Bronze Burning

SPOTTED CAT

5

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SPOTTED CAT

Days pass, or near enough. There is no way to tell in the darkness.

I focus my rage in the tenets of the Blood Tide. Tales of Hayashizaki Shigenobu had inspired my forefathers. The resulting kravat required uncommon speed and bravery, making a bloody sacrament of a single killing draw. I imagine Jiminy in front of me, his head hacked off at the neck. The Violet isn't worthy prey, but I long for the sight.

I have reached the eleventh pass through the formwork of my art when I give in to overwhelming exhaustion.

Sleep overcomes my fury. I dream of Clodia, of Liber and Xander. They wait on the far bank of the river Styx, dead of eye and cold of hand. They welcome me, their father, their benefactor, for I wear the face of Otho au Virius and have become him. I wake from the dream sweat-slicked, tears leaking from my eyes. There is no afterlife, I remind myself. This brutal existence is the closest I'll come to a heaven.

Sleep only finds me again after I've wept for grief.

My mouth is a desert and hunger gnaws my stomach. A small ventilation shaft circulates the smell of the piss and shit from one corner. Periodically, I escape the growing stench in lotus position, my mind drifting through constructs of far-flung space only to return to my bitter reality.

The Syndicate will not let me die in here. Theft among thieves is a grave infraction. I am to be made an example of, or sold to Otho au Virius, the bounty on my head claimed. But only after they have tortured Clodia's holdings out of me.

I lament the path I have taken. I thought to fight for survival, to honor my ancestors and secure a future. For Caecilli. But there is no future. Revenge has eaten me. My name. My being. All I have ever been, or ever could hope to be.

My life is forfeit, but I won't go quietly. The vault door will open, those precious few seconds my last, and with every stride and every breath I will shout my defiance into the abyss, murdering my captors with bare hands until I am slain.

Time grows long, an endless, desperate night. The fan thunders in my ears for the silence. But at last, I hear noises beyond the thick steel.

I scramble into Clodia's pulseArmor, ignoring my weak and trembling hands. Its battery is drained, but I put the suit on. The metal will protect against some weapons.

Speed will be my ally in the bottlenecked corridor beyond, clearing the gateway, capturing the first attacker I see. He will become my shield, his weapons mine. And then I must purchase my ending in blood.

Cli-click.

The automatic lock pops, the impenetrable vault door retracting. The light is blinding. Can't see, but I rush the gap all the same.

A force catches me, lifting me from my feet to slam me onto the marble. StunPikes jam into my back, arcing blue current that robs me of motor control. I twist like a wild thing until some monster kneels on my spine. An Obsidian hand presses a respirator over my face.

The world goes blissfully blank.

---

When I wake, I find that I have missed something important. It is not Jiminy who has captured me.

Clear water laps at the white sand I've been dumped on, soaking into my liner. Clodia's armor is gone and the air hums with the oppressive vibration of a jamField. My vision blurs with the remnant tendrils of the gas they forced on me. I'm dying of hunger and thirst, but I push myself to my feet with manacled hands to gain perspective.