The Stone Heart's Lament
This will not end well

There were gunspointed at his head. Rashari stilled even as he felt the muscles in his spinetwitch with the effort it took to keep phantom wings from unfurling. Thescorpion wanted to strike, perceiving a threat and knowing only one way toreact. He was more than the monster inside him, though, and so Rashari took adeep breath, closed his eyes, and gave the scorpion a hard shove back into thepit of his soul. He counted to five before opening his eyes.

“You didn’t bring mehere to shoot me.” He told Baillargeon but his eyes were on Ruthy, verycarefully ignoring the two soldiers on either side of him, their twitchyfingers wrapped around the triggers of their guns. The Doctor might be incharge of this facility – to whatever degree of actual command that mighttranslate to in this madhouse – but Ruthy was the one with real power. It wasRuthy who took her orders from his father and Theirn Orlenaux. Ruthy had theauthority to call off the Imperial lapdogs. “I’m not doing anything wrong.” Hesaid clearly and emphatically.

“You killed that manwith your bare hand.” Ruthy sounded, if not scared than at least somewhatdisconcerted. If it didn’t run completely contrary to his needs Rashari mighthave taken some pleasure in it, as it was, the very last thing he wanted wasfor this woman to perceive him as a threat. If she did there would be no one tostop Baillargeon from dissecting him out of spite.

“I’m not the one whoturned him into a geology experiment.” Rashari shot back. “Believe me; none ofthese people are alive in any sense that matters.” He kept his hands hanging byhis sides and resisted the urge to point or gesture. The situation wasprecarious enough. “That man was dead. I didn’t do a thing. What happenedhappened because he,” and now he nodded toward Baillargeon chin jerking withall the violence he refused to let loose in any other way, “is a bloody idiotwho has no idea what he’s doing. Whatever grand plan the Empire has for thisplace, they’d better scrap it now, this bunch of half-wits and sawbonescouldn’t tell their arses from their elbows, let alone manufacture asustainable source of deific energy.”

No one had shot himyet, so the chances were fair to middling that no one would in the next fewmoments either. Rashari relaxed fractionally. Turning his attention from Ruthyhe glared at Baillargeon and the nameless female scientist standing just behindhim. “Either you turn off the machines keeping these poor bastards breathing,or I’ll put them down myself. This experimentis a failure.” He spat, mouth twisting on the word, tasting bile againstthe back of his teeth. “You won’t get a Pure Soul out of any one of them.”

“Why?” The womansurged forward, sharp face hawkish and intent, fear all forgotten in thepursuit of knowledge. “What are we doing wrong? Is it the subjects? We’ve beenusing death row convicts. Is there something in their nature which makes theminferior?”

Rashari stared at thewoman wordlessly for a long moment. Death row convicts? Gods above, this dayjust got better and better. “It’s not the subjects,” he could barely get thewords out. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry (he knew what he wanted to doand it involved blood and screaming and a smoking pile of rubble when he wasdone). “What you want is not possible.” He said very clearly. “You don’t evenknow what you want. You...you have no clue.”

He clenched his fistsand snapped his jaws closed. He knew better than to say more. Anything he saidwas a weapon these bastards could use against him, a weapon they could use toperpetrate yet another atrocity, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt like akettle on the boil, frustration bubbling up in him like the thin, high-pitchedscream of the kettle’s whistle. Why didn’t anyone understand? How could theynot see that what they were doing could never lead to anywhere good? It wasn’tabout what might be possible, or what could be accomplished – it was aboutknowing when something was a fundamentally bad idea. It was about basiccost-benefit analysis, weighing up the pros and cons, like any good raider didbefore a heist. Was the prize worth the risk taken to attain it? Once you hadthe shiny trinket could you get away with keeping it, or would you be hunteddown like a dog until the rightful owners plucked the shiny trinket from yourcold dead fingers? This reasoning was taught to the lowest of scallywags in theraider fraternity, and while there were always a few to whom ambitionoverreached ability, most of his breathren, that unwashed, illiterate violentbunch of reprobates, would have better sense than every last member of theDeLunde faculty.

“We are trying tosafeguard the future of the Empire, young man.” The woman told him, clearlystung. “What we do here will revolutionise the Adran way of life.” She lookedaround at the remaining test subjects strapped to the tables. “I admit that themeans are...less than ideal, but the ends,” she shook her head, eyes bright andfervent. “Think on it, a world without phantasma energy. Think of the livesthat will be improved. No one will have to toil and get sick in phantasma mines.The Empire won’t have to spend millions of Orlens disposing of the toxicphantasma waste. Thousands of lives will be saved because we won’t have tofight needless wars to defend our right to the world’s dwindling phantasmareserves. Surely that is an end to justify any means?”

Rashari was not theonly one in the room giving the woman a cock-eyed look. Jaquard, standing asfar back from the examination tables as the confines of the glass box allowed,was staring at the woman’s back like he was imagining watching her burn slowly ona spit. There was an ugly, violent loathing on his face that Rashari filed awayfor further consideration.

“Enough of this,”Ruthy spoke up, scowling. She jerked her chin at the two soldiers, who hadlowered their guns during the previous conversation, but had kept themunholstered. “Take the prisoner to his cell. I think he’s had enough excitementfor one day.”

“Wait,” Baillargeonbestirred himself finally, shaking free of the silent reverie he’d been in moreor less since Rashari had ended the unlife of the man on the table. “I’m notdone with him yet. There are tests to run. I have questions...”

