My knuckles throbbed. My right hand was too swollen to close. I hit that guy really hard. He would still be alive if he'd just stayed down. His own people begged him to stay on the canvas, yet somehow, he staggered to his feet. When he stood, I knocked the life out of him. How was I to know he was the governor's nephew?
"Hey Nyman, where are you taking me?"
"Shut up!" he roared.
The big Nyman stomped toward me with his fist raised threateningly over his head. I didn't want my face smashed, so I quickly closed my mouth. He snorted yellow mucus from his nose and lowered his fat arm. I and nine other men were chained together in the rear section of a dingy Nyman transport. Nymans were such foul creatures. They never bathed. Their ratty black hair and foul breath made me ill. Two large ugly ones guarded us with their punishment shockers at the ready. Each was over two meters tall and weighed at least two hundred kilograms. There was no chance of breaking free from the heavy metal chains. Even if I did break loose from the shackles, there was no place to run. I was trapped under the fat thumb of these ugly Nymans. I elbowed the prisoner next to me. In a whisper, I asked, "Hey man, where are we going?"
The pasty flesh of this poor guy was white as cotton and he trembled so badly his teeth rattled. The oozing red wound behind his right ear told me he was a bug addict. One of the little black insects had recently been plucked from his skin. What a mess he was. The best he could manage was a weak whisper.
"You were sold," he gasped. "We were all sold, doomed to hell."
"Sold? Sold to who?"
The bug addict waited until the Nymans turned their backs. He put his trembling hand over his mouth and spoke in a forced whisper. "Twisters."
"Twisters?!" I shouted.
For opening my mouth, one of the Nymans zapped me with his red-tipped shocker. "Shut the fuck up!" he roared. A blue electrical arc hit me on the ear. Searing pain jolted my body. When he pulled the tip of the shocker away, he busted me on the chin with his stone hard fist. He lowered his pockmarked face to mine and screamed. "Shut up! You stupid human."
My muscles quivered and contracted for several minutes. I clenched my teeth and kept my mouth shut. My brain was dazed. The shocker was painful, but the words of the bug addict rattled my soul. I assumed this shuttle was bound for a work colony. I thought I was headed for six months hard labor in an off-world mine. I had no idea the vindictive governor sold me to a Twister. The defeated eyes of my fellow prisoners confirmed my fears. All hope was lost for us.
After a twenty-hour flight, during which we were given no food or water, the shuttle landed on a dusty planet. The rear door opened, and the guards hustled us into the burning sunlight. We waited in a straight line for an hour, standing perfectly still. The big Nyman who punched me waited for me to open my mouth. If I uttered a word, he would have gladly shocked the life out of me. A hundred meters in front of us was a walled citadel. The heavy stone blocks had been laid in place a very long time ago. We faced two closed wooden doors built into the citadel walls. The sky was pink and there were no birds. The baking sun burned my back but we were offered no water. The trembling bug addict could hardly stand.
The two doors swung open. Four well-armed Nymans emerged, followed by a tall, thin man wearing a black cape. This man was more than old. He looked like he'd been dead for a month. His expressionless face stared straight ahead. In his hand, he carried a black whip. One by one the thin man sealed our fates. With his whip, he tapped each prisoner on the shoulder. "Farