Trilemma
Chapter 17:
Back down the stairs. This time, the agony of my injuries had caught up with me. I stumbled and winced my way down every step, stretching out a palm against the wall, leaving a track of blood smeared behind me. The sounds of battle had erased themselves from the air, and a heavy odor of gunpowder filled the halls.
Airmen lay underfoot, bleeding and dying, gasping for air. The sight disturbed me. Here were the remnants of humanity in this River-forsaken city, broken and shattered on the floor of this building. The walls still sputtered out red vines of light that gradually faded into nothingness, though these were starting to die out for a reason unknown to me. The animal howl of the building’s alarm took on a deathly quality, sounding more like a death rattle than a howl of fear.
I paused behind the corner of the hallway that led out towards the main entrance. Silhouettes of guards, armed with automatic rifles, stood between me and the exit as I peeked around.
As I considered my options, I felt a blow from the butt end of a rifle and crumpled to the floor, letting out an audible gasp.
“One over here!”
I tried to struggle to my feet, only to be hit with a kick from a jackboot. Another blow from the rifle butt followed. Then another. Running footsteps sounded from the entryway. I clenched my fists and raised myself to a kneel, scrambling to get out of the way. Another blow fell against my back as blood dribbled from my broken nose to my chin, and flecked against the floor.
I was surrounded. A relentless stream of kicks, punches, and hits with rifle butts crashed against my body. The pain overwhelmed me. I screamed and curled into a ball, trying to cover my body against the relentless assault.
The storm only stopped when I had no energy left in my body to meet the attack. I was dragged from the floor by my shoulders, groaning, out to the area outside the building, alongside a group of other captives who likewise had borne the brutality of the invading force. My attackers threw me to the floor and tied my hands behind my back, before giving me one last blow with the rifle butt to keep me in line.
Blood leaked out of my face, which turned to the side and saw the two dozen or so captives writhing on the ground to my side. Moans of pain filled the air. I wondered to myself where Yuri was, and a single tear traced its way down my face onto the stone slab beneath me.
A trembling hand reached out to my broken form. The man next to me groaned out, “Haye Zintan?”
That voice was familiar, even through my pain. “Di?” I croaked.
“The same.”
I blinked at him, struggling to recognize the battered human at my side through an eye swollen shut. “How many left?”
“Twenty, maybe thirty. They’re still dragging people out.”
He was right. Two guards dragged out another airman, similarly brutalized, and threw him next to me. The sound hurt.
I swallowed. “Where is Yuri?”
“Unknown.”
I shifted my head, nerves firing off incessant signals of distress, and turned my eyes towards the front entrance. Two guards stood watch at the entryway. I closed my eyes and surrendered my head to the floor again, though the pain still reigned over my being.
From behind me, one of Zealot’s flock whispered up to Di, “Where’s Zealot? Have you seen him?”
“Fennarir, keep quiet.” Di muttered back.
I’d left the man to his own devices. How he would possibly escape was unknown to me. The past few minutes had been a blur of memories, some belonging to another thing inside me - a new being, created from the mixture of human essences. I was beginning to wonder if Yensir had found new life inside of me. What I had said to Zealot, and why, I didn’t know.
My head struggled to pass my vision over the captives behind me, wary of the gun-wielding guards that stood at the ready to gun us down. In that group of faces, each melding with the other in my consciousness, were reflected Yuri’s bald head, his beard, his eyes, his ragged clothing. I was too tired to separate them out, to try and discern if there was one person they all belonged to. My heart sank, and I felt my eyes well up again with tears. Where was he? I’d told him to meet me outside… What if he’d been shot?
My stomach knotted up as I considered that possibility. What if I’d gotten him shot?
A loud eruption of curses exploded from the front of the building, gradually growing in intensity. I turned my head down, so as to not look the approaching guards in the eye. This was unsuccessful. A boot slammed into my arm, causing agony to shoot through me.
“Get up.” The voice was brusque.
I struggled to fulfill the demand, raising myself first to my elbows, before groaning in pain, unable to continue. I spat out a clot of blood.
