Meadows of Heaven (20/23)
Chapter 20
Normally Peter was grateful when his master turned his attentions to another sub, it meant he'd get a respite from the constant training and breaking in. It didn't always mean rest, since sometimes he was given to the guards or other nobles. Few had the same knack for torture as Master Adrian, for which Peter rejoiced.
But his reprieve meant Jensen suffered instead, and Peter knew exactly what methods his master would employ. The idea of the Oubliette made him shudder, and he hadn't been in that thing for two years. He'd spent far too much time inside before that.
He'd worried at first that Master Adrian would make him watch. That he'd have Peter kneel, naked and bound, while he broke Jensen down just as he'd broken Peter on his first day in Pasdar. Or even worse, he'd have Peter help, make him take part in the breaking. It wouldn't be the first time, and still Peter feared being called down to the lower levels.
But when he'd reported to the baths for his daily grooming, where they would undo his cage and plug, giving him scant moment of freedom in which to bathe himself, the mistress there had told him Master Adrian did not require his services. He'd had to report to the Great Hall to serve with the other subs and his ass still ached from the experience. Luckily, without Master Adrian at dinner, he managed to slip away, not having to serve anyone.
Peter had learned, by now, the best ways around the castle to avoid the guards. He stayed away from places they liked, the baths, the dining halls and some parts of the gardens. It was rare he had the free moment to himself, of course. The freedom back home had been almost a torture of its own, knowing he'd be returning to this. And it had been bittersweet as well, since he'd only gotten it after being commanded to get close to Sub Jensen.
Of course, then he hadn't know what his master planned, had reported dutifully every night. He should have known it was more than simple curiosity on Master Adrian's part. But it had been so nice to enjoy being home for once, not being glued to his master's side or made an example of in front of the other subs. Peter had not questioned why, just soaked up the sunlight he sorely missed.
Peter spent the dinner hour in the gardens, despite the rain, he curled up beneath a willow tree, the boughs of full leaves hiding him from view. He'd probably be punished for being wet and dirty when he crawled to his master's bedroom for his evening duties, but Peter didn't care at the moment. He leaned against the tree, closing his eyes at finally being able to rest for a moment.
"Peter."
His eyes snapped open, and he looked around, wondering who had found him. But when he saw the leaves undisturbed, he shook his head. Hearing things now? Peter found his eyes drifting closed again, almost as if he couldn't help himself.
"Levi."
No one called him that here, he had just broken his family of using that name. Peter doubted any of the other subs even knew his true name; it had been so long since it still belonged to him. Adrian had taken it that first day, the first of many things he had taken for his own, leaving Peter with little enough.
He must be dreaming, he thought, caught in a doze between waking and sleeping. "What?" he asked, though his lips didn't move.
"Help me," she said, and it was a woman's voice. How strange, he'd have thought to have heard Jensen, begging for his help. It was Peter's fault he'd been captured, after all.
"Who are you?"
"Come to me." And behind his eyes Peter could see the place, a door behind the throne, opening at his touch. "Tonight."
"I can't," he said, this time opening his eyes. The drops of rain continued to splatter against the leaves of the tree, but it was dark beyond that. Night had fallen with him hidden, and he crept out from his sanctuary, wincing as his balls protested the movement, caught between the device Master Adrian called the humbler. It made it so he could only be truly comfortable on his knees.
Peter hated having to wear it all the time, but mostly because Adrian didn't trust his subs not to disobey. He had to rely on devices like this. It insulted Peter's original training. But then he'd had to be completely retrained after his collaring.
As he crawled up the stone stairway, the crooked one the guards kept away from for the most part, Peter fingered his collar, remembering how he'd hoped for so much more when he went on the market. So many other subs seemed so happy with their owners. Peter couldn't remember ever feeling anything but hate. That was why he'd asked Jensen if he loved his master. Were things so different in the stars?
Peter knelt outside the door to his master's bedchamber, waiting for his summons. He expected to be chastened for the mud streaked on his calves, but really, Master Adrian would delight in another excuse to punish him.
"He's not there."
He stiffened at the voice, turning to see another sub coming down the hallway. They weren't supposed to speak to each other at all, another rule that was normally enforced with gags. Leela frequently broke the rules, though, part of why she had been chosen for Peter's use yesterday. He blushed at the sight of her.
"He's still with the new sub. You know him, he'll keep the poor sod up all night."
