[Munch's Master]

Ok, here we go. This chapter, or at least, the ending sequence of it, has been boiling and brewing, sat in transit for 4 years. And since it has been such a very long labour, it's only appropriate that it is also a very long chapter. I believe Microsoft Word put it in the region of 3500 words, just about reaching 6 pages. So be warned, if the first post in the topic is a Tower of Text, this is certainly a Battlement, or at least a Spire.

Chapter 27: Shaman's Death

Click. Tappity tap. Clockity tappity tap. Trevor’s fingers reverberated off the table in his interrogation cell, tapping out an old native tune. He dared not whistle for fear of bringing the Sligs down upon him, suspicious of his powers or simply annoyed by the noise. So his hands flittered over the desk, occupying his body and sending his mind back to easier times, to the times of freedom. His memories were abruptly and sharply contrasted as the door to his cell swung open.
‘Oh great, what’s this clown here for? My execution isn’t for another hour or so yet.’
An unfamiliar Slig grabbed him and unfastened the bolt holding his ankle shackles to the wall of the cell. The shackles themselves stayed at his feet, the wiring-filled metal still functioning as a chant suppressor. His wrist shackles were similarly unfastened from the bolts holding them to the ankle shackles, enabling him to be easily marched. The Slig hauled Trevor out of the cell and outside, where a further 3 Slig were waiting. The quartet enclosed Trevor, one either side, behind and in front, and inexorably forced him along the corridor. Confused as he was, Trevor knew that discretion was the better part of valour, or at least here, silence was the better part of keeping your face intact.
The guard took him town an unfamiliar series of passages, across unknown walkways, but Trevor began to establish a rough bearing as to where he was heading.
‘Why are they taking me here?’
The troop continued, through an automatic door that slid open as they walked through, past a desk with some black-cad, beige-skinned sticklike figure sat behind various sheets and stationery, and through a further door.
“Here he is boss. Bout an hour ta go before the executeration, just like ya asked.”
A curt nod and the Sligs responded, and backed to the door. The tall form barked out “Ain’t yer gonna leave? Even if he does have “scary powahs”, I has cameras and I has you outside the door. So get out.”
The Sligs were confused but followed their superior’s wishes, exiting the office in a hurried stumble.
Trevor stood, until Godrar harshly yelled “Sit!” at him. Trevor took a seat as instructed, and the owner of the factory also moved back behind his desk, reclining into his armchair.
“Why did ya just sit then? You ain’t a Slog, you’re a slave. A rebel bastard mutineer slave, but you ain’t no animal.”
“…-”
“Ah! I said you’re no animal. I didn’t say you were yet sufficiently high enough up the food chain ta speak, just ta not act like one of our produce.”
Godrar’s confusing-to-follow undermining tactics had begun.
“Now I’ve brought you here for a reason. I don’t do anything without a reason or purpose. Your life’s gonna have no purpose in about 53 minutes, but I don’t intend to just kill ya. It’d be a waste of resources.”
He leaned forward
“But you clearly had a purpose before we caught ya. Your purpose was ta break out of here, seemingly with some other muds. I know that your main reason was ta get away from here, but there’s more than that. Why only take a few slaves? In fact, why take any of the other scum at all? Why not use your powers, if they weren’t blocked, ta possess a few Sligs and have them just lead you out the door? There’s stuff you ain’t tellin’ me. Over the next 50 minutes, you’re gonna tell me. You’ve got nothing ta lose from it. Ya might get a stay of execution or even a reprieve. We’ll have to wait and see what ya tell me. So start talkin’, you’ve moved up to that level of the food chain now.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hit me.” Eyes narrowed, red glares passing between the 2 faces. The tension was palpable, something was going to give, and when it did it would explode tremendously.
“Sure.”
A pause.
“Ow! I didn’t mean like that yer bastard. That gag’s as old as our mother.”
Chuckles, and a shuffling, papery sound.
“I got two pair, tens an’ aces. Oh, an Queen high.”
“Two pair fours an’ Valets, nine high.”
“You frickin’ suck at cards, Hoole.”
“An you suck too, Colm. Hearts flush, 2, 5, 6, 8, Queen.”
Arthur’s head looked up from his own hand.
“Well I dunno bout you, but I got a mighty strange hand. I got three 7s, a Boss, an’ fer some reason, an Intern McGready card from Unhappy Families.”
“You been fiddlin’ the deck Neal?” The one known as Hoole asked.
Arthur smirked. “If he has he’s fiddled it worse than a Vykker messes round with its dangly parts at bedtime.”
“You know a lot about what Vykkers do at night then?” Colm asked.
Neal grinned. “Course he does. He’s told ya about that old Vykker friend of his right? An’ he used ta work at the Labs.”
“Aye.” Arthur nodded, tossing in his inexpertly fixed hand. “Every night I was kippin’ with a different vykker, ticklin’ some skin flaps below its belly button. Not sure what it was about but they seemed ta like it.” He cracked a sarcastic smirk and lit up a Lungbuster.
The fifth Slig at the table sighed “Pity I didn’t have that on record. Be useful blackmail material.”
Arthur nodded “I’m sure you’ve got enough on me already. Besides, know what happened to the last Slig who tried ta blackmail me?”
The air turned colder, and all 5 Sligs leaned in closer.
“No, what?”
“Neal knows.”
A nod from the table’s dealer “I do. It weren’t pretty….What happened, ta be specific, was” he deadpanned, his face grave. “he got away with it.”
Snickers from Neal and Arthur as they leaned back, leaving the other three at the table slightly deflated.
“So…..” Said Neal, idly flicking a couple of coins “Wanna go in again? Or are you so embarrassed at losin’ all yer Moolah that you’re gonna quit?”
“More disgusted that you’re such a hopelessly shit cheater, ya mean.” Hoole retorted.
A glance at the barracks clock from Colm “It’s a bit early ta piss all my Brew money away. An’ besides anythin’ else that execution happens in about half an hour. I’m one of the lucky ones who gets a sit-off this mornin’ ta watch it. You ain’t are ya, Chev?”
The fifth Slig at the table, evidently Chev, shook his head “Nah. I’m on Oddamn cell duty fer the mudokons, over in Zulag 2 or 3, don’t remember which. I’ll pick 2, it’s nearer.”
A 2nd headshake “I’m on patrol duty round the corridors. Pointless job if yer ask me but apparently someone’s got ta do it.” Muttered Hoole.
Arthur grunted “I’m not doin’ anything. Merrick’s all suspicious of me, the paranoid bugger, an’ won’t let me leave the Barracks until after the execution. But what the lord of security cockups doesn’t know is I need to go see the Boss, an’ I mean the big Boss, about summat. Security business in fact, which I shoulda done yesterday but forgot. Damn annoying as I wanted ta see that mud die after all the shit he’s put me through”
Neal nodded “Don’t worry, we’ll give yer a nice description of it. It’ll make the Rillette Slaughter Saturday roundup of the Scrabfights look like amateurs.”
“Alright. See you all later then.”
The five Sligs tossed in their cards, collected their winnings, Neal leading and Hoole trailing by reasonable margins each. Each went their separate ways, and before he left the Barracks Arthur made sure to check he had the stash of security discs on him. He set off on a quickstep to Godrar’s office.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Godrar stared Trevor eye to eye. Trevor coughed.
“I didn’t lie. Truth be told I didn’t really think of those solutions you suggested sir. In hindsight I shouldn’t have done.”
“If ya weren’t on the death watch anyway, that cockiness would be the end of you. You did lie. Was it to protect your friends, the others that got brought in and interrogated?”
A pause from Trevor “What does it matter what I tell you?”
The factory owner grinned “Not much at all. Your little pals won’t be executed. I’m sure that the story you fed to the Sligs was fake, but I’m not going to have them killed. The ringleader’s too much use to me as it is, if I kill him he becomes a martyr. The other slaves prob’ly know you’re lying so your death will make them hate the leader more, an’ they’ll want him to break out even less.”
Trevor looked into nothingness for a moment. Godrar’s words were too true, whatever Trevor said made no difference.
“Fine then. I was lying to the Sligs. I was protecting my friends. But you know that anyway so I have a question for you, sir. Why are you questioning me about things you already know?”
A flash of light as Godrar lit a large Lungbuster, the Paramite-silk woven luxury cigar filling the space between the 2 figures with smoke. “Because there’s 1 thing about it all I don’t know, or at least don’t understand. This loyalty, sacrificing yourself fer your friends. I know about the idea, but I see no way that it makes any sense. Care to enlighten me?”
Trevor shook his head slowly “I can’t. Sometimes there’s things more important than yourself, but you said yourself you cant understand that, and if you don’t understand it now nothing I say can make you understand. Larry’s a dreamer. He never succeeds but he dreams. If me dying means he keeps hope, keeps fighting, and maybe 1 day gets lucky or makes a change to the minds of the other mudokons, then its worth it.”
Another cackle. “Well then it wasn’t worth the effort. This factory ain’t gonna get brought down by just a handful of mudokons.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arthur walked through the front doors of Godrar’s office into the foyer area, ignoring the small collection of Sligs stood outside. Why they were they he didn’t know nor care. Alberto the Chronicler didn’t even look up at him, engrossed in his papers.
Arthur shuffled his feet and slouched against the wall besides a couple of chairs. Till nothing.
Low mumbles emitted from the Chronicler “hymm….orders from Flub Fhyuels…mhmr, …psshh…-onomy of scyale,…hrm, mbhm,….down thirteen percent.”
His head tilted up, but only to pick up the receiver on his personal phone. He dialled a few numbers into the Fone and then waited for it to ring.
Arthur cleared his throat loudly and looked pointedly at Alberto, who slowly flicked his gaze over. “Yis?”
“I’m here to see the Boss…again.”
Alberto held the Fone to his ear “Nyo appointment. Go h’away.”
“He’s expectin’ ta see me, and uh, it’s kinda important business.” He produced the discs and waggled them in the air.
“Ah yis, hello. Hold please.” Alberto covered the mouth end of the receiver with his hand. “I’m unaware of such business. If you feel h’it is so h’important, go through. h’I will not be held responsible though.”
Arthur nodded and hurried straight through. Alberto resumed his fonecall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Boss, I got tho-Whoops!”
Arthur walked straight through and froze in his tracks when he saw Godrar sat talking to Trevor. His mind weaved through possibilities, confused entirely by the situation he was seeing.
Trevor looked at Arthur almost unseeingly, but puzzlement was visible on his features, even moreso when he noticed the discs in Arthur’s hand.
Godar was unfazed. “Don’t barge in.” He kicked his desk, and a drawer slid open, pressure activated to compensate for the lack of available limbs. “Stick them in there. How many you got?”
Arthur paused “um…4.”
“4’s not enough. I said to get as many as you can. Go back and check again, get more.”
A vein pulsed in Arthur’s forehead, his eye twitched, but he said and did nothing in retort.
“Um…sir…you ain’t possessed are ya? Talking to this terrorist an’ all with no security?”
Godrar didn’t even look at him. “What I’m doin’s none of yer business. Go do as you’re told. Do it now, Merrick’s watchin’ this guy’s execution so won’t be around, an’ I don’t want him tryin’ ta get away in the shuffle afterwards with nothin’ ta get him definitely red handed.”
Simply dropping the discs into the drawer, which Godrar then tapped shut again, Arthur turned and, glancing at Trevor again with confusion still etched on both their faces, walked out the door.