The voice’s owner didn’t wait for me to muster up the strength to obey. A single hand reached down by the scruff of my shirt and forced me to my feet. A scream of pain escaped my lips as the barrel of a pistol was shoved in my face. My knees quivered as I was frog-marched out from the group. The airman holding me threw me to my knees in front of familiar brown boots.
Brown boots. The smell of hookah. Cargo trousers. Field jacket. My eyes followed upward to the face above me, contempt written on her expression.
“Haye Zintan the rice disciple. Well met.”
Another trickle of blood ran down to my mouth from my nose. I looked away from her gaze. “Dr. Hennir.”
A smile flickered at the corner of her mouth, and she shook her head before it disappeared. “Remind me to check your head for loose screws. I’m curious to see what part of your physiology predetermines you to submit to religion over reason.”
“I’m not… even…” I struggled to get the words out through my pain.
“Oh no, of course not. You’re far too smart. You’re a cunning animal that chose the side that would ostensibly free you from this trap of a city. But you made the choice to side with Zealot regardless. You should’ve known he wouldn’t have come out on top. Only logical.”
My eyes opened, and I hallucinated a halo of orange light through her grayed hair, the pain driving me mad. “There are no sides, doctor.” I sighed out, faltering in and out of consciousness.
Her eyes widened in mock surprise. “Oh really? Tell that to the men and women who’ve been hoarding food and water for the benefit of one man’s lunatic vision. I’m sure they’re all perfectly ready to call this water under the bridge, eh? Now that they’ve got the short end of the stick that is.”
I saw more of Zealot’s followers being dragged out of the building. I hunched over, my palm falling against the floor, supporting me weakly through an avalanche of pain.
The doctor stepped to my side, surveying the gathered broken bodies at her feet. She muttered something to herself. “One of you knows where he is.” She declared. Her eyes scanned the captives, searching for something.
She stopped at one, hovering with an accusatory glare at the man below. “Where is he?” She demanded. After receiving no response, she snorted and stepped over to the next one. “Where is he?”
One of her subordinates, bearing a large bandolier over his great coat, walked over to her. He whispered something to her and pointed at Di.
“Ah! Good!” The doctor smiled. She walked over to Di and motioned for him to be pulled up. Di grunted as he was hoisted up by the doctor’s lieutenant.
Dr. Hennir spent a moment studying his face before asking, “Well, where is he? One of his captains ought to know, right?”
Di blinked, smiled, and pointed at his heart.
I involuntarily let out a pained breath that I had been holding. This was about to get ugly. I needed to help Di. He didn’t deserve to go like this. I had hardly known him for five rhythms but he had tried everything he could to help me in that time.
“Di… Just… Just give her an answer.” I croaked.
The doctor whirled back to face me. “Interesting. Friend of yours?”
I internally cursed.
No sound passed between us for a heavy moment. The doctor’s hand went to her chin, as if musing. She cocked her head at Di, then back at me.
Finally, she strolled over to my side and sat down next to me. “You know what logic dictates in this situation?”
I closed my eyes, preparing for the worst.
“Logic would have me pose the same question to you, Ms. Zintan. I’m never going to get a straight answer out of this rabble. You, on the other hand, probably have no love for the prophet.”
I grimaced. “He’s not in the building any more.” I tried to guess.
“That much is obvious. I’ve had fireteams sweep the building twice now. If he were there, we’d have found him or his body.” She put her thumb back under her chin. “Do you know where he went?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“That’s funny, cause you were last seen running full-tilt towards his quarters. That much we did manage to get out of your compatriots before you were captured. Perhaps warning him which paths weren’t blocked? Telling him to use a secret way perhaps?”
“No.” I rasped.
“Hmm.” Dr. Hennir tapped her head. “You know what I think, Ms. Zintan? I think you’re lying to me.”
“No.” I felt tears rolling down my cheeks.
Dr. Hennir sighed. “Oh please. No use crying now. That’s not going to sway me either way. Come on! Where’s the tough-as-nails bounty hunter I signed up for the mission! Buck-up!”
I swallowed again, and tried to recompose myself through closed eyes. “I don’t know where he is. He’s gone.”
