Chapter Twenty Three

When Benediction and his followers arrived back at the Breastplate of Loki, Iona had been there for twenty-four hours. Gage had not lied to her and her exposed skin was raw with chemical burns.

When the clocks on the stakes expired, the cuffs holding down her arms and legs released and she immediately brought her knees to her chest.

Benediction crouched in front of her. “Gage was here?”

She nodded, the tears she’d shed had long since dried up and now she didn’t know what to do. She turned onto her knees and crawled toward the crack. Hesitantly, she put her head over the hole and looked down.

“He fell down there?” Benediction said, focusing his gaze down the fissure.

Iona adjusted herself so her feet were falling over the edge of the chasm. She put her weight on her palms and lifted her bottom.

Benediction jumped on her and pulled her onto her back. “What are you doing?”

“You guys were so into me dying a few hours ago!” She tried to holler, but her throat was too dry so she sounded like a garbage monster.

“Look,” Benediction said. His blue eyes flashed exactly like Gage’s. “If he fell down there, he’s dead.”

Iona started crying again. Her dry lips split and bled as she contorted her mouth in pain.

“Hardly anyone lives on the surface of Io. No one lives underground on Io. He’s been crushed and there is no point trying for any kind of rescue mission.”

Iona screamed and, this time, she managed it.

Cool-headed, Benediction grabbed her by the crooks of both her elbows. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Instead of the gag and braces that had been used to transport her to the foot of the volcano, Benediction asked for something else and in the next moment, she was tied into a straight jacket that was made of fur. Fluff?

“What is this?” she croaked.

None of them listened to her as they bundled her off on the helocarrier. The last time she rode on it, she had been put on the back bench. This time she was in the second row and she overheard Benediction’s conversation with the pilot.

“Did you find any clues in the helocarrier?” Benediction asked, sounding exactly like Gage.

“The shovel is missing from the survival kit. Someone got into two bottles of water,” the pilot replied.

“What about under the hood?”

“Gage rebuilt the engine. It was sound. Does that mean you want me to tow it back to the Tranquility Mansion?”

Benediction shook his head. “No. Let’s leave it here.”

“You told her he’s dead. Why would you leave a working helocarrier here if he’s dead?”

He didn’t answer the pilot exactly. Instead, he asked, “Is it set to hover if there’s any more seismic activity?”

The pilot shook his head in the negative.

“Turn on the setting and we’ll go.”

Iona watched as the pilot left the cockpit of their helocarrier and held his arm up over his face against the blowing sand. He opened the Danger Zone and did as he was told.

“Why are you leaving Gage’s helocarrier here?” Iona asked Benediction.

“Because taking it would be theft. It doesn’t belong to Gage. It belongs to whoever rented it to him. People here are declared dead after seven days. If it’s still here in six days, I’ll have it towed. There’s nothing wrong with leaving it there. There’s a lot of free parking on Io.”

“Yeah, that’s because it’s likely to be swallowed whole,” Iona said skeptically.

“Not if it flies,” Benediction said wistfully, not at all tainted by her pessimism.

***

The Tranquility Mansion was made out of old tires, but that didn’t mean that it looked like a tire fire. It did not. The tires had been recycled, broken into bits, poured into molds, and the bases of each building had been fitted with thousands of magnets that corresponded with magnets on the ground. That meant that the Tranquility Mansion hung just a little above the ground. Most of the buildings that made up the grounds were huge and a single person stepping on them did not upset their balance, but there were loads of tiny buildings floating here and there that moved slightly under the weight of their owners.

Iona had been stunned by the roman styled columns made out of black that created a sharp contrast against the yellow sand.

Once inside, Benediction unbuckled Iona’s straight jacket himself and invited her, most cordially to his personal rooms in the mansion.

“Where’s Leviticus?” she asked gloomily.

“He’s being questioned. You can see him through the mirror if you’d like, but you can’t speak to him until he’s answered all our questions.”

Iona nodded and Benediction led her down a dark hallway lit only by glass lanterns that floated over Benediction’s head. The rubber under Iona’s feet helped her to keep walking after her ordeal on Loki’s breastplate, but she refrained from fainting until she had seen Leviticus.

Just as Benediction said, he was behind a dark-tinted mirror with one of the followers of Voynich who had her green hair done up in a french braid.

She asked him a question.

He answered with frustration.

She asked him another question.

He slammed his fist against the table.

“Seen enough?” Benediction asked.

Iona mused quietly. “He’s been here answering questions since you took us both from Sleeping Beauty Inc., hasn’t he?”

“He would have been asleep in bed hours ago if his story made sense. He’s lying, about a collection of things. We have to find out the truth and we can’t let him collect himself, be left alone to come up with a new story that makes sense or use any of his implants to turn the tables on us. It is looking more and more like he is a spy and a threat.”

“If he’s a spy, who do you think sent him?” Iona wondered.

“That’s yet to be seen,” Benediction said with a smile.

