Origins (19 page)

“Stop,” Hastelloy interrupted.  “Tomal is not to be touched.  Killing him will just send the traitor back to the Nexus and into another body away from our influence.  I am not sure what to do with him yet, but my temper and hasty actions directly led to my condition.  I’m not about to act rashly again and make matters worse for the mission.  He’s not to be touched, under any circumstance.  Is that clear?”

Tonwen and Valnor submitted their affirmative replies, but Gallono stood silent.

“I will have your obedience on this order, Gallono.  Nothing will be gained going after him without a plan.  Don’t worry; his day of reckoning will come.”

“If I have your word that I will personally be allowed to deal with his treachery in the future, then you have my word he will not be touched by me until you give the order.”

Hastelloy nodded his head in agreement.  “Now get to work you three.  You’ve got better things to do than to lay around on the floor all day.”

**********

Dr. Holmes stopped writing in his notes and tapped the end of his pen against his teeth.  For the first time since he started working with the patient, Hastelloy revealed mistakes he made and openly admitted to weaknesses and insecurities.  The fact that these revelations corresponded with this Mosa character entering his story was not a coincidence. Could Hastelloy’s delusions be as simple as his mind setting up a mental defense over a woman?

“This Mosa woman sure sounds intriguing.  It looks like she figured you out right away,” Dr. Holmes prodded.  “She saw through to the real you.  She even related to you in your own language.  In a way I guess we all have our own language that needs translating by someone.”

Hastelloy looked down at the floor with the playful look of a toddler caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  “She was a remarkable woman, though we haven’t been very kind to her memory.  She deserved better than she got.”

Now we’re getting somewhere Dr. Holmes thought to himself as Hastelloy continued telling his tale.

Chapter 27:  Rag
e

Hastelloy gingerly stepped
out of his tent for the first time in five days.  His legs were stiff and the scabs across his back pulled a bit, but it felt good to step into the evening air.  It was just past sunset, and the temperature of the desert was plummeting quickly.  He grabbed a blanket off the top of a pile recently delivered by the soldiers and gingerly draped it over his shoulders for warmth.

He looked to his left and saw the line to the food distribution center was growing shorter.  Off to his right he heard music playing and people laughing in the distance.  Hastelloy did an about face to tie down the flap to his tent.  As he worked the strings together he thought: food, clothing, shelter, laughter and music in the background.  What more could these people want from their lives.  Mosa was wrong.

He walked to his left, identified the shortest food line and took his place at the back.  He gave a courteous nod to the man in front of him who in turn regarded him with a look of pity.  Hastelloy and his men were already fairly well known by their neighbors as the ones who spoke a funny language and could not speak their own.  Now he had the added distinction of being the beating victim.  He was not the only slave to be whipped that day, but the severity of it made the gossip circuit rather quickly.

The man cocked his head to the side, pointed with his hands to his own back and then opened his arms out wide palms up and shrugged his shoulders.  Hastelloy took the display as the man asking how his back felt.  Hastelloy gave a shallow smile and two thumbs pointed up.  The man nodded and turned around to face frontward again.

Considering the conversation closed, Hastelloy focused his attention on the other lines to determine if he indeed chose the quickest line.  Of the three, his was the shortest, but the one in the middle appeared to move at a quicker pace.  The line on the far right was stopped completely.  Counting his blessings he wasn’t in that one he began to close his eyes and wait patiently when a subtle activity at the front of the third line captured his attention.

A family of six: a male, an attractive female, and four offspring were at the head of the line.  A guard distributing bowls of stew stood with his arms folded across his chest, looking directly at the female.  The male gave an affirmative nod while he looked straight down at his feet.  With that motion, the food distributor handed his ladle to the male, grabbed the female by the arm and ushered her behind a row of tents.

There must have been a large campfire roaring on the other side of the tents because while Hastelloy couldn’t see the guard and woman directly, their shadows were cast against the tent.  The guard stripped the woman bare and forced her to bend over and grab the tent pole in front of her.  The guard then proceeded to have his way with her. 

This was not like the tender procreation ritual his crew witnessed while captives of the slave traders.  This was violent and disgusting.  The only one deriving any pleasure from the act was the guard.  The woman appeared to be in utter agony, which was reinforced by the occasional screams Hastelloy heard coming from that direction.

Anger filled Hastelloy’s heart and the impulse to do something about it nearly overtook him.  Hastelloy looked anxiously at her mate with an anguished glance that insisted the man must do something about the violation of his loved one.  Hastelloy’s heart sank as he watched the poor man busy himself and the offspring with filling their food bowls. 

Soon the muffled screaming and grunting stopped and the guard returned with a vile smirk.  The female staggered back to her family looking rather dazed and wounded.  The three oldest children each carried two bowls, while the male put his arm around the female and gave her support as she tried to walk back to their tent.  Not a word or even a glance was exchanged between the two.  They both understood the situation and the sacrifice that needed to be made for the greater good of their family.  The nobility and honor the pair displayed was simply breathtaking.

Suddenly not feeling the least bit hungry, Hastelloy left the line and walked toward the music and laughter he heard earlier.  As the joyous sound grew louder he hoped the festivities would draw his mind away from what he just witnessed.

He emerged from an alleyway onto the main tho
roughfare to see a band of flutes, drums, and various stringed instruments playing.  The musicians in the band looked as if an executioner was standing over them.  Hastelloy surveyed the exuberant crowd and was disturbed to realize they were all soldiers with slave girls at their sides or sitting on their laps.

Each of the comfort women carried hollow stares as they endured the soldiers fondling them at will.  One woman returned to a table carrying a tray full of drinks.  A soldier grabbed her by the crotch causing the maiden to spill the drinks down the front of her dress.  The men seated around the table erupted with laughter.

The soldier who did the grabbing stood up and proceeded to taunt the poor girl about her wet clothing.  To remedy the issue, the soldier drew his sword and cut away the woman’s clothing.  The men seated around the table howled and rooted for their man while the women seated on their laps tried to look away.

The sight of a naked female suddenly excited the soldier.  He spun her around and forced her over the table top and raped her from behind.  The cheering section exploded with excitement.  Soon each man around the table followed the example with his own woman.

All around the room the laughter and cheering continued while the band dutifully played their tunes.  It all was too much.

Hastelloy’s rage took over his
finely tuned self-control.  He marched back to the food line area with hatred in his heart and the need for action on his mind.  He grabbed a pail of water and extinguished the campfire, and then took a concealed position behind the rape tent and waited.

It didn’t take long for a guard to identify another victim.  The guard pulled aside a lovely young woman and made his way around the corner, and into Hastelloy’s waiting arms.  Out of the darkness he delivered a swift punch to the throat; crushing the rapist’s windpipe.  No more grunts or sounds of any kind would be forthcoming from him.  Hastelloy then delivered three knee thrusts directly to the man’s groin.

Hastelloy would have loved to drag out the bastard’s demise but he needed to make it quick.  He grabbed the man around his throat, pulled him in close so their noses almost touched.  He looked straight into his victim’s eyes and he squeezed.

The man’s jaw slowly dropped open and the look of sheer terror filled his face.  Once life completely left the rapist’s body, Hastelloy released his grip and the lifeless form flopped to the ground.

During the ten seconds it took Hastelloy to commit his murder, the female did nothing.  She attempted to speak finally, but Hastelloy knew his time was short.  He took the stunned woman’s arm and escorted her back to the food line.  The raping ritual was apparently nothing new as Hastelloy returning with the woman drew no attention from the other guards. 

When he reached the food table, he calmly grabbed the ladle, filled a bowl for himself, and walked off through the crowd still waiting their turns in line.  Without a glance toward the woman he just saved, Hastelloy navigated a roundabout way back to his tent.  He entered and took a seat on the floor next to Gallono. 

“How was your walk,” Gallono enquired.  “I’ll bet it felt good to get out and finally do something.”