Dr. Hennir shrugged. “Maybe I was wrong about you. You seem to have more loyalty to the man than you let on.” She licked her lips and held up a finger. “But see… There's one problem you haven’t considered.” The doctor held her hand out and placed her other palm on it. “Look at it from my point of view: I can’t leave loose ends dangling. There’s a threat to our survival out here, and I need to see him dead. Not just disappeared, missing his flock; dead. Lest he return from the boondocks somehow and start sabotaging our efforts.”
For the ghost of an instant, I saw the form of a giant bulbous head, craned over her shoulder, whispering puffs of smoke into her ear. My eyes widened briefly, and then it was gone.
“Now. Are you going to tell us where he left? I’m not one to do things the hard way, but I am willing to go there.”
“I’ve told you all I know, would you please listen to me!?” My voice raised.
Dr. Hennir let out a groaning sigh. “I wish you hadn’t said that, Ms. Zintan! That means we’re going to have to do this the hard way!” She beckoned for Di to be brought forward.
“No!” I cried.
The airman at Di’s side pointed his pistol at Di’s face.
Dr. Hennir turned and coldly declared, “Tell me where Zealot is, or I’ll blow a hole through your friend’s skull”
My guts wrapped around themselves, the weight of a cold stone slipping into their depths. “I- I-” I started.
“Yes? Go on?”
“He’s-” My mind flashed back to the library. “He’s at the Great Library.”
“The what now?”
“The Great Library! In the center of-”
“I know what it is, Zintan, I’m just trying to figure out how much of a fool you take me for?”
“Wha- wha-” I sputtered.
The doctor growled through her teeth. “They’ve taken you and brainwashed you. Dialectic curse it! They’ve taken you and brainwashed you! You’re lying to protect that maniac!”
“No! I-”
The doctor took off her glasses and cast them to the ground in frustration while crying out. I had no words in response.
Finally, she turned back at me and looked at me disdainfully. “Very well. I calculate you will still be the most cooperative among the possible subjects.” She motioned a different guard to go to the back of the crowd.
“What-” I started, filled with a sudden dread.
“Just…” she held up a finger. “I really did think better of you, Ms. Zintan. We’re here at the cusp of history, ready to take home a treasure trove of ancient technology for the benefit of all society, and you’re out here playing parishioner to a demented doddering old man. With him out of the way, we can focus our energies on getting out of here, you know, surviving. There’d be a place in the new world for your contributions. You could retire fat and wealthy, prosperous, living out the dream. And of course, I’d have seen the dialectic to its fruition, and finally stamped out those old cults that plague our society. All of them. Gone.” She slammed a fist into an open palm. She turned around and sized me up again.
“And now, Ms. Zintan, I am going to have to extract what I want by force. And to prove to you that I am deadly serious, we’re going to have to end a life here today.
My eyes widened as Yuri’s battered and bleeding form was brought forward from the group.
“Do-Do-o-on’t” I gasped out.
Dr. Hennir nodded. “Oh yes. We’re doing this.”
“Dr. Hennir, please… please don’t do this.” I shook my head, tears returning to my eyes. “Don’t do this… Don’t do this, please…” I cried, tears mixing with blood on my face. “Please…”
Dr. Hennir’s eyes darted between Yuri and Di. Yuri and Di. Yuri and Di.
Yuri’s eyes locked with mine, an expression of sorrow filling his face, tears rolling down his cheeks.
Di’s posture was the picture of calm, stoic decency, his broken hands folded in his lap.
“The only question is… Which one would be better as a proof of concept? On the one hand, Yuri’s known you for a while, on the other hand Di probably indoctrinated you into the cult…”
“They don’t dese-e-erve this!” I cried. “Please…”
“Hmm…” Dr. Hennir mused. “I suppose I should let the dialectic decide.” She shrugged.
“Dr. Hennir please! Please listen to me!”
“Eenie…” Her finger flicked to Yuri.
“Dr. Hennir stop!”
“Meenie…” Di.
“Doctor!” A new voice butted in.
“Miny…” Yuri.
“Have you lost your mind!?” Dr. Ininsir’s voice shrieked as she appeared behind the battered captives. Her torn labcoat flapped behind her as she threw her arms wide in shock.
“Moe.” Dr. Hennir said finally and pointed her finger.
A single gunshot rang out across the plaza.