“So, when do I get interrogated?”

“We can start right now if you’d like,” he said as he turned and led Iona away from the interrogation room.

“What do you want to ask me?” Iona mumbled, her voice grating.

He tilted his head. “I suppose we can start with the most obvious question. How long have you and Gage been lovers?”

Iona stopped moving. Normally, if she were asked a question like that, she would refuse to answer it. More than that, she’d refuse to give the tiniest hint as to the answer in her demeanor. However, the man asking her was a copy of Gage and his dark skin did not change how familiar he felt. His voice was the same, his eyes were the same blue, like the god of the sky, and Iona fidgeted, but then gave her answer. “We weren’t lovers. He was my handler until I bought him to help me campaign for a higher paying contract.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Benediction searched her face for signs she was lying, but rather than coming to a conclusion he suspended disbelief and continued to lead Iona down the hall. “Leviticus says that you and Gage picked him up on Europa after Gage had a run-in with Olivine. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“Where did Leviticus come from before that?” Benediction continued.

“I’m not sure. Maybe from out beyond the asteroid belt. I don’t know much about him. Leviticus wasn’t part of my plan or my contract with Gage. He was just tagging along with us. I don’t know him very well.” She paused and coughed. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, stumbling after him, exhausted and weak.

He took her hand as he seemed to realize how weak she was. “I’m taking you to my quarters. There’s a nutrient bath ready for you there. Don’t be alarmed, but the water will be pitch black.”

“Is that what you do to turn someone’s skin black?”

“No. It’s just a healing bath to help ease your sore skin. The process for turning skin black is more complex than a bath.”

From that point on, he didn’t ask her any more questions. He had her hop up from one mansion to another twice before they arrived at his quarters. They were grander than the others, but only in the sense that the columns that made up the building were taller. She was led to a corner where the floor opened to a black bath.

“I’ll leave you alone to get in the water,” he said as he stepped away from her.

Iona was about to ask him how he intended to leave her alone when mirrors fanned out from inside the columns that surrounded the bathtub, appearing to create a privacy shield. Iona smirked. The first thing Benediction had shown her in the Tranquility Mansion was a two-way mirror.

She didn’t trust him.

She also didn’t care.

Her clothes were ruined. The white tank top was stained from the yellow sands and almost looked as though it was tie-dyed by a toddler who didn’t quite understand how the dying process was supposed to work and botched it. Her jeans were mangled. Holes had been burnt in a few places where the wind blew something particularly foul at her. She had taken a few of those hits to the arms. She pulled off the bra and the granny panties Gage had handed her through the gap in her closet doors.

She scoffed.

In all the times he had transported her, it hadn’t mattered what she wore when she went to sleep in the cryochamber, except that one time. Gage had foreseen the trouble and dressed her appropriately. She had a moment where she imagined herself on the sands of Io in that tiny slip dress with sand blowing up her dress with her hands and ankles bound. She reminded herself that it wouldn’t have worked out that way as she could have picked up clothes at a few stops along their route, but it didn’t matter. She was charmed that he had looked after her.

She slid into the water, putting a blistered toe in first.

The water soothed her body so immediately that she was aware that the water had to be laced with a collection of drugs in order to be so effective. That idea made her want to get out of the water, but another part of her… that part was the skin on her face which was not in the water, reminded her of the grave discomfort she’d feel if she got out. Surely, it was okay to enjoy it a little more.

She remembered Gage telling her about his choice to take the sedatives and it suddenly became very clear to her that she had to find a place to hide in the Tranquility Mansion because that was the only way she could sleep soundly.

She reached for a towel.

The mirrors opened. Benediction entered. He had a servant with him. The servant had a tray with various bottles on it and when they knelt on the floor, placing the tray next to the bath, Iona could see them.

Benediction pointed to the different bottles. “The blue one will stop you from feeling pain. The green one will prevent infection. The white one will give you a false layer of skin that will help protect you until you’re healed.”

“Are you a doctor?” Iona asked suspiciously. “Gage wasn’t a doctor, but he was very good at treating sick people.”

“Really? I didn’t know that. I actually didn’t know Gage very well. Maybe you could tell me a bit more about him.” He stuck out his finger and on it was a black bikini top. The straps dangled in the water. “It’s for when you get out. All the good that can happen in this water will be accomplished in the next ten minutes. If I leave you in the water much longer, I’m worried you’ll lose a significant amount of skin. When you’re still in the water, I need you to put on this bathing suit so that we can move on to the next phase of your treatment. But if you’re more comfortable naked, I can–”

Iona slid the top out from between his fingers and let it fall in the water. “Bottoms please,” she said without emotion.

He dropped them in the water in front of her and changed the subject. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

“Why would I need to do that?”

“Your throat filter has expired.”

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“Even if you put it in when we dropped you off, it would be expired by now. They’re not endless. Normally, you’d need to change it approximately once a week. Since you did more breathing outside in the last twenty-four hours than most people do in a week, it’s expired. Open your mouth and I’ll replace it.”

