.

Rork looked down at the floor. Two dented and scarred metal bowls sat on the uneven floor. There was something in them. Foamy and gray, something twig-like stuck out of each one. He locked eyes with the old man. “Don’t tell me that’s supposed to be food?”

“What is and what is not — this is a question only the observer can decide for himself. Please bring one bowl to me, Captain Rork.”

Rork went to one knee to pick up the bowls and carried them over to the old man. They were ice cold, fresh out of refrigeration. He handed one bowl over and smelled the other. It gave off a thick farm odor, a vomit-worthy haze of cut grass, cow manure and pesticides. He returned his to the door.

“Are they going to issue me some clothes?” Rork asked.

The old man held the bowl up to his mouth with one hand and clipped his nose shut with the other. He poured the noxious stew down his throat in one swift move.

The lights clicked off and a metal door screeched, then slammed closed. The echo bounced around before silence returned.

“How do you know my name?”

The old man wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shuddered, then burped. He gestured for Rork to return his bowl and Rork complied.

“The spirit requires not of material comforts but the body requires sustenance.”

“I don’t speak in riddles, old man.”

The old man giggled. “Nor do I! May I have your bowl, if you do not plan to eat it?”

Rork grabbed it and brought it over to the man.

The old man reached for it and Rork raised it higher.

“Answers.”

The old man sighed. “The right question is infinitely more valuable than all the answers in the universe.”

Rork snorted. “You are?”

“I am Zero. Some wish me to accept titles, but I cannot.” He reached for the bowl.

“Like the number?”

“Or non-number, depending on your perspective!” Zero giggled.

Rork held the bowl higher. His stomach rumbled but he wouldn’t eat this slop. “How do you know me?”

Zero spread his arms and looked from side to side. “We all know the story of Rork Sollix, the unstoppable pirate. You are very well received among my people.”

“Your people?”

“Just people: regulars, put-upons, those bound, slop-eaters, miners, slaves, prisoners.”
 

Rork handed him the bowl and he downed it just as before. Rork returned the empty container to the space under the door.

“Take my life, you may, Rork Sollix, but to possess my spirit, a harder labor is.”

Rork hugged his arms to himself and rubbed his hands against the opposing biceps. “How about some clothes here, guard!”

“No, no, no. Violence will not get you want you want.”

“What violence? And why would I take your life?” Rork brought a knee up and into his chest, then the other, jogging in place.

“Comfort is a state of mind. Adapt your feelings to your surroundings and you will—”

“Enough!” Rork buried his head in his hands.
I’ll just escape. It’s that simple.
He replayed the entry procedure in his mind. If he could escape and enter at will in space, he could do it on Earth.

One man can do anything. One man, among many. The idea popped into his mind. Among so many, there must be at least one with years spent planning an escape. Rork need only find that man. He would provide the escape plan. He would know the vulnerabilities. Rork would provide the final exit to space. He opened his eyes, a new confidence giving bounce to his muscles.

Zero appeared at Rork’s side, a pair of orange pants folded neatly in his outstretched hand.

Rork stepped away from him. “What? No. I have nothing to trade.”

“You will simply be in my debt. Everyone here is in debt, to Barbary or other Cartel members. That’s why we are here. What is one more?” He set the pants on Rork’s shoulder.

Rork grabbed them and shook them. Specks of dust fell out and moved on the floor. He tossed the pants back. “No, thanks! I came in clean. I’m going out clean.”

Zero caught his pants and put them back on. He returned to his perch, crossed his legs and closed his eyes.

“Why are you here?” Rork asked.

“Time to recharge the soul, young pirate.”

“How did you get all these flowers in here?”

Zero cracked an eye, a look of irritation on his face. “Young man, I do not wish to be disturbed during my spiritual retreat. If you require this much attention, I will be obligated to recommend your transfer to the children’s cell.”

“There are children in here?”

Zero pointed straight ahead.

Rork went to the cell door and stared into the cell across from his. There was nothing. It was too dark. His eyes became accustomed and he saw bodies. Small bodies. Many sat, against the walls, between, backs resting against each other and a few standing and walking.

The metal door screeched open.

“Get your hands off of my sister!”

A girl sobbed.

Rork’s heart leapt.
If only it was Lala. No matter how horrible it is here, at least she would be here with me and away from Barbary.
He gritted his teeth and his stomach turned. Stomach acid rose to the back of his throat.
You will suffer, Barbary.
He jammed an eye through the bars.

Devi appeared followed by Anju. The guard held them each by their necks. They wore the throat collars, too, but had orange shirts, pants and slippers.

“How about my clothes!” Rork yelled.

The pot-bellied keeper opened the cell across from Rork and pushed the siblings in. He locked the door behind them.

“My clothes, man! And I need meds!”

“Too dangerous for clothes,” the guard said without pausing.

Devi and Anju stood in the doorway, pressed up against the bars. There was simply no space in the cell.

“They will ship us out the day after tomorrow, all of us, all of these children. What is our plan?” Devi asked.

Zero appeared next to Rork and Rork stepped aside, surprised.

“No escape for you two,” Zero said, pointing a long finger at Devi. “You will pass your short lives as slaves among rocks in the void, without hope or reprieve.” He turned to Rork and nodded. “And you, not much longer to live do you have.”

“I
DO
not like you. You are not like your legend,” Zero said.

Rork and Zero stood in a far corner on the roof of the prison. Below them was more concrete. Around and above them, interlaced steel gate and barbed wire shut out the sky. Hundreds more prisoners milled about the open space.