Peter remembered vividly. Something ached in his chest, and he nearly gaped at his own jealously. He wanted Adrian to leave him alone, and yet, he desperately wanted to be owned, to belong to someone. Despite the contract, one that Adrian ignored anyway, Peter felt cast adrift.
"You should get out of the hall before the guards do their sweep," she reminded him, not phased by his refusal to answer her. But Leela was right, the last thing he wanted was to be caught by the guards now.
"Thank you," he said, causing Leela to stare at him with wide eyes. Peter gave her a sad smile, and then turned to follow her back to their cells.
Once inside, the door would not open until morning or his master ordered it, so Peter often avoided his cell until very late. The room was hardly larger than a small bath chamber back home, just wide enough for a pallet to sleep on, with a toilet and sink in the far corner. Dark stone surrounded him, from the floor, up the very high walls, to the only window, too high for him to reach. Sometimes a shaft of sunlight would make it through, but Peter was usually out of here before that.
He slid underneath the covers, curling up tightly in defense against the devices on his body, though Peter always felt some discomfort. He'd learned to sleep despite the pain a long time ago.
And then the voice came. "Soon. Come to me."
"I can't," he told her. The door wouldn't open until morning, and he would have one hell of a time sneaking anywhere with his balls bound.
"Trust in me."
"Who are you?" he asked again.
"Harmony."
How was that possible? Peter wondered if missing dinner had caused him to hallucinate.
"I am in every home, every wall and door." Her voice seemed so far away. "Please, help me, Levi."
He opened his mouth to refuse her a third time, but something stopped him. Peter realized he wasn't dreaming anymore, that he could hear the tip tap of the rain against the window, could feel the softness of his pallet, the only comfort in his entire cell. "Why me?" he whispered, not expecting to receive an answer in his mind.
"Because you're the only worthy sub in the castle. And you need forgiveness."
As the words echoed through his head Peter felt the humbler come loose. He kicked off the covers and sat up, marveling when the cage around his cock came apart when he touched it. Peter curved his hand around his dick, shocked to touch smooth skin instead of rings of metal. It had been so long since he had control over his own body, and at any other time, he might lose himself in this, might spend the whole night playing with himself. No, Peter had a job to do.
He stood, grinning at being able to stand without pain, and walked to the entrance. The door shimmered open at his touch. Peter checked the hallway before venturing down to the nearest lift. It was a risk, since he could encounter guards there, but he put his trust in Harmony, hoping she'd divert any lift that carried anyone else.
Peter didn't know how long he had slept before the dream, but he knew it must be very late. No one was in the Great Hall, except for the two subs sleeping in their cages. He moved quickly to the throne, keeping his steps light, so as not to wake them. The wall behind the throne shimmered as soon as he got close, and Peter ran inside, relieved at having made it without catching any attention.
His relief didn't last long. The room behind the throne wasn't empty, there was a huge chair in the center, made out of gleaming silver metal, with a sub sitting straight up in it. Her arms looked soldered to the chair, like gloves encased to her wrists. Her head slumped to the side, eyes covered by goggles, and long tubes extruded from her neck. The walls were all screens, all showing different areas of the district, and several rooms within the palace.
He recognized this place, knew it as one of the secrets given to the royal families. Peter just never expected to have the privilege of entering a control room.
Peter ignored the screens, moving to the side of the girl. He touched her upper arm, so as not to startle her with his presence, but her skin was cold to the touch. "Oh Harmony," he whispered, watching the machinery retract from the body. The sub was dead, her life force drained out into this strange set up, so different from his mother's control center. Peter lifted her from the chair and stretched her out on the floor, her eyes already closed.
The hate he felt for Adrian rose up in his belly, an anger so strong Peter wanted to slam his fist against something. This wasn't right. A master shouldn't use a sub to the point of death! The role of a master was to protect and guide. And Adrian didn't know the first thing about that. He didn't deserve Peter's loyalty or his submission.
"Come." Harmony's voice again. "Before it is too late. Help me to return."
Peter eyed the chair uneasily, it had killed the girl after all. But he needed to trust Harmony. He sat in her place, the chair a warm contrast to how cold her body was. It reminded him of the warmth back home, how it emanated from everything while here in Pasdar every wall was cold to the touch. As he slid his hands on the armrest, the answer came to him - Pasdar was cold because it was cut off from Harmony. Her warmth could not reach here.