Iona didn’t want to, but she did not want an excess of sulfur and guck in her throat. She didn’t trust him, but in some ways, she was also past the point of fear. She opened her mouth and true to his word, he pulled out the filter with a pair of extra long, extra thin, tweezers.

“Mind if I take the ones out of your nose too?”

She gave her consent and he pulled out the ones in her nostrils.

She took a deep breath. “The air in here smells nice. How is that possible? There aren’t any walls here. There are only columns.”

“The walls are not actually open. They only look like they are. It’s a little trick because it’s cheaper to build the building predominantly out of glass. There’s a lot of sand on Io and so we build glass houses. The buildings may fall, the glass may break, but this is Io and there’s so much sand we can’t number it. Glass is very easy to recycle.”

“Isn’t it dangerous to live in glass houses? Glass is heavy and if it breaks, someone could get hurt,” she asked, her voice still garbled.

“Ah, I forgot about your throat. Vych, please go fetch a tonic from the medicinal fridge. I earmarked one with a pink label. Bring a small meal as well. My lady is undoubtedly hungry after her experience.”

The servant left them. As soon as she was out of sight, Benediction dipped a glass jug in the water.

“What are you doing?” Iona asked in alarm.

“Calm yourself. Our glass rarely breaks when it falls on our rubber surfaces. I’m going to wash your hair. Normally, I wouldn’t be allowed to do such a thing and never in front of one of my followers.” He scooped up a full jug of black water and gently started pouring it over Iona’s scalp.

“Why do you want to wash my hair?” she asked tentatively.

He was slow to answer as he finished wetting her hair and began to work a dollop of soap into it. “I… I have left maybe a dozen people on Loki’s Breastplate. Half of them have been torn apart. The other half of them were messed up from exposure. Half of the ones who lived through the trial died anyway from exposure. I prepared all these treatments for you in the twenty-four hours you were out there. Of all the people I’ve strapped to the rock, you were the only one who saw the experience as a worthy test. I… had strange feelings while I looked at you… when we cuffed you… the look on your face, the gleam in your eyes, the words that came from your lips.”

Iona couldn’t see him as he said those words. She could only hear the words floating down to her ears and hovering in the air with their exact meaning concealed from her.

“Many of the followers of Voynich love tests like that one. They want to see others tested. They don’t want to be tested themselves. You are the only person I have ever seen submit herself to the test.” His voice was like his heartbeat, steady and warm. The hands that touched her were careful and caressing.

What was he saying? What was he confessing?

Iona cleared her throat. “I thought the test wasn’t valid because Gage pulled two of my stakes free.”

“I had a mathematician work on it. If your stakes had not been moved, you wouldn’t have died. The chains would have given you enough leeway that you wouldn’t have been killed. What is most likely to have happened was that the force of the fissure would have broken both your humeruses, but you wouldn’t have died. What Gage did merely stopped you from breaking your arms.”

“They’re sore,” she admitted, not daring to remember what happened in the moment that her upper arms had been pulled the wrong way. “Does that mean that the test was valid and I’m cleared?”

“Yes,” he said softly.

At that moment, his servant Vych returned. She had a second tray in her hands with dishes and the bottle of tonic Benediction had sent her to retrieve. The tray rattled as she saw Benediction washing Iona’s hair. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

“What?” he said softly, almost like he was happy now that he had got his hands soapy. “Put the tray down.”

“Sir, can I take over for you?” the servant asked, barely hiding her horror.

“You cannot. You can unscrew that tonic and give it to Lady Iona.”

“Her name is Iona?” the girl gasped.

Benediction laughed a deep throaty laugh. “Seems like it was always meant to be, doesn’t it?”

***

The rest of the time passed in a daze as Iona slipped on the bathing suit under the water. Benediction helped her out of the bath and placed her on a padded medical table covered in white towels. He had Vych light candles around them, claiming that if there was only a little warmth in one candle, many of them would keep Iona warm as they waited for her to air dry.

Her hands were sore, so Benediction himself held a drink to her lips and brought food to her mouth.

Eventually, he helped her lay on the table where the concoctions in the bottles were sprayed on her, allowed to set, and new sprays were applied.

“Do I look a mess?” she whispered.

“You look more beautiful than any woman has ever looked… to me.”

During all of this Iona did not think about Gage. She couldn’t bear to think about him. Iona had put plenty of unpleasant things out of her mind and what happened to Gage was something she couldn’t do anything to rectify. She didn’t know the first thing about hunting for people underground and if her mind approached the threshold of how Gage would feel falling between the cracks of an alien world, the panic she experienced went all the way to the roots of her hair. Gage would hate dying underground. There is nothing he would hate more. He needed to be in space. He needed to be where the stars burned, where the comets soared, where time disappeared, and where he could finally be free, even when he was a slave.

The idea tormented her as she fell asleep.