“You have no idea my friend,” Hastelloy responded, still struggling to contain the raging barbarian still loose in his mind.

**********

Dr. Holmes watched as Hastelloy took a break from his story to compose himself.  He would allow the issue to come to the surface on its own time table, but Jeffrey was quite certain either the patient’s wife or daughter was brutally raped in much the same way as the women in his story.

As a helpless victim of the situation, Hastelloy probably did nothing.  Instead, he created in his mind this scenario of being the hero and making things right.  Dr. Holmes waited patiently and regarded Hastelloy with great sympathy and pity.

Chapter 28:  Making Things Right

“
Basically, you’re telling
me you broke the law,” Professor Russell challenged.

“I corrected a mistake.  A person was wronged and I set it right,” Alex rebutted.

The two paralyzed individuals had been arguing the virtues of Alex’s break in of the university server room for hours since Dr. Andre left to find help.  The two were getting pretty good at talking without the benefit of moving their lips.  There was still the occasional misinterpretation like ‘you’re uptight’ versus ‘you’re right,’ but it was manageable.

“Two wrongs don’t make a right.  You can’t rationalize it.  You broke into private property and altered a data file owned by the university.”

“I agree, the act itself was illegal, but the objective and end result was good and decent.  My brother was a straight A student in high school.  He’s as smart as they come and his admission application was rejected because of a low reading score on the entrance exam.”

“You changed the results of a fairly taken test.  If his score wasn’t good enough to get in, then those are the breaks.  Your actions stole his admission slot from someone who did score well taking the same test.”

“Jeremy is dyslexic Professor.  It takes him three times as long to read things as most people.  If you saw his test results on the reading section you’d see he scored perfect on the first half and then he ran out of time and just went with option C for the rest.”

“Smart kid, going with C; on a four option multiple choice exam, C will be correct more than half the time,” Professor Russell added.

“You better believe it.  He earned his PhD in astrophysics and now works for NASA.  If I didn’t alter his admissions file he would probably be a high school gym teacher, instead he launches rockets into space.”

“So, in your mind, the ends justify the means?” the professor asked.

“Damn right.”

“What about the person
whose admission slot he stole? Maybe he would’ve done something great with his education but is now a gym teacher because of you?  It’s a zero sum game here, Alex; your brother benefited from someone else’s loss.”

“I probably saved the university from yet another freshman who burns out partying and flunks out.  I will say this though; Jeremy’s performance would be a tough act to follow.  All in all, I’d say the greater good of mankind was served by my actions.  Besides, it doesn’t really matter.  This all happened a long time ago.”

“The pyramids, the Sphinx, and the room behind that door were made a long time ago too.  They still matter a great deal.  Like a stone thrown into a lake, our actions make ripples in every direction that last for eternity.  The only difference is what size stone gets thrown.”

“Well, I threw a speck of sand in the lake of time; the pyramids, sphinx and that room were boulders the size of Mt. Everest by comparison.”

Professor Russell began hearing the faint sound of labored breathing coming up the ladder.  It was finally time to conclude the discussion.  “Those standardized tests are a load of bollocks anyway.  I’ll take someone successful in real life over a stand out test taker any day of the week and twice on Sunday.”

“You let me go on like that for two hours when you agreed with me from the start?” Alex grunted.

“Passed the time didn’t it?” Professor Russell teased.  “Help has arrived, I think.”

“Hello . . .   Dr. Andre . . .  Frank is that you,” Alex called.

“Good lord, girl, sounds like you got a wad of cotton in your mouth,” Frank bellowed back.  “I can’t make out a word you’re saying.  Never fear though, help has arrived.”

“Took you long enough,” Professor Russell added.  “Did you stop for some coffee or take in a movie along the way?”

“Aye, you try carefully lowering four large mirrors down a three hundred foot shaft without breaking them,” Frank protested.  “Oh, and no need to come over and help me hoist the god awful heavy things back up now; it’s not like I’m tired or anything.”

“I wouldn’t, even if I could move at the moment,” the professor teased.