Thanks to all those who replied! This Chapter is touching down a day early, because you'll needd that extra day to read it. It is by far the longest chapter yet, weighing in at over 1 1/2 times the length of the last chapter (which means a WALL OF TEXT WARNING is a prerequisite). This length is a neccessity however, as I can't split it into 2 chapers for several reasons. Anyway, hope you enjoy it.
This is the chapter where some plotlines develop, some answers are given, more of Godrar's control of the factory is revealed, some rare action takes place, and finally, the end starts to approach.
Chapter 20: Bad Omens
Working hours had finally finished, the slaves had been herded back to their cells. A trio of slaves had formed a circle around the 4th of their number. Jeff was carefully ushered towards the cells, his 3 closest friends doing their best to keep him guarded from unwanted attention- Slig, mudokon or otherwise. Clank of the door shutting, clink of the bolt being pulled across, click of the lock turning into place. The quadroon continued on their path. A huddle of shadowed shapes in an even more shadowy corner.
The blue-feathered Larry was the first to speak, as usual. “Jeff? How’re ya holding up, buddy?” He gave an encouraging smile.
The blue-skinned Jeff turned his head to focus on the first speaker “….So-so, Larry…..I guess……Just….dunno…..dunno about anything now…” He gave a strained smile.
The blue-shackled Trevor was the next to vocalise his thoughts “You’ll be alright Jeff. The Gas machine’s bust, it’ll take ‘em a while to replace it. And by then you’ll be sorted out.” He gave a friendly smile.
The blue-air filling Max huffed and spoke up “Damn slave drivers. Sticking Jeff on the Gas. Not to worry though, we’ll get Jeff right an get ‘em back for this.” He gave a menacing smile.
A blue mood then filled each of the 3 mudokons not already depressed, as, true to their words, Roy and Stan engaged the foursome once more. They gave sarcastic smiles.
“Oi! Well if it isn’t the inspirational leader Larry. Come on super-mud, why aren’t you breaking out yet?” Roy’s voice.
“Yeah. Aren’t you like, the second coming of Abe or something? Hurry up and bring down the Factory, Larry!” Stan’s tones.
Trevor extended an arm, barring Max’s path. He did not extend the other arm in time however to prevent his overly optimistic companion from rising to the bait. Larry faced the 2 pestering mudokons.
“Why won’t you drop it, you two? The plan doesn’t concern you, you don’t need to worry about anything.”
Roy rolled his eyes. A finger waggled in front of Larry’s face “Didn’t you listen to a word I said in the mess hall?! Your plans jeopardize all of us, not just you! The Sligs will only make things worse for us if you keep dicking around trying to get out!”
Larry swatted the finger aside. A hand dropped onto Roy’s shoulder, but was quickly batted away by the owner of said shoulder “What the hell can they do to make things worse for us, Roy?! What can they do? We commit just 1 offence and we can get killed as it is! Sligs are allowed to do whatever they want to us short of killing us without needing a reason! What else can be done?!! Nothing!”
Roy bared his teeth “What else? How about rounding up and executing a bunch of us an example!? Your latest genius idea involves a bunch of workers making a distraction! The Gluks would just let the Sligs shoot us all!!!”
Stan shoved Larry as well, now “Yeah, we don’t really want to end up dead thanks to you f***ing up again!”
The would-be escapist turned to Stan now “Who are you to be speaking Stan? You’re just Roy’s crony, his stooge backing him up! Besides, you wouldn’t end up dad anyway! The Gluks would be bothered more about getting rid of me than getting rid of you!”
Stan glared at Larry “His stooge? I’m not some lackey for Roy!”
Roy was now the one to swivel to face Stan “Hey shut up! You’re just here to back me up, remember!”
Stan glared at Roy now. “Screw that!”
With that, the so-called lackey slapped Roy, before turning to Larry and palming him across the face as well. Max, his once-again volatile temper boiling over again, now burst up and shoved Stan with both hands. Roy, having picked himself up, now stamped on Max’s toes, before slapping the leviathan of a mudokon. He turned to Larry and gripped him by his feather, only to have digits jammed in his eyes by the erstwhile dreamer. Larry went to grab Roy, but Stan tackled him, and before long the 4 mudokons were engaged in a rolling, broiling scuffle.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A much less aggressive spectacle was occurring on the other side of the factory however, with all the authorities mentioned and feared in the previous incident, and more, present.
