Hullo there Sparks!
HAPPY NEW YEAR! And a very merry unbirthday to you all!
WOW! I’m still at it. Still writing.
This is still exciting. And believe me, the semi-break has increased my anticipation for the notifications on that little bell a hundredfold, for every week that has passed since I last read your thoughts.
I’ve seen a bunch of people are reintroducing themselves, making content calendars and sharing their plans and hopes and setting goals this week.
New Years’ is for many people a fresh start I suppose. I’ve always felt that way too, but I didn’t really plan for anything like that so I’m going to try throwing one together last minute, which I don’t like doing, but posting one in a couple weeks when I am ‘ready’ is probably not worth the effort.
Okay… I could tell you guys a little about me, I suppose.
I am a mommy, I have two girlies, and my husband is a farmer. We all live in sunny South Africa. I like winter, and spring and autumn. Summer is the worssssst! Late summer most, because the dry heat kind of bleeds all the color from the world. And color is so colorful. I started writing in my late teens. I’ve never published anything anywhere else, but it’s going pretty well here so I may be looking into remedying that at some point, probably not soon though. And that’s as much personal detail as you, my dear Sparks, are going to get out of me.
As for my plans, I’ve promised an audio version, which I plan to work on more as my life settles into a more predictable pattern. I still want to do the virtual guestbook thing. And I also want to expand on my character profiles a bit more. Besides finishing up this story, as the year wends its merry way, and after that, well who knows?
And if you’ve been following for a while, you’ll know that I have at least three other stories to tell in this world once we are done with Misty and Logan.
I’ve been thinking for a while about what Bottled Embers means to me. What it is exactly. I have realized that it leans towards a certain theme. These Bottled Embers are the things I think about, what takes up space in my mind.
This ‘stack is all about the embers in my bottle, which makes it kind of a sucky thing to name my story, which makes me think that I am probably going to have to officially rename this story something else at some point. Bottled Embers, is going to have to do for now though. Rolls off the tongue nicely enough, doesn’t it? Appropriate since it is so much about these two characters’ thoughts and feelings. The things going on inside their brain bottles…
Anyway, as for the story, here we have the start of our Chapter Six!
I know I said twelve chapters, but this is kind of the halfway mark in terms of the story, and believe me, I’m throwing you guys in at the deep end. Last time we saw Logan carrying Elle (Misty) up to the northern tower, to Luke’s specially equipped interrogation room. Guess why?
Also, because I’m nice, I’ll remind you that it’s a new chapter, which means brand-new graphics. I hope you like them as much as I do.
INDEX | Chapter 6 | Scenes 1 & 2 | Next Scene →
Previously: When Luke’s slow progress with Elle is no longer enough to satisfy the PG he starts to lose his support from the Authority. Out of frustration, they start taking interventions making Luke’s life decidedly uncomfortable and eventually, Luke is forced to take action.
Elle is on the table. Whatever it is Luke had me dose her with, it's taken full effect. Even though it’s only been a few minutes since the injection. She moans, rolling her head from side to side, batting the air with her hands and moving her legs weakly as though she were in the grip of some nightmare. If her movements were any bigger I might worry that she’d fall off, but it doesn't look likely.
Luke sits in the chair in the corner, cracks the seal on his little amber glass bottle of Fire, and pours the dark yellow contents into the tumbler, adding an equal measure of the blue-labeled whiskey. It seems to be very free-flowing, sloshing around with the least movement and gives off a slight whiteish glow in the fluorescent light. After a moment I notice, the two liquids mingle and swirl but don’t really mix.
Luke isn’t moving so I take the opportunity to check out, ‘The Room’ as he so ominously calls it. I've been in here only once before, during my time with the PG interrogations, and back then it all happened so fast there wasn’t time to appreciate the genius in the design.
It’s basically a vault, small, barely three by four meters, and as far as I know, specially built according to Luke’s specs by a discreet contractor for the Planetary Guard, years before Tom and I were even born. It’s in the original part of the Manor that survived Elle’s explosion and the rebuild. It was made to contain anything and the only way in or out is through the phasing wall.
The science behind the mechanism that allows the wall to phase is pretty simple, and uses a concept that is quite widely applied in various places all over the world. A powerful engine creates vibrations that cause the molecules to resonate at super-high speeds. The forcefield framing keeps it all in position, but while it’s vibrating, you can just walk right through as if the wall were dust, then when the vibration stops everything goes back to solid. It’s not very safe to stand in for long periods but otherwise, an ingenious mechanism, for securing sensitive or valuable items.
The special thing about this one is the triggering mechanism. There’s no control panel. It can only be activated by sending an energetic pulse of a very specific frequency through the forcefield. A specific frequency that Luke only shared with me in case something goes wrong here and he is out of action.
The inside is designed to make Luke’s job as easy as possible. There’s no adornment anywhere. The metal walls are brushed to minimize glare from the blindingly bright lights along the dropped ceiling, which is painted a flat grey to match the sturdy and spartan furniture.