Godrar’s eyes flickered to a wall-mounted clock. “Ah. Almost time to go. You’ve got about 24 minutes ta go. Getting’ the guards and takin’ ya there an so forth means….we’d better get goin’ now.”
He pushed a button on his desk. “Right, you 4, get in here. Time ta get goin’.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arthur walked out of Godrar’s office, past Alberto who was still on the Fone, and past the 4 Sligs, who walked past him and into the office as he left. He only barely recognised 1 of them; the other 3 weren’t familiar at all to him. Luckily he didn’t seem that familiar to them either, as they passed without comment, just a brief mumble by one of “Mudlover’s suckin’ up ta the boss now.”
Arthur continued walking, torn between going back to the Barracks to avoid Merrick’s ire, and doing as Godrar said and going to the security room. The decision ended up being made for him, as he bumped into Hoole.
“Arthur! Whatcha doin’ here, Merrick still wants ya in the Barracks don’t he?”
Arthur nodded “Yeah, but I’ve gotta go to the security office first.”
“Says who?”
“The big boss himself. Wants me ta do summat for him.”
Hoole laughed “Sure! You an’ yer wacky ideas. But seriously, go back ta the Barracks, I’m patrolling here, I don’t wanna get lynched if Merrick sees you out an’ about. I’m gonna escort ya back now before I get into trouble”
“Serious Hoole. I gotta go to the office.” Arthur wouldn’t be swayed.
“Whatever mate, just cause ya lost some Moolah on the cards this morning don’t mean ya should take it out on me, I lost cash too. Now come on, back to the barracks.” Hoole took a step forwards.
“Why wont ya listen when I say I need ta go to the office?!”
“Cause it can wait. Ya didn’t need ta go earlier.”
Arthur nodded “things changed, the boss told me so just now.”
A grin again from Arthur’s poker pal. “Quit bein’ daft. I don’t care hwat you’re really tryin’ ta do but whatever it is it’ll get me in trouble, so just shift er arse with me back to the bunks.”
Hoole gripped Arthur’s arm, lightly but with a sense of purpose.
Arthur sighed “Cause I can’t. Sorry Hoole.”
He punched Hoole in the gut with his free arm, then swung the Slig’s head into the corridor wall, knocking him unconscious. A quick glance around told him nobody and nothing had seen it, and with the cameras set to be examined anyway Arthur could cover things up easy enough. Arthur dragged Hoole’s limp form round the corner, and spied a nearby door. He continued hauling Hoole through the door, which turned out to be to a workstation, empty due to the slave lockdown and forthcoming execution. Leaving Hoole lying there off the beaten track, Arthur muttered another “sorry” and hurried on to the security room.
‘Smooth enough. Amphitheatre’s nearer than the bunks from the security room so I’d better head there when finished, easier ta get lost in the shuffle as Godrar said. Bastard.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A hurried figure entered the front-entrance elevator, which was already occupied by another. Quick nods were exchanged.
“He’s up doing the execution. I’m supposed to be there as well, especially considering my position. But I can’t risk it.”
“Not to worry. By the time he notices we’ll be well away. Even if he did send after us it wouldn’t matter. Corporate espionage is a severe offence but with your circle of friends and my legal wranglings we’d get nothing more than repayment and a hefty fine, which I’m sure can be covered anyway.”
“Not easily but yes, it can be covered. I still have our joint firm to fall back on. It’s not even my name its made out to but that’s the benefits of having well-positioned colleagues.”
“And careful paperwork. Oh the joy to be had there.”
The 2 figures exited the lift and walked round to the vehicle bay, a quick voice recognition entering them into the staff section.
“I trust you can operate a Vykker Pod?” The first figure asked.
“I wouldn’t own one if I couldn’t.” was the simple reply.
Both figures climbed into their Pods, and one dialled the other immediately through the inbuilt videofone, keeping the connection open.
“Merrick will certainly be caught.” The 2nd one said.
