I.

“Lieutenant Junior Grade Lindsay, Ensign Benoit, it is UTC 6:00. Prepare for watch.” Chimed the artificial feminine voice once again. Isaac’s eyes cracked open. Still there. Trapped.

How long have I been here? Isaac thought to himself. He knew it hadn’t even been a week, but it felt like months had passed. Taking a deep breath, Isaac noticed the fuzzy feeling in the back of his mind. A notification?

Notifications… Notifications? PAD, notifications.

You have one message from Fredrick Alistair. “The video is clear of OPSEC breaches. I’ve enabled some limited communication with SATNET, so go ahead and forward that video wherever you please. Do keep in mind that everything you say is being monitored. Best of luck, Alistair.”

Isaac lunged for his discarded pants and ripped the PAD out. Signal! He immediately opened his messages, family, friends, and beloved classmates must have been flooding Isaac with a torrent of concern. Detectives and investigators are most certainly reaching out in a desperate bid to contact the missing son of the famous news magnate! How would he even begin to explain-

Inbox empty.

Isaac remembered, “Limited communication” according to Alistair. Cautiously testing this, Isaac sent a message to his wait staff on Luna.

“Hello Mr. Belle.”

A brief pause.

Sent.

Isaacs spine shivered slightly.

Read.

Bubbles appeared.

The small spheres danced slowly.

Isaacs eyes stung slightly.

“Good morning, Mr. Farrow! How may I help you, sir!”

Isaacs heart fell to the ground and shattered.

“Nothing, Mr. Belle. I was testing my new PAD out. That will be all.”

“Very good sir!”

Isaac then hurriedly switched to his group chats. Perhaps only communication with his family and staff were enabled?

The group chats were all filled to the brim with messages. Isaac opened each one. Plans to eat out, study together, memes, conversations, jokes, and gossip! Not a single mention of Isaac.

The door chimed softly. As Isaac looked up, choking back tears, the short figure of Bernie entered the room carrying another grey tray of beige food. He had a sterner look than usual.

“The fuck are you crying about?” said Bernie, scowling at Isaac.

“My…” *Hgmh* “I just got SATNET access again. Nobody noticed I was gone. No one cares about me.” Isaac replied, choking each word out.

“Hpmf.” Snorted Bernie, “Get over yourself.”

Isaac wanted to scream. His heart burned back into his chest. Who the hell was this asshole to say something so brazenly heartless!? Just as the rage pressed against the back of his lips, Isaac noticed it. The stone-cold expression was not the smiling-sneering face of yesterday.

Isaac squinted and looked closer. Bernie’s bloodshot eyes were highlighted with a flush of red and puffiness. Looking away from the piercing gaze of the short man, Isaac noticed a black splotch on his arm. A tattoo. Names? There were several names tucked partially under his sleeve, vertically oriented on the bicep. At the base of the names the words “Death to the Admiralty” stretched out horizontally. The area around the tattoo was red and swollen.

Isaac’s ego deflated some, and he quietly took the tray from Bernie.

II.

The black, matte screen of the PAD stared at Isaac. A shade of Isaacs figure could barely be seen in the endless void.

PAD, call father.

The screen lit up, a familiar shape of an ancient handheld phone appeared, and the device chirped in a soothing tone. Isaac’s spine frosted over, his heart stopped, and his stomach danced.

A face appeared. His father.

“Isaac.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Isaac froze for a moment, staring at his father. The greying man was sat at the kitchen bar of the family summer biodome, staring back into the camera mounted on the house’s wall.

“Father…”

“Isaac, you will need to make this quick. Iven’t got all day.”

“Father! I need you to listen carefully. I’ve been taking hostage! You need to report this immediately and publicly! Get your bodyguards. Hide as soon as you finish.”

“Isaac, it’s too early in the morning for some childish pran-“

“Father! Listen!” Isaac’s mind raced, commanding his PAD to send the video he had made. “Watch this. Quickly.”

Isaac’s father sighed, glanced at the PAD sitting on the tabletop next to him, and his eyes seemed to glaze over. Moments later, the old man blinked, and after a moment looked back up at wall camera.

"You have the memory hashes?”

“Yes.”

Isaac’s father whistled. The imposing figure of “The Butler” walked silently into frame. For a brief moment, the video connection cut, before reconnecting moments later. When the feed cut back in Isaac’s father was staring into his soul.

“Isaac... You’ve put me in a rather difficult situation. I’ll be frank, I’m not sure how to even begin trying to report this. I can bring attention to you, but I can guarantee it will not be nearly as helpful as you hope.” Isaac’s father sighed once again, “I’m sorry, Isaac. I will do everything I can to get this straightened out. But you’re largely on your own. Keep your head down and stay safe.”

A voice offscreen quietly chimed in, “Mr. Farrow, the runabout is prepped. Dressers are standing by near the airlock.”

“Goodbye, Isaac.”

The screen cut to black once again. The faint shade of Isaac’s form stared back at him.

III.

Isaac sat on the edge of his bunk, flicking through the feeds of several social media apps. Normally he would comment, reply to friends, and sometimes make fun of someone. Now he could do nothing but glance at a post, tap off of it, returning to the PAD home screen, open another app, then glance at a different post. He lay there, waiting, waiting for something to happen. Finally, the door chimed.