The table is made of the same metal as the walls. It looks almost like a large altar, with a small circular depression for the subject’s head and slots for restraints at various positions. There’s also the chair Luke is sitting in, a high stool at the head of the table, and a cabinet containing various equipment.
“Now what?” I ask, after about five minutes. Luke is still swirling the drink in his hand as if he still hopes the two liquids will combine. He sips it deeply, and makes an unpleasant face, before answering.
“The sedative should clear soon. That catalyst is a double-edged sword.” He says almost whimsically then takes another long sip.
“Double-edged? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Works faster, wears off faster.”
“How long do we have to wait? You don’t need to like put up a drip or something?” I ask, wondering if she is lucid, she isn’t moving at all anymore.
“It’ll only be a few more minutes, maybe a half hour at most.” He says. One more sip.
“What’s that?” I ask indicating the almost empty glass.
“Oh, just a little something I used to cook up often in my younger days. Long before I met your father. A ‘lubricant’ of sorts. Solves many problems.” He says smiling ironically and downs the last shot, pouring another dram of whiskey almost in the same movement. His hands are shaking.
“Luke, you should know…” I begin and he looks up at me as if he knows exactly what I am about to say. “Whatever it is you’ve planned here… I can’t help. I mean with my empathy. I… won’t.” I relate, looking at my boots. Luke pours himself another drink, raises the glass, and inclines his head in a toast.
I stand in the far corner, to give him as much space as possible. He seems anxious rather than angry. He pours another and gulps it down as if he is just trying to wash a foul taste from his mouth. The whisky bottle is half empty already. After a few more minutes, he just sits, holding the tumbler, resting his elbows on his knees. Elle seems to have calmed down a bit. I wonder if she’s asleep. With everyone so still, the motion-activated lighting clicks off. For a second I consider moving to reactivate it, but since we are waiting anyway there doesn’t seem to be much point. Darkness seems more appropriate to the situation we find ourselves in any way.
* * *
The light clicks on, blinding everyone for a second when Luke puts his glass down on the cabinet. The square whiskey bottle is almost empty. Something has shifted in the atmosphere. Luke is no longer himself. I’ve never seen him drunk, for a start. He always seems so fully in control, now he sways slightly, pushing to his feet. But the feeling I get is more than intoxication. There is a dark aura about hanging him, so thickly it’s almost tangible.
“It’s time.” He says in an unusual tone, and I flinch at the sound. His voice still holds its usual light inflection, but something is colder, and harsher there, and it’s lost the hypnotic smoothness that always seems to set everyone at ease.
I’ve heard stories about Luke’s ‘lubricant.’ That it changes him. It sharpens his talents while making him less… human. I don’t know where he gets it. I’ve never seen him use it, but those who have, say it turns him into quite the sociopath. Looking at him now, opening up my empathy to the best of my unrefined ability, it’s like he’s a different person. There’s none of the pain and regret, for what he has to do that he felt a little while ago. He isn’t conflicted or uncertain. Right now, it feels more like some perverse boredom.
Elle is definitely awake, even though she’s not moving. Her feelings swing from paralyzing fear to blinding rage all mixed up in a mess of grief and anguish that’s almost too painful to let in.
Luke looks straight at me, wearing a sardonic grin and I hear “Restrain her.” His lips didn’t move and Elle hasn't reacted, but the order is almost a compulsion, and yet I didn’t even perceive him extending his influence.
“Luke?” I frown, wondering if I am imagining the urge to tie Elle down.
“You heard me.” He says, stepping up onto the stool.
“She isn't going to like it much,” I say, trying to delay the impulse.
“She isn't going to like what I have to do much either. I'd rather have her uncomfortable than harm her permanently by holding on too tightly.” The sarcasm has turned sadistic now, and the smile on his face, says as much as the words that are forcefully implanted in my head leave out. I can resist no longer.
I walk over to the cabinet, take out a couple of lonsdaleite fiber straps, and start lacing them into their slots on the table.
“That's not how I meant, Logan,” he whispers menacingly in the back of my mind. My hands freeze and the straps hang limply.
“No.” I try to resist it, but I can already feel the friction in my fingertips. “You can't expect me to do that to her.”
“Don't test me, Logan. This is the only reason you’re still here. Testing me now wouldn't be wise.“
“Enough! You know how I feel about you being in my head.”
“Oh, so sorry. I didn't realize it was such a problem,” He chuckles under his breath. This is getting dangerous. If I'm not careful...
“Please, Luke. This isn't necessary. If you told her what you wanted I'm sure she wouldn't resist.” I plead, knowing my point is moot. We already gave her that chance.
“Just do it, Logan.” He sighs exasperated. “I can make you do it if I have to.” The glint in his eyes suggests that he might enjoy seeing me try to resist him in this state.
“Luke, pleas-” I start to beg again, feeling him flexing my fingers without my permission.
“If that's the way you wanna play this, then...” He grimaces, then lifts my left foot and steps.
