The Heart Shaped Tragedy

Samson looked through blurry eyes at his surroundings. It was hard for him to focus, his head was throbbing and his ears ringing, but being struck at the back of the head with a blunt object would do that sort of thing to a person.

Gritting his tar-stained teeth he forced his breathing to slow, to try still his rapid heartbeat.

It had all gone wrong so fast! He thought bitterly, as he looked around the room, he and his small group of insurgents were being held in. The group had been bigger at the start, but now they had been reduced to a mere five members, Samson nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all, five members to lead a resistance movement in the mega-city Perseverance It was an impossible task, but there had been no other option, it was either die attempting to overthrow the ruling corporation known as Majesty or live a dull meaningless life as a corporation slave, every part of your life dictated by officials and algorithms, with it being brutally enforced by Majesty’s private army.

It was during one of Samson’s depressive episodes when a sewer runner had come to him with information, that, although it was most likely a trap, the sheer pay-off of it being true was far too great to ignore.

The Majesty’s governing board was to meet, in person, with the shadowy founder and CEO of the corporation, it was a rare thing for the board to meet, rarer still for Bishop Strain to leave his, quite literal, ivory tower.

Bishop Strain, the name was synonymous with wealth and power. It had been said his personal fortune eclipsed that of most nations, if there was a ruler of the world, then it would be him.

The reason Samson and his group were currently held prisoner had been the fact the data slates containing the location and security layout of the board meeting was being held within this intel department building. The plan had been simple, disguised as Majesty security the group would infiltrate the building and make their way up to the head overseer’s office, where the data slates were, unbelievably, hidden within a heart shaped locket. Samson had scoffed at this, but it would be just like the corporate nobles to hide their secrets in such a fancy container.

It was a simple retrieval mission that had gone wrong almost instantly. The moment they entered the overseer’s office the alarms had sounded, and the blast doors engaged, sealing off the elevator and any other means of escape.

The Firebrand insurgency group Samson belonged to didn’t believe in surrender and all had been fitted with chemtex kill switches located in a false tooth, but they all preferred to go out fighting, it was heroic, a blaze of glory against corporate greed, it had also been the reason they were taken alive. For the Firebrands were unaware of the odourless gas seeping into the office, Samson himself only realised a mere second before he passed out, and now he was on his knees awaiting, no doubt, summery execution.

Samson’s thoughts snapped back to the present when the doors slide open and two corporate agents walked in, flanked by four machine guards. When he saw the golden sun pin on the agents’ knee length black overcloaks, Samson felt his blood run cold, and he truly wished he had used the now absent tooth.

Maverock Cross was a man of action. He had been a Majesty agent for near thirty years, and in that time had managed to crawl his way up to the lofty position of High Deacon, one of ten such agents in the entire corporation. His endless thirst for perfection and order had served him well, it had caused a few minor setbacks, but no one could question his methods, for in the Majesty it was results that mattered, nothing else. Moving a lock of his blond hair away from his steel grey eyes he regarded his companion. Sanyah Falstum was every bit his equal, in rank and station, and he had to secretly admit the black and gold uniform her figure quite well. Yes, Maverock respected her, but it galled him she had been assigned to assist him in this counter terrorist operation. In the last two years Maverock had systematically pulled apart the web of insurgency infesting Perseverance, and now he when he was landing the final blow the board decided he needed a glorified chaperone.

Sensing his regard, Sanyah looked at him, her golden eyes stood contrast to her dark skin.

“Something the matter, Cross?” she asked archly, one brow raised in question. Neither of them stopped their walk, they were on the clock, both had reputations to uphold.

“Nothing’s the matter” Maverock said smoothly with a false smile, his companion smiled one of her own. “I was just merely wondering if you would allow me to conduct the interrogation alone, my methods can be somewhat…. disconcerting”

“I am on different parameters than you, Cross” she replied as they continued down the white corridor. “I will question the runners, and you shall interrogate this, Samson, character” her golden eyes turned to regard him once more. “Is this to your liking?” there was a tone of challenge in her question.

“No challenge here” he answered with a real smile this time. “It would be best if we separated them, ill take the leader into another room, and we can have the audioserfs feed torture sounds into the rooms” whenever Maverock spoke about this sort of work he suppressed any emotion he could, he needed to be clinical, mistake could be made if an agent became overzealous.

“Naturally” Sanyah nodded, and as they approached the cell doors, she stopped to turn to him. “There will be no need to provide false audio, I find making new sounds so much more effective” her voice was as cold as ice, this didn’t bother Maverock, but the look of delight in her eyes however did.