2 Departmental Heads of the factory were present in a much more expansive and much more exclusive office than their own. The wall-high window overlooked the factory complex, yet currently was presenting a different image, with a vast screen hanging in front of it, having unfolded from a ceiling compartment. A 3rd figure, that of a Slig, stood to one side with a remote in his hand, purely there as a helper and instructed to neither see nor hear anything on the screen.
Both Departmental Heads, incidentally also both Vykkers, eyed the screen with a mixture of thoughtfulness and worry. The 4th being present in the room was stood to their right, cigar smoke frequently obscuring his view of the screen. But not that it mattered, for he had seen the footage earlier.
A Slig was walking down a corridor, only to be encountered by another Slig. This 2nd guard seemed agitated and anxious. Hurried words were mumbled by the jittery Slig. The first Slig seemed bothered by the 2nd, and began to back away. The jittery Slig continued whispering, and the concerned Slig seemed to turn menacing. The jittery Slig persisted, and the aggression faded, replaced by worry again. The jittery Slig then raised his left arm to his chest, extending to fingers, while clasping his elbow with his right arm. He then glanced around and hurried off. The first Slig paused, then fell back against the wall, resting his head against it and staring straight up.
The footage paused.
One Vykker spoke up first. Had the room not been soundproofed, an eavesdropper would have recognised it as the voice of Murphy, the head of what was once known as the rather un-imaginative Punishment Office, but had since been renamed Disciplinary Procedures Bureau, in an effort to appear more benign. “So what’s that all about anyway? Strange behaviour sure, but you do get eccentric Sligs.”
The 4th figure grinned. Another puff of smoke billowed out from him. Boss Godrar spoke from the corner of his mouth “It’s not eccentrics. If I ferget picture quality an’ boost up the sound, yer can get snippets of conversation.
He nodded to the Slig, who clicked a few buttons. The footage played rapidly in reverse, the image turned grainy, and the sound of speakers flickering to life was just audible. The video-feed began again, only this time visuals were impaired yet dialogue could be heard infrequently.
The 2nd Slig’s voice was the first heard “-ink was soft-”
The first Slig’s words were then audible “…ya how bloody……ever seen ya bef-”
The audio kept crackling, static interfering often. But words were still being spoken.
The 2nd Slig’s voice again “friendly t…slave…”
The first Slig again “….am Arth……”
The jittery Slig’s words were the next audible, after prolonged interference “…factory is cruel………help the sl……elp ourselves……”
The audio went poor again, before resuming with the first Slig. “…management’s ignorance……the slaves?”
The 2nd Slig’s words came out over the speakers again, still jerky “-key. There’s oth………work wi… slaves………free, but we…………of this bullcrap…”
The first Slig could now be heard again, the possible aggression visible no more throygh pictures but through sounds “………get yer killed……Whaddaya want with me?”
The nervous Slig spoke again “…same. I know ya……called Arthur, that being……ya used ta be……mudokon that tried…before………with them!”
The first Slig’s apprehension was evident in his voice again “……was a few screws……I might take ya up on the off……suicide. Besides……… everyone seems to know what I’m doing………everyone ta read.”
The 2nd Slig’s peculiar gesture was now just visible on the nearly-pixellated footage “……other Sligs doin’ this, they’re………can’t let someone hear this.”
The footage stopped again. Godrar spoke to his 2 Department Heads.
“Pretty incriminating evidence fer them 2 bastards. Do yer recognise anything about that footage?”
Murphy was blank, but the other Vykker, recognisable now as Rasputin, spoke up “Indeed. It’s evident from not only picture but sound that the more….reluctant of said conspirators is the Slig Arthur. It’s also evident that you have hidden cameras installed, as I also recognise the scenery as being the hallway not too far from my office.”
Godrar brushed off the accusation of spying “What do ya know of that Slig called Arthur, then?”
Rasputin paused, his beady eyes unfocused as he thought. “Well, not much. You secretary put through a call about him wanting a transfer and provided me with all his details moments before he arrived in my office. He’s clearly wanting to leave, but doesn’t’ seem the mutinous type. He looks too fat and lethargic to do that.”