And then the connection was made, snapping inside himself, Peter threw his head back, the half-helmet covering his face and eyes. "I won't take your life, Levi," she whispered. "I just need you as a conduit." Her voice was so much stronger now, filled with life and laughter, both of which were missing here.
"How did he do it?" Peter asked her. "Cut you off from yourself?"
He could hear the distaste in her voice as she responded. "He misused the collar of the unwilling. It was meant only for lawbreakers, you understand. And then he forced those poor subs here, to power the limbs of the city, taking a role that should be mine alone. He could not push me out completely, but neither could I act."
"How many subs died for this?" Peter asked, horrified at her revelation.
"Too many," she responded. "This is not what I intended, when I remade the city. I wanted every sub to have a master like my own, to be loved as I was. There will be justice."
Peter hoped so, his throat burning for the lives lost here. It should not have happened, he thought, feeling the tears sting at his eyes. They needed to make it right.
"We will," she said. "Contact your mother, Levi, there are plans to put into place."
He closed his eyes, knowing instinctively what to do. He and Harmony had become one for the moment, and Peter felt himself expand, stretching out to encompass the entire city. No man could split that far, could have his consciousness spread out to the far corners of the city, not for long and live. It was Harmony who carried him, and Peter held on tightly as he made the connection.
"Mother?"
***
Jeff pulled his boots on when he got inside the lift, not wanting to waste precious time when he could be sprinting down the hall. He felt discombobulated, his uniform rumpled, his belt shifted off to the side, missing some of the pouches he'd normally have off-ship. He ran a hand through his hair, knowing it was standing up in patches, but he wasn't about to take the time to wet it down. Not when he could be close to finding Jensen.
When he got to the Great Hall it seemed that everyone had gotten the memo except him. The queen sat in a padded armchair, surrounded by Fredric, Alona and her sub, Colin, Guard Ian and Major Tappen of all people. Gyllenhaal, Chikezie and Whitfield were in a group to the side, all of them staring up at the large floating screen in the center of the room. Jeff looked up and boggled at seeing Peter staring at them.
"What the hell is going on here?" he finally asked, getting everyone's attention.
"Sir," Gyllenhaal began, "Not too long ago the bio scanner began to react. I contacted Lieutenant Chikezie first, since she is the expert on using biorhythms."
"And we found that it wasn’t picking up the biorhythms. It had found the tracer," Chikezie put in. "Only we weren't familiar enough with the city to know the location."
"When they contacted me." The queen took up the story. Jeff felt like he was watching a tennis match, his head darting from face to face. "I was on my way down when I received a tele from Peter."
Jeff looked up at the floating image of the ex-prince. "Well, are you going to take up the story now?"
"Commander," Peter said, his brow pinched and furrowed. "I'm sorry. Jensen is here, in Pasdar castle. Duke Adrian took him against his will. With my help."
"So, what, you've gotten an attack of conscience now?" Jeff snapped. "Do you think by telling us where he is that makes it all better?"
"No," Peter shook his head, and Jeff thought he saw tears in those eyes. "Nothing I can do will make it better, not with what Adrian's done. But I couldn't do anything before, not until Harmony made it possible for me to contact you. Mother, he's violated her laws, made a mockery of submission and our core values. He's been killing subs to do so."
The queen stood, her hands clenched into fists. "We will stop him."
Peter looked off into the distance, his eyes going unfocused for a moment. "Harmony says if you come quickly, she can hold all the doms in their bedchambers. Make it so the doors won't open. You can take the castle."
"And where is Jensen?" Jeff asked, fearing the answer.
"With Duke Adrian," Peter said, voice dropping. "In one of his dungeons."
"So locking him in with Jensen isn't going to do Jensen much good," Jeff snapped, vibrating with the need to do something, fast.
"Which is why you must come quickly," Peter said.
There was no time to marshal his forces, to get the people he wanted from base camp to the town and briefed on the situation. He'd have to depend on the queen. Jeff turned, knowing the look on his face had to be pleading.
"I will summon all the guards," she stated. "We will depart from the gold platform within the hour."
"We?" Jeff asked.
Michelle turned to face him. "I am coming with you. This is a crime of high treason in my city. It will not go unpunished."
Jeff nodded. He pitied anyone who went up against the queen.
***
Maggie resisted the urge to double-check her regulation sidearm yet again. Their weapons had been returned to them just before boarding the trams that would take them to war. Hers felt heavy in its holster, reminding Maggie that she was going far out of her area of expertise. It had been a while since she had to worry about entering combat directly.