“Lunchtime!” The familiar form of Burnie walked in, his tone cheerier than before, though his face was just as stern. Burnie looked at the defeated lump laying on Isaac’s bed. He sighed, placed the tray on the desk, and grumbled, “Well now, Mr. Jackass, you really are a pathetic sight. Come on, up you go!”

“Why…” Isaac grumbled.

“Simple, you’re going for a run. Your mopey face is making me sick.” Burnie said, a small grin returning to his face.

“I don’t feel like it…” Isaac whined.

Burnie’s grin widened sadistically. He reached for his pocket and pulled out a short rod. Pressing a button, the rod shot out an arm’s length and began sparking at the end. “Wasn’t asking if you felt like it. To the left is a circular corridor. Two laps. If I catch you, I get you.”

Isaac stared, stunned. After a moment’s pause Burnie began to count, “5… 4…”

Isaac scrambled up and bolted out the door. He looked behind him to see a ridiculous sight; Burnie was speed walking backwards towards Isaac, and even gaining on him. Isaac ran harder, reaching the circular corridor and breaking right. As he swung around, he nearly crashed into crewman who moved to stop him.

“LET HIM GO! I’M RESPONSIBLE FOR HIM! MOVE!” Burnie hollered, a crazed grin on his face as he continued speeding towards Isaac. Isaac continued bolting down the corridor, the crackling of Burnie’s baton growing slightly louder by the second. Isaac’s breath burned in his mouth, his legs turned slightly rubbery, but he persisted. Looking back Isaac could see Burnie within arm’s reach, still speed-walking backwards like a maniac. Isaac redoubled his effort and ran that hardest he could, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Just as the entrance of the corridor appeared a second time, Isaac tripped.

Isaac splayed out on the floor, doing a dramatic roll as his momentum carried him forward. Coming too, he saw Burnie with the sparking baton crouching over him. The baton slowly reached for his face. Isaac closed his eyes and prepared for the pain. Instead, the crackling cut out and he felt the inactive baton briefly touch him on the nose as Burnie gleefully exclaimed, “Boop!”

Dumbfounded, Isaac opened his eyes and looked at Burnie incredulously. Burnie asked, “Still feelin sorry for yourself?”

Isaac simply puked on Burnies shoes as the stress and fear finally caught up to him.

“Well, suppose you’re not moping anymore. Hey, bet whatever you were upset about before isn’t this bad!” Burnie sighed, picked Isaac up with one hand by the scruff of Isaac’s shirt. “Come on, I got some sports mix hidden away. Suppose I owe you that at least.”

Isaac protested, but he was lead to the cafeteria and plopped down at a table full of Charlies eating and chatting. One of the Charlies a few seats down, a muscular woman, called out and asked, “Hey, you’re that kid from the ferry we snatched. What’re you doing here?”

“Got chased around by Burnie.” Isaac replied glumly.

“Chased around, eh?” The woman chuckled, “Did he run at you backwards with a baton in hand?”

“Yeah! How did you know?” Isaac asked

“So, Burnie gave you the runaround?” She mused.

“Yeah?” Isaac answered unsure of what she meant.

“Burnie gave him the runaround!” This garnered some attention from the other Charlies at the table, now listening in as she continued, “Daaamn, I remember Petty Officer Hodges giving me the runaround. He welcomed me aboard, walked us new recruits to our racks, and as soon as we dropped our bags on our bunks all of the NCOs started yelling ‘RUN!’ before the sergeant whipped out his baton and started running backwards like some maniac.”

“Why though?” Isaac asked, perplexed.

“It’s funny! It’s so ridiculous that you can’t help but laugh. Sorta is a ‘welcome aboard’ thing, I suppose.” She smirked, “Guess you’re one of us now. Fireman Chapman, pleased to meet you!”

“Isaac, it is a pleasure to meet you as well.” He replied in an almost robotic, reflexive manner.

“Isaac…” Chapman said, savoring the name, “Well Isaac, what’re you doing here? Last I heard all the captives are supposed to be confined to quarters.”

“I uhh…” Isaac hesitated, “I fell while Burnie was chasing me, then I puked on his shoes.”

The whole table burst into laughter.

“You did WHAT?!” Chapman cried out.

“Got what he deserves.” Chuckled a man at the end of the table.

“Sure gave ol’ Burnie a shoeshine!” Another said. Isaac flushed with red. However, he managed to crack a smile after a moment. What would his father think about this undignified sight?

“Well now Mr. Jackass, makin friends I see. Here’s that sports drink I owe yah.” Burnie placed the cup of violently red liquid in front of Isaac with a grin.

“OOoooOOOhhh… Shoeshine has some friends in high places now!” Said the man across from Isaac.

“Burnie when are you going to make me drinks like that?” The man at the end of the table asked sarcastically.

“When yah shove yourself in the Kessler cannon during battle.” Burnie sniped back, “Alright, Shoeshine, time to head back to your quarters.”

“See you, Isaac!” Chapman called out as Isaac got up to leave.

“Bye!” Isaac called back.