A brief cackle sputtered from the Glukkon’s maw. “Heh. Well, I know a bit more about him then. The Slig ya see assistin’ us here is my Head o’ Security. He supervises the guards, an’ reports ta me. He keeps tabs on Sligs, an’ is popular an’ respected enough by the drones ta get any information off ‘em. This Arthur apparently used ta be considered the problem Slig o’ the guards. Soft on mudokons, caused fights, apparently even befriended a coupla the slaves. An’ we can’t be doin’ with that. But I also hear that in the past year or so, he’s done a reversal, an’ is now every bit as cruel an’ sadistic as the rest of ‘em. Just like a Slig security grunt should be.” Godrar grinned mirthlessly, and puffed again on his Lungbuster.
Murphy began “So why are you concer-“
“Don’t interrupt me when I ain’t finished speakin! Ya may be a high rankin’ staffer, but I can make you an unemployed screw whenever I want, so don’ irk me. The trouble is, when ya get a problem worker, it’s rare ta force the problem outta them. Ya can breed a problem into a normal Slig, but ya can’t breed normality into a problem Slig.”
The expert on the workforce out of the 3, Rasputin, again voiced his thoughts “So he may end up joining this little….rebel cult. But what of the other one? Weaselly little runt, certainly, but behind that twitchy shell is a very unwanted attitude. There’s no question about
his loyalties, he will try and bring the factory down.”
The owner’s eyes gleamed “So he gets brought down first. We keep an eye on the other one, make sure he’s not been swayed. If he ain’t, ferget him ,he’s just another grunt. If he turns though, ‘e gets the quick an’ painful solution as well.”
He nodded to his Head of Security “This Slig here is known as Merrick. He’s the on who’ll worm out that lil’ bastard.”
Godrar then faced Merrick “Righ’. Did yew here any of that conversation then?”
Merrick looked beguilingly blank “No sir, Boss.”
“Well ya shoulda, an I know ya did really ya lil twerp. Now listen ta me. Get one of ya Sligs that you know ya can trust. That Slig we want ta find is obviously new, so don’t pick a new guy, yet don’ pick a vet with a big reputation, cause you an’ I both know tha new Sligs get filled in on exactly who an’ what tha big Sligs of’ tha guards are. Pick a guy ya can trust. Get him ta make that signal discreetly ta a bunch of tha newer guards. When someone recognizes it, ye’ve got ‘im. Deal with him how ya wish.”
Before Merrick could salute, the malicious Murphy interjected “Might I suggest a suitable……disposal?”
As Murphy continued explaining his solution, the 3 other occupants of the room cracked smiles.
The security head spoke up first “Ya know, I think that’s the perfect method. Sorts out the loyal Sligs, an’ gets rid of the troublemakers.”
He smirked up at his superiors, and then turned and left for the Barracks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A circle of onlookers gathered, witnessing the spectacle until the usually level-headed Trevor reached out at the fighting slaves. He hauled Larry back by his loincloth, then barged Roy back to the edge of the spectators’ circle.
“Stop! Stop dammit!!!!!” the apprentice shaman’s voice was enough to halt the battle-hungry mudokons. Max released Stan mid-choke, and the 2 pairs backed off from one another. The voice of reason positioned himself at the midpoint once again.
“Listen! You guys may have a problem with each other, but don’t go fighting! That won’t help you with your escape plans!” he snapped at Larry, before pivoting to Roy and Stan “And it’ll just do exactly what you feared and make the bosses punish everyone for being unruly!!”
Trevor left both arms thrust at full extension to keep both parties as far separated as possible. Eventually, they calmed. 3 of the 4’s skin returned to a normal pale green hue after deepening to scarlet. Max however, barely paled at all.
Roy lashed out with words first again “Fine then! You want us to be peaceful? OK. Let’s solve this democratically.”
Roy turned to the crowd of mudokons. Somehow, despite the fracas, the Slig on duty had not yet been woken from his slumber.
“Alright! Who here thinks Larry is ever going to escape? Come On, speak up!”