Of course, her weapon looked tiny and wimpy next to the tall spears the guards carried as they lined up, ready to board the trams. The queen walked among them, looking amazing in gold plated armor, like some warrior from an old 2D sci-fi movie. Maggie would not want to go up against her in a fight. The guards seemed on edge, and her presence calmed the ranks. Maggie wondered what the queen said as she walked by.
She caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned to see Major Tappen join the ranks, dressed in a uniform identical to that of the guards, although he was the only one in a collar. He walked up to another guard and grinned at him. Maggie edged closer to hear them.
"Don't make me regret this, Henry," the guard sighed. "By all rights I should send you back to our rooms."
"Hah, you already gave permission, you can't take it back!" Tappen all but vibrated as he spoke, looking eager for action. He was, Maggie remembered, assigned to the Ground Corps. Hand to hand combat wouldn't be out of the norm for him at all.
To her surprise, he leaned forward and curved his hands around the other man's face, holding them forehead to forehead as he whispered, "Ian, trust me, I've probably seen more combat in the last year than you have your entire life. If anything I should be worried about you."
Maggie turned away, feeling more than a little embarrassed at having eavesdropped. That was a private moment. Though it did make her reconsider her earlier assessment of Major Tappen. He had seemed bitter at being 'sold' as part of the treaty, but he apparently got along with his master just fine. Maybe, she thought, it was more because the choice had been robbed from him before he could decide to stay. What an awkward way to begin a relationship! She sighed, not like she understood how they did things here.
"You ready, Gyllenhaal?" Whitfield said, coming up behind her with Chikezie, who had slung a medic bag over her shoulder. "When's the last time you've seen any action anyway?"
"Got caught in the crossfire while repairing the shields on station 1089, bout two years ago now," she told him, rubbing her shoulder as she spoke. Sometimes Maggie could still feel the laser burn.
Whitfield winced and looked slightly abashed. She wondered when the last time he'd seen combat.
"All right people," Morgan said, gathering the three of them. "You're with me. Our objective is to retrieve Lieutenant Ackles. The queen's guards will be taking care of Adrian and any men he'll have with him. We'll have a squad of them with us, but you all listen to my orders first."
"Yes, sir," they responded.
Morgan led them to their tram, along with the guards, including Tappen and his master. Maggie tried not to stare, but they were actually beautiful together, Tappen with his golden hair and open smile, and Ian with his dark curls and intense brow. They complimented each other. Huh, she thought, she might make sense of this planet after all.
The trams all took off together, although they lacked the same order as UP shuttles, springing up like insects at a picnic. Maggie felt a lurch in her stomach, the odd disconnect of seeing that she was moving, but not feeling it.
One of those weird screens popped into existence in the middle of the tram, the queen's face appearing on one side, the other having the man who Morgan called Peter on the other. "Peter has mapped out where each of the trams will land," the queen said. His face disappeared to reveal a complicated looking map. "We will subdue any guards we find. All prisoners will be taken to the castle's throne room, where Peter will meet us. Assume any subs you find will be hostile at first. Most wear the collar of the unwilling."
There were gasps from the guards, and Maggie looked over curious. She'd have to ask later what that meant.
"Commander Morgan," the queen went on, "Will rescue Sub Jensen. Since we know Duke Adrian is with him you are permitted to use lethal force if needed. If not, I'd prefer to bring the man to trial for the evils he has committed."
"I will do my best," Morgan told her.
As the screens winked out of existence, Morgan stood at the head of the tram. "Listen up. Your people," he turned to one of the guards, most likely the leader of them by the larger epaulettes on his shoulder. "Should clear the way for us. Take down Adrian for all I care, but me and my people are going straight for Jensen."
The leader nodded at Morgan. She stood and began discussing strategy with the rest of the guards, going over the expected layout of the castle and where they were landing. The dungeon looked to be underground on the map, so they were landing on the ground floor and fighting their way down. Maggie watched as the map appeared again, and narrowed her eyes, trying to memorize the path the guard had chosen. They had to be prepared for anything.
Jensen's life depended on them. She hoped they could do this, a patched together team that had never worked together before, under two separate commanders. Maggie touched her sidearm again, reassuring herself with its presence. It was no fancy staff, but all she needed was one clear shot. Hold on, Ackles, she thought, we're coming.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Epilogue