He merely nodded and tried to hide the feeling of disgust showing on his face, despite his earlier comments about his methods, he hated needless torture or bloodshed, he found it wasteful and not something an agent of order should revel in. whether she noticed, he wouldn’t know for the cell doors opened and they stepped into the room without delay.

“My dear, Samson” he said approaching the Firebrand leader. “How nice of you to join us tonight” the microchip embedded in his brain sent the signal for two of his machine-guards to pick up his prisoner. Staring deep into the men’s brown eyes, Maverock gave another false smile. “Shall we get better acquainted?”

*

Seven hours later Samson was a blooded mess, his fingers had been bent the wrong way, so had his legs. Several ribs had also been broken, he had been able to withstand most of it without a sound, but the burning had been too much. Half of his face had been burnt, if it wasn’t for the cocktail of drugs, they were flooding into his body there would be no doubt he would be dead. The worse part being, he had yet to be asked any questions.

Maverock had stripped down to his gold silk shirt, not wanting to bloody his cloak or waistcoat. He placed the blowtorch back onto the surgical tray and idly looked at the instruments he had yet to employ.

“No doubt you are wondering why I haven’t asked you any questions?” Maverock said suddenly. He had one of the machine-guard move a stool in front of his…guest. Sitting opposite the terrorist cell leader, he once again met Samson’s hard gaze. “You’re a tough man to break, but I would expect no less from a proud member of the Firebrands” he mocked, faking a terrified expression. “Must work wonders on the gutter scum, to inspire them to throw their lives away for a lost cause”

“The cause will never be lost so long as one of use lives, Cog!” Samson spat angrily, showering his host with blood. Maverock merely smiled through it.

“Have you quite finished?” he asked once, Samson, fell silent. Standing once again he moved to the shuttered windows. “Override code; Crystal number two-five-six-four-one-four” The blast shutters covering the windows retracted, showing the night cityscape of Perseverance. Maverock wheeled his blood covered guest to the window.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, his augmented eyes scanning the neon lights of tower-blocks and aerocars. “A testament to the righteousness of our ideals, in a mere eighty years this place changed from a small village to the richest city on the planet. Each citizen down there is doing their part for a better and brighter future for all of mankind, with every step of the way being guided by Majesty. So, what if a few personal freedoms have been removed, does the average person truly know what’s good for them? Of course not, they are only concerned with their next meal, if their children are safe, or whatever reality garbage is streaming on the holovids” Maverock turned his attention to Samson. “The people crave security, and we gave them that”

“You’re insane, if you believe that”

“What’s insane” Maverock snapped. “Is believing your little Firebrands could make a difference” he stood straighter, his back to the large Majesty neon sign outside. “We are the future of Humanity, and you can’t fight progress” his face softened slightly. You are right however, your group and those like it won’t give up until you are destroyed” Maverock smiled. “The iron is you came here looking for this” he held up the heart shaped locket. “I almost can’t believe you fell for this” he laughed. “Did you really think such important information would be in a locket? Pathetic” he snarled. “It was all a trap to bring you here, because I know you know where the other cells are located and you are going to tell me”

“I’ll never break” Samson said defiantly.

“I know you believe that” Maverock replied, softly slapping his prisoner’s cheek. “Unfortunately for you the option of resistance won’t be a choice, bring it in” he shouted toward the door. A moment later a machine-guard entered carrying a glass vial. “This little beauty is the SPD EIGHTY-EIGHT, or brain bug if you must use the laymen term” the machine-guard opened the vial and the tiny robotic spider jumped out and onto Samson’s leg. It began to scurry upward, ignoring the futile attempts to dislodge it. “Now this little gem is going to crawl into your ear, once there it will cut and burrow its way to your brain” Maverock explained, matter of fact. “It will then hijack your brain and you will spill all your secrets, and I am afraid to say it is going to be far more painful than what you’ve endure so far.” Maverock could see the fear in Samson’s eyes. “That is unless you tell me what I want to know, and I promise you there will be no more pain”

“I will never break”

“I respect that” Maverock admired the man’s fortitude and bravery, it would do very little against the spider.

Samson screamed when the spider cut its way through his ear, and he kicked and writhed on the chair. After a few minutes the screaming stopped and Samson slumped.

“SPD EIGHTY-EIGHT, reporting for duty, High Deacon” it was Samson’s lips and mouth that moved, but it was a robotic voice that came out. Maverock allowed himself a smile. This was going to be a good day.

“Tell me the location of every terrorist cell this flesh bag knows”

And so the Firebrands across the world were destroyed, and progress continued uninterrupted, all because of one single heart shaped locket