A couple of mudokons shuffled from foot to foot, but there was mostly silence. Roy seized this small victory and continued
“Everybody who thinks Larry is just a bumbling idiot who’d going to get the rest of us in more trouble and suffering, raise your hand!”
After more awkward shuffling, the vast majority of assembled slaves raised limbs in affirmation towards Roy. He turned to Larry with a face full of smugness.
Larry stared back at him unflinchingly, and spoke himself “OK then, thanks for your support everyone.” He begn, in a sarcastic tone.
“Those of you who don’t listen to Roy’s pessimistic whining and think we WILL get out of here, raise your hands.”
If Larry’s target had been 10 mudokons, it would still have been underwhelming. Besides Max, Jeff and an unsure Trevor, there was little positive motion fro mthe sea of green skin. One or two hands wobbled upwards, but many were shushed back down by the crowd. Those that weren’t quavered tremulously, and sank back into the pack of their own volition.
“Fine then! Fine then” Larry’s voice took a harsh bite. “Don’t have faith in me! But we’ll get out! We will, and then I’ll-”
Larry was cut off as the door to the main corridor burst open and a Slig hurried along it, pants clacking furiously as the motors strained to prevent him toppling head over heels. The snoozing staffer’s eyes popped open, and he composed himself into as alert a disposition as possible. The other Slig darted over and began whispering something rapidly to him, tone a mixture of urgency and glee.
Jeff, slumped down nearby the Guardslig’s chair, heard all of the conversation. In his depressed state, still semi-delirious from the Gas, he was unable to stop his mouth forming the word “Mikey??!!!”
All eyes in the room snapped towards Jeff. Many of the slaves attained to present an innocent and avoiding disposure, cowering away while still paying attention to events. Jeff, Larry and Max put their full attention on Jeff. Unfortunately, so did the two Sligs. The previously comatose guard cuffed Jeff around the head. “Shaddup you! Don’ listen in on Slig conversations!”
However, the Slig who had thundered into the room like a hyperactive Elum did not lash out. Instead, a smirk cracked his features “Yeah, that’s right. You know Mikey don’t ya? The rest of ya do too, don’t ya?”
Every face in the cells was innocently blank. The Slig was unperturbed, and continued
“Well, guess what? We all know about Mikey too now. We know how he’s been a slave helper, an a mutineer. How he’s been tryin’ ta get Sligs ta rebel, an been helpin’ you lot. An’ since we’ve been allowed ta do whatever we want ta him ta punish him, I don’t think ol Mikey Mudlover’s gonnan be talking ta any of you, ever again.”
Both Sligs cackled maliciously, and hurried out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
All he could hear as he walked down the corridor was the sound of his own pants. The repetitive thunks over and over again. But Arthur was paying no attention to the noise. It was the sounds of hours earlier, during his unwilling pact with Mikey the revolutionary, that were replaying in his head endlessly.
‘I’m gonna get done in. They’ll find out about this Mikey freak, then link me with him, or even if they don’t know, they’ll blame me anyway cause of my history, an then I’ll be Fleech food. Damn you Rasputin, ya bastard. Why couldn’t ya just transfer me like I wanted? I’d pay all the wages I’ve got with me ta get outta here!’
Arthur barely noticed as a gaggle of fellow Sligs hurried past him excitedly.
‘Huh. At least they’re happy about summat. What’ve I got ta be happy about? The closest things ta buddies I ever had here in Larry’s lot hate me. The only Slig who likes me is some insane wannabe freedom fighter. I can’t get a job transfer. I’ve got nothing like enough Moolah ta ever think about retiring. The bosses are spyin’ on me fer some reason. An’ I ain’t even got a Brew ta drown my problems.’
He continued walking. As Arthur drew closer to the Barracks, and the possibility of a Brew-filled night of sorrow and repression, he could hear a raucous din up ahead. It seemed to be coming from the Barracks.
‘Wonder why they’re all so upbeat an noisy. Prob’ly that bastard Lak’s got a promotion, an his stooges have got everybody some Brew ta make the celebrate, so Lak’ll think he’s king o’ the factory. I’m in fer a fun night tonight.’
But as he stepped through the barracks doors, he saw it was anything but that. In a situation reminiscent of the earlier squabble in the mudokon bunks, there was a ring of Sligs surrounding the centre of the room. They were jeering, cackling, or waving various foods and beverages in the air. As Arthur pushed his way towards the inner edge of the circle, heads turned to watch him, and the noise slowly faded.
