The extraordinary thing about torture, Face mused - either out loud or in his head, he wasn't sure - is that it didn't actually work. The captive would say anything to get the pain to stop, agree to anything. It really only worked to get the information you wanted, not the actual information you needed. Still, Face couldn't help but agree with himself, torture was very successful at messing with your sense of the outside world, for he had no idea where he was or how long he'd been there, nor even why we he currently hanging upside down from his ankles.
This was a fact that took a long while to make itself aware. He could feel the blood climbing up his cheeks and into his hair, a sensation that made little sense to him at first. He could see the drops of blood fall from his scalp and fly into the air above him. His mind, used to gravity-less environments, went first to a zero-g environment, until he looked down at his body, saw the restraints around his ankles and the lights in the floor. Once he realised that everything was upside down, things started to make a lot more sense. That thing that was opposite from him - the only other object in the room - was not some mechanical torture device, hanging from the ceiling, but rather a simple desk. A computer console embedded in the surface, datapads and writing utensils scattered over the top, various devices atop it, the likes of which he was, in his current state unable to decipher their purpose.
'I really need the refresher,' he said out loud. He wasn't even cognizant of having said the thought out loud until someone answered him.
'I'll have the guards escort you in just a moment.'
The voice was soft. Deep, but soft. Face blinked, realised that someone else was in the room. How long had they been there? Did I black out? He slowly moved his head and saw someone sitting in a chair beside the exit. There wasn't a chair there before, was there? He looked back at the desk. The chair had moved, he was sure of it. A black out. Yes, that was it. He'd blacked out. He focused his attention on the owner of the voice. Tanned skin. Dark hair. Chubby baby cheeks. So young. And a major, too. It was then, when he noticed the rank insignia, that he realised who he was. Major Shayde. Shayde pressed a button on his chair's console and Face felt something a tension on his wrists. Not a painful tension, just enough to keep them in place. And then, slowly, the world righted itself, slowly turning downside up, the blood rushing from his head to the rest of his body, leaving him woozy. The blood dripping into his hair retraced its steps back down his face, the act tickling him.
'Thank you,' Face said gruffly. It was strange to thank the person who had probably been torturing him - trying to recollect the act itself left only blurred images, hazy memories - but he figured it was a good idea to establish a rapport. After all, Shayde was no doubt a product of the same indoctrination that had claimed his son. How much blame could be placed on his own shoulders, after having endured a life like that?
'How old are you?' Face coughed, trying to bring some moisture into his dry mouth.
Shayde, in the middle of the act of standing, paused, to think this over. 'I think,' he mused out loud, 'twenty three? Maybe twenty four.'
'You don't even know?' Face asked incredulously. 'Do you even remember when your birthday is?'
'Oh yes,' he nodded eagerly. 'Empire Day. That was a source of much amusement among my tutors.'
'Your tutors?'
'Those who raised me. Trained me. Made me the man that I am today.'
Face shook his head, the act making him dizzy and slightly nauseated. 'Those who tortured you. Tried to erase the person you truly are. He's still in there, though. I can see it in your eyes.'
'No - well, yes. There was torture. Of a sort. I didn't mind that so much.'
'You didn't mind torture?!' Face couldn't believe his ears.
'It was only rare, and when I acted out,' Shayde poured a glass of water and stood in front of Face, holding the glass to Face's swollen lips. He drank greedily, almost gagging on the water. 'There. Feeling better? But yes, once I learned to keep my head down, learn what they taught me, things went much more smoothly.'
'Smoothly,' Face repeated dully. 'You must have been a gifted student. A major, at your age? I'm sure your parents would be so proud.'
'I'm sure,' Shayde replied, unruffled.
'Certainly you're very gifted. Accomplished. It was a stroke of genius, feeding me the information about my son, then pitting him against me, making sure that I couldn't fight back.'
'Oh, true,' Shayde moved the chair back to his table, sitting down in it. 'It was certainly a bonus, don't get me wrong. But that's not why I did it.'
'It's not?' Face frowned. 'Then why?'
'It amused me,' he said it so simply that Face had to replay the words in his head before they settled. 'Certainly, there was a strategic bonus to be had from it, but I just loved the idea of you, or one of your Nexus, killing the very thing that you'd been searching for this entire time.'
Face stared at him. 'You're a monster.'
Shayde snorted, a quiet exhalation of air. 'I learned my job well. And I learned to love what I do. What is it that they say? Love your job and you never have to work a day in your life? Don't get me wrong, it's still a job, there are days that drag. Meetings that never end. But I get to do what I love every day, I get to solve these little puzzles every day. I get to set these traps that I won't even know will succeed until the enemy drops into my lap - or dead at my feet. Either or. I don't particularly care which.'
Face stared at him, feeling the bile rising in his throat. He tried to hold it back. 'You enjoy this?'
'Oh, very much so,' Shayde smiled. He stood and walked over to Face. He tapped the control panel on the wall next to Face. His restraints disappeared and he fell hard to the floor. 'And I'm going to enjoy what comes next.'