“He was a means to an end anyway. Shame really but that’s the greed of Sligs. And without the connections we have he won’t escape Skillya.” The 1st replied.
“Up until our departure we could have pinned it on him.”
“Still may be. I’m sure you can find a way, once you’re back at your old office.”
“It is quite possible. Him or dear Raymond. I still find it quite extraordinary that he is the one under the most suspicion. You must cover your tracks well.”
“It’s the benefit of a station that doesn’t immediately relate to financial matters. I still think you were lucky, but I suppose that’s the thing about Godrar. So certain he sees all that is hidden, he doesn’t see what is obvious.”
“Indeed. But we had better get going, sooner we’re away and cutting all trace the better.”
“Straight to Nolybab it is, then.”
Murphy and Alberto’s Pods rose into the air, and took off slowly, the Vykker and Chronicler in equal hurry to escape the scene.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chev idly opened the door to the mudokon cell quarters, due to relieve the current Slig on duty at this time and miss the anticipated execution in doing so. He was most surprised when he saw the Slig he was to relieve, simply lying against the wall.
“Oi, lazy fuck! Time ta move it.”
Chev slapped the Slig but got no response. He looked up and down the passage, along the row of cells, and everything went green. Then black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Trevor hung slumped in his shackles. The chant-blocking mechanisms had been attached to a bar hung from a wall of the amphitheatre, preventing him from running away. A few Chant Suppressors floated around here and there, just in case the shackles failed. The room itself was high and circular, 3-above ground floor tiers were arranged around all the walls. The room was used normally for either factory addresses, press statements or sometimes by illegal fights of all varieties by the Sligs. And of course, executions.
‘So here’s the end. No rescue, no Abe, no last minute breakout. Figured he’d let me down. Not like I expected it to happen anyway. Well Larry, good luck, hope you can find a way out soon my friend, but you’re without me now. You’ll have to be your own voice of caution now, but even when I’m a Weirdo in Necrum I’ll be pulling for ya. Hope you get the others out too. Jeff and Max deserve that much.'
Trevor stood heavily, as Godrar finished reading off the list of offences for which his death was deemed necessary. After a brief grunt from the Glukkon about “That bloody Murphy, should be here considering this is his department. Prob’ly designing a new torture device, the sick freak.” He gave a nod to the firing squad. Merrick was stood by, officiating things. A few Sligs were still trickling into the amphitheatre, packed thickly by the machine-aided thugs’ bodies. Several fought and squirmed to get front row views, and many aimed down their own sighs at him, mocking and grinning, pretending that they too were performing the execution.
Merrick slapped his baton on the ground.
“Right, firing party! Get yer guns up!”
The standard party-size of 6 Sligs raised their weapons.
“If ya ain’t loaded already, load up and expect a pay cut!”
1 Slig reluctantly uncocked his rifle, slipping 2 roudns into the firing chamber and snapping the barrel shut again. Merrick grinned.
“Aim and wait!”
He rose his club again as the 6 sighted down their weapons.
Trevor sighed, and looked back at the 6 gun muzzles. He was sweating, shaking, and struggling to avoid cracking, but he couldn’t crumble. He was going to die, but not going to die a disgrace. The Chant Suppressors seemed sluggish, or maybe that was just that his eyes were seeing everything in slow motion. Adrenaline seemed to turn the world into treacle; he glanced up at his shackles, immovable and irresistible as ever, then refocused on his executioners. The noise from the onlooking Sligs was an incoherent rabble of guffawing, heckling and chatter.
Merrick’s baton swung down. A quick burst of gunfire rang out.
-----------------------------------------------------


So there you have it. Just 2 or 3 chapters to go, which may or may not be including the epilogue, so the end is very much in sight, only question is- is there a light at the end of the tunnel, or just depper blackness?
To find out quicker, reply! Please feel free to come with critiques and comments full of love/hate/indifference, every word counts. Also HUGE +respect to you if you did make it through that above chapter in 1 sitting.