Rork turned to Zero and put his index finger in the emaciated man’s face. “I’m getting out of here, old man. Now. And not when I’m weak and thin like you.”

“At least I have pants on.” Zero giggled.

Rork tried to cross his arms but the restraints would only permit him to cross his wrists. He let them hang in front of him again. The warm morning sun pierced the steel fog for a moment and his back warmed. He turned himself around awkwardly, the ankle restraints clinking as he moved. Spacecraft rose from the port mere kilometers from his cage. He sighed and imagined himself rising in one of them.
Space is freedom.

“Who here most wants to escape?” Rork looked at Zero.

“Only the one who endures is worthy of escape.”

“Enough with the riddles! Who has been here the longest?”

“I am the longest sufferer.”

Rork rolled his eyes. “The guards treat you like a god. You don’t suffer in here.”

“Indeed, I do not.”

“You just contradicted yourself.”

“Contradiction is in the eye of the beholder.” Zero looked at him out of the corner of his eye and giggled like a toddler again.

“Are you ever serious?”

“Where is the joy in that?”

“Where’s the joy in here?”

“Where is the joy out there?” Zero asked.

“Oh, there’s plenty. But you won’t find my kind of fun meditating in your monastery.”

“Nor will you find mine gallivanting out there like a mad man.”

Rork crossed his arms. “Do you have anything to add to this escape?”

The mystic scrunched his eyes shut and his head twitched from side to side as if he was having a seizure.

Rork rushed to catch him.

The mystic stopped, opened his eyes and grinned, his ivory choppers bright. “I just received a vision. You will be the first man to colonize a new solar system.”

“You just said I was about to die!” Rork waddled away in disgust. “Let me know when you’re ready to deal. You know something. You want out of here, just like everyone else. And I can get you off the planet.”

On the other side of the roof, the kids ran in circles, yelling and jumping. A few sat and stood around the edges of their group. Two guards circled the mass of kicking, screaming and even sometimes laughing stick figures.

Anju and Devi sat together, their backs against the fenced wall perpendicular to Rork’s and talked. The pot-bellied guard who refused to clothe Rork approached them. He grabbed Anju’s long locks of neatly combed hair in his ham fist and hauled her up to her feet.

Anju screamed.

Devi stood up fast, took a step towards the portly guard, then retreated. “Let her go!”

The guard pulled Anju toward the exit. He held her hair close to the scalp at waist height. She marched along behind him, hunched over, her eyes wide. She turned her head toward Rork and the guard jerked her back towards him.

“Rush not into a quarrel not your own, lest you be considered a busybody.” Zero studied Rork under lowered eyelids. “Especially with Jelara.”

“Hey! Fat man! Jelara!” Rork waddled towards the guard, his unkempt hair flapping in his face.

Jelara scowled in his direction. He pulled a card from his pocket and walked faster.

Rork changed direction toward the door, run-jumping now, his chains clinking lightly between his legs. “I’m talking to you, Gutbuster!”

Anju scratched at Jelara’s hand. She grabbed his wrist in her two hands and tried to pull him back but he jerked her hair. She screamed, her mouth wide open. “Help me!”

Devi ran after his sister but hesitated. He turned around and ran again. He grabbed the guard’s shoulder.

Jelara turned in a heartbeat and punched Devi in the nose. Devi’s knees buckled and he hit the concrete.

Jelara glanced at Rork. He reached the door and swiped his card. He pushed through the door.

Rork launched himself through the door and grabbed Jelara’s belt with the tips of his fingers. Rork’s elbows hit the cement. The impact vibrated his funny bone and his grip loosened. He looked back. “Zero!”

Jelara crumpled to the floor like a drunk gorilla. He let go of Anju. She jumped over Rork and ran back into the yard, her face contorted, her hair sticking up on all sides, like a black crown of stars.

Really? Alone in the fight again. Lala would help me.
Rork pulled himself to his knees but the guard was faster.

Jelara rolled to his feet and pulled out his nightstick. He smacked Rork across the shoulder. Rork bounced with the blow. The next one came too fast. Rork fell to his side. Jelara hit him again.

Rork lay on his side on the rough cement. Shaped shades of light registered on his eyes. Sounds vibrated his eardrums. But he felt nothing and his mind processed none of it, not even the passing time.

Frigid liquid washed over Rork’s head and down his back. He drew in breath, his neck arched backwards. He found himself on all fours in the murk, a sliver of dull light escaping under a closing door.

Back in the cage.
He sighed. “What the hell, Zero?” He shook his head and water droplets arced across the cell. “How long have I been out, anyway?” He rose to a knee.

The knee refused to rise. A chain clanked. He tried the other leg. He moved his arm. More clanking but rise he could not.

“What the hell!”

From far away, screams reached him, high-pitched wails and cries of outrage. More voices joined the cacophony.

A slot in the door slid open. Heavy breathing came from behind it.

“You only made it easier for me, 93478921,” Jelara said. “You gave me footing for separating all the children into the hole. Especially the girls. And I found some tasty ones.” He made a slurping noise and closed the slot.

“Jelara!” Rork tore at his chains. “Jelara!”

R
ORK
JERKED
his left arm and the chain jingled. This time, however, a light scraping of metal against rock accompanied the playful sound. Rork did it again. The sound was there. He didn’t imagine it.

Black steel cuffs encircled his wrists. These connected to the jingling chain and the chain, in turn, gained its stopping power through a rusting baseplate anchored in the concrete floor.

But someone skimped on the baseplate. And now it was loose.

Sweat dripped from Rork’s forehead and onto the dusty floor. He was getting out of here now and that was that.