“No! No.” I say, unsure if it is Elle’s fear making my heart race or my own. Forgive me, Elle. “I'll do it.”
It’s getting really hard to move, and I can’t see clearly anymore. I could have sworn we just walked through a solid wall. Logan puts me down on a cold metal table in the middle of a strange room. I know that I’m lying still but it feels like the metal beneath me is vibrating. Or maybe it’s me that’s vibrating. I can’t summon any energy and it feels like my Penance just ratcheted up to three times the level it was this morning, and it’s worsening by the minute. My muscles refuse to work together enough to even attempt an escape. What in the world did you dose me with?
I hear ice tinkling against glass and there is a smell like sweets and alcohol. Luke and Logan are discussing something. I can hear their voices but the words echo and stretch into moans and squeaks, and then there is only quiet, and the light goes off.
The darkness sends my already overwhelmed senses, skyrocketing. My pounding heartbeat is deafening. The stink of the alcohol is nauseating. My skin feels like it’s on fire and the growing beads of sweat are like ice, clinging to me, dripping down in cold runnels. Logan and Luke’s energy signatures are gone, it feels like I am all alone, and I can feel my every internal sense with painful intensity, and the energy inside me is burning me up. It hurts so much I can hardly breathe anymore.
How could I be so stupid!? I knew that something was coming. I knew that Luke had head-hacker skills. How could I let him corner me?! How could I let them drug me? How could I let my guard down so much that this is even a possibility?! I’m so stupid! I wish Chrys was here! The one person I could trust in this entire universe is dead because of me and now I’m in the clutches of another hacker. Stupid, stupid stupid!
The light comes on, and I’m blind. I can’t even blink quickly to shield my eyes. Someone says, “It’s time.” It has to have been Luke but he sounds odd. His voice is too deep, harsh and gravelly. I try to crane my neck to see but the muscles won’t work.
"Llluuuuke?" Logan says uncertainly. as if he misheard an instruction.
“-u hear…. dmmm -e.” Luke tells him softly.
"Sssshheee iiiis…n't goiiii- nnngto liiiik… tmmmu-" Logan moans, I can’t make it out.
Luke doesn’t speak again. I only hear Logan. After a second or two of silence, Logan walks over to the cabinet, takes out some long woven straps and starts slotting them into the table. Halfway through he stops, closes his eyes and sighs, shaking his head. “Yoooouu… -an't e- e-e-expppec… to dooooo… -er.”
Luke is beside me now. He looks sternly at Logan, then he just looks bored. Logan is angry and shouts something about his head. I can’t focus, past my own energy bottling up inside me. Ugh! This is exhausting! I close my eyes for a moment and clear my mind and breathe and all else fades away. When I look up again, an evil light flashes across Luke's face. Logan steps back almost instantly and then looks at the ground, clenching his jaw.
A few more heartbeats pass, he says softly, "No! No, I'll do it."
I blink. I heard it clearly. Logan drops the strap and puts his hands together, rubbing them slowly. I can see better now. The pain seems to be easing, I can just sense the energy.
Logan touches my wrists and ankles. He puts a hand on my forehead, another on my chest. I can feel the heat of his energy where he touches. And I realize that something else has to be wrong. My heart breaks. The way I’m feeling, the block on my energy, the fact that I have no awareness of Luke’s talents…
Suddenly the calmness I had managed to cultivate, the surety that they wouldn't hurt me, all the trust I had built up over the past half cycle, all of it shattered. It can’t be that… Then Luke put his hands on either side of my head.
"Trust will break you," Teag always said. He had been right all along.
Next Time: Logan and Luke have Elle inside the room in the northern tower and the interrogation has started, but what is this sudden realization that has broken Misty’s heart? And what will Luke find out from his trip into her head?
P.S. I’m not sure I’m up to speed yet, still sorting some start of year stuff out. I’m not promising anything for Tuesday, but I’ll try my best.
Thanks so much for reading! If you like, please:
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and as always, I love hearing what you think so, feel free to:
Good stuff in here today! I was able to completely visualize and immerse myself in the room watching Luke. Welcome back !
Fun, fun you say! I must say, this apparent betrayal and collateral forced betrayal gives me pause to reexamine how I see these two characters. There has been enough literal and implied warning about Luke's dark side that it's not a complete surprise for him to apparently go there. How he gets past his compunction or conscience is probably not unique, but was a little surprise. How he manipulated Logan (and seeing if he would have the courage to resist is possibly a bit of a test) was pretty brutal, but does give Logan a defense against his own internal recrimination by telling himself he was forced.
Of course you constructed another fine cliffhanger, so I don't have a clue where this story goes next. With Elle now apparently so harshly betrayed again, and assuming she survives, how does she not plan pain and suffering to be visited on those she trusted? The only saving grace would be if this interrogation is a complete sham, and I have toyed with hoping that is the case. But I don't think so at this point.
Oh Jenny, see how you make me suffer!