“Oh, you are done,alright.” Ruthy shut him up, lip curling in contempt. “I don’t know whatPit-damned mess you and the rest of your eggheads have made here, but you canbe assured that it will be going in my report to Commander Orlenaux.” Shebrushed past Baillargeon, who spluttered indignantly, and swept out of the box.Her lapdogs prodded Rashari forward herding him out of the box after Ruthy.

He was marched backup the tower stairs, out of the basement and all the way up to the top of thetower. His ‘cell’ was the room at the top, narrow and windowless. The wallswere solid, curved and cold, slathered in thick white paint. There were nopipes reaching this far up and no machinery buzzing through the walls. The roomcontained a narrow bunk bolted to the wall, a sink and a toilet, and nothingmore. There was a thin, scratchy grey blanket folded at the foot of the bunkand a small square pillow that looked about as comfortable as a rock to sleepon. As far as it went this was shaping up to be one of the better prisons he’dever spent time in, which was not to say he was pleased with the accommodationon offer, but he was relieved that he wasn’t being stuck in a glass jar andpicked apart like an insect.

“I suggest you getsome sleep,” Ruthy told him, tone dry as he was shoved across the thresholdinto the room. “And try not to piss off the eggheads anymore than you havealready.” She looked at him keenly. “My orders are to stop them killing youwith their experiments, but don’t think for a moment that that means I’m onyour side.” Her lips curved in a humourless smirk. “It will be days yet beforeDirector TreLawn and the Commander get here -and accidents can happen. Afterall this is Battlan, and you spent days on the Steppe alone before I found you.You could have picked up any number of injuries out there.” Her eyes were cold.“Incapacitating injuries, the sort that could require sedation for the pain; Idon’t think you want that.”

“I see. Vivisectionis against the rules but casual brutality is not?” Rashari arched his eyebrows.“I wish I had your job.”

Ruthy smiled, stillwith an edge. “I bet you do.” She swept out of the room and one of the soldiersslammed the heavy door closed behind them. There was a peep-hole wedge cut intothe door above a larger cut-out hatch, covered by a metal grill. He caught aglimpse of an anonymous glower thrown his way before the grill was slid acrossthe peep hole. He heard the echo of at least three separate locks clicking intoplace.

He stood in themiddle of the room for several moments, just breathing. Every inhalation andexhalation sounded very loud in the silence. He wasn’t sure how long he juststood there, staring blindly at the locked door, but eventually he went over tothe bunk and lay down. He was tired but sleep was impossible. His brain wasbuzzing with the rush of death energy and now the come down. He felt vaguelynauseous, like he’d gorged on too much food which was not a pleasant analogyconsidering what he’d actually gorged on. He fidgeted on the bunk. His skinfelt tight and itchy, like it had grown a size too small. He felt like hisbones were a cage, his body a hollow cell for a monster eager to break free.The careful stitchwork that made up the guise of Rashari was beginning tostrain at the seams. He didn’t know how long he lay there, his thoughts in athousand other places, but eventually he heard the rasp of deliberatelyconspicuous footsteps on the stone floor outside his cell door. The grillacross the hatch in the door slid open and Jaquard’s yellow eyes peered at him.

“Grubs on,” the djinnrumbled laconically, pushing a tray through the hatch. Rashari got up to takeit from him, looking down at a bowl of unidentifiable grey slop, a hunk ofstale bread and something green, steamed, and slimy covered with a knob of oilybutter. (He thought they might once have been string beans.) There was aplastic spoon stuck in the bowl of grey slop. It smelled starchy. “Try thesoup.” Jaquard told him, yellow eyes fixed on his. “Think you might like it.”The hatch snapped closed and Jaquard was gone. This time Rashari could not hearhis footsteps retreating.

He set the tray downon the floor, sat cross legged before it and lifted the spoon from the bowl ofalleged soup. There was a loop of string attached to the spoon and a clothpouch dangled free. It was covered in little cubes of grey meat and the thick, viscoussoup. Rashari grimaced as he wiped the cloth pouch clean on the stone floor sothat he could open it. The inside of the pouch was lined with plastic so thecontents were protected. Digging his fingers inside Rashari palmed the dull greenish-greypiece of stone inside and stared at it for a long moment. He unfolded the notewith stiff fingers.

Help me get my son back and I will help you burnevery last one of these bastards to the ground.

The note wasn’tsigned. Rashari folded it back up, dipped it into the lumpy soup, tilted hishead back and swallowed it down, trying to avoid either chewing or tasting. Heshoved the filthy cloth pouch under the board-thin mattress of the bunk androlled the stone across his left palm thoughfully. (It was a fragment of scionstone – but was it part of Smythion’s stone, or had DeLunde found anothersecret seraph?). The fragment was not a perfect fit for the hollow in his palm.This fragment was a little larger, the edges rougher, and he could still feel atrace of residue energy from where the fragment had been taken from the chestof the dead test subject. Still. He could work with this. He’d just have to bea little inventive, and he was good at that. He rubbed the stone fragmentbetween his thumb and forefinger. There was a slight charge from the fragment,a bite of cold and hunger much stronger than he had expected. When he lookeddown at the fragment, warmed by the run of his fingers over its surface, it gleamedlike an emerald, its once opaque surface now glittering like a glass. Rashariclenched his fist around the fragment, quenching the light of deific energy. Whenhe closed his eyes he saw the darkness of the Void staring back at him. Thiswould not end well.