‘Oh Odd no.’
Arthur stopped dead. In the centre of the room was Mikey, but he was much different from when Arthur had last seen him. His wrists were bound with some shackles, presumably lifted from the mudokon cells earlier. His mask was tattered. The right leg of his pants was buckled and broken, the metal warped out of shape as if struck with severe force. Steam hissed from it pathetically. His left pant leg was snapped off a few inches below the knee, the tip nowhere to be seen. And his body was a mess. Bruises and angry red welts adorned his form like a catastrophic attempt at body painting, blood trickled from his mouth. Yet the injuries, though grisly, were superficial. He was writhing around energetically enough, attempting to part drag, part crawl and part hobble out of the circle. But he was repeatedly getting knocked back in. The room was still populated with speech, but it had died down from what it was before. As Arthur stared, Mikey spoke
“Arthur! Ugh, thank Odd you’re here! Help me outta this!”
The room now fell silent, as every gleaming red orb behind each black mask fixated intensely on Arthur. A low chuckle started up, like a cat’s initial growl warning an aggressor to cease their hostilities. A Slig, recognisable by voice as Neal, laughed out with “See? Ya do have buddies after all mate!”, the sarcasm so heavy it was not just dripping, but cascading off each syllable.
Another Slig then clapped Arthur on the shoulder. He turned, and instantly recognised it as Merrick, the Head of Security. All Sligs recognised him and as their superior, it was his job to be recognised. His white baton and red body armour were unmistakeable, but when the armour and baton were off, as they were now, Sligs still recognised him. Or at least, if they didn’t want to risk getting themselves pulled up before the owners on false or exaggerated charges, they did. He was identical to every other Slig, yet distinguished at the same time.
Merrick grinned “Something ya want to tell us Arthur?”
Arthur’s years of gambling served him no aid in performing a poker face to try and deflect suspicion. He had always lost a lot of Moolah when gambling. “Uh….like what?”
Another grin. Merrick’s voice boomed again “Like, how you an this pathetic lil whelp had a conversation about bringin’ down this factory the other day, outside Rasputin’s office?”
Another of Arthur’s faults, the tendency to say the wrong thing under pressure, manifested itself “So you’re the one who’s been spyin’ on me, why?”
‘Nice one Mouth. You don’t listen to me enough, do ya?’ Arthur’s brain said to himself. The expression that crossed Arthur’s face was unmissable, even to the Slig furthest away at the back of the room, as one that said “Oh s***.”
Merrick’s smile faded “No. But I have seen the footage regardless, an heard te audio, an thanks ta your tongue slippin just there, I see no reason why I shouldn’t kick you inta this circle with that piece o’ guttertrash, an let all these boys do what they like.”
Arthur’s normally deep green skin paled considerably. His tongue caught in his throat “No, n-n-o Merrick, sir, I-”
“Unless……” Merrick cut him off. “Unless I can think of a more fairer punishment.” He feigned deep thought for a split second, then the sinister smile reattached itself to his features “Oh, I think I can.”
Merrick removed his arm from Arthur’s shoulders and walked around the edge of the circle, stopping at a random point.
“I have a proposal for you, Arthur. Now, the footage and audio we saw could be wrong. It coulda been scrambled. The missin’ pieces of sound may prove that you were actually resistin his attempts ta make you join his little….militia, an were instead an unwilling victim. Wrong place, wrong time.” He paused, and walked on a bit more. Arthur was too nervous to notice the melodrama.
“But the thing is, we don’t know that’s the case. An’ there’s no way of enhancin’ the audio so we do know. So you’ve gotta prove it, an there’s one way ya can do that.”
Arthur began to crawl out of the corner of despair and despondency he had ensconced himself in, desperately clutching at the thin strand of hope.
But Merrick’s eyes gleamed, and his grin grew even more menacing.
“Here’s ya way out Arthur. One simple, easy way ta prove your innocence.”
He then gestured to Mikey
“Kill him. With yer bare hands. An’ do it now. Kill him.”
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PHEW. Read if you can make it through the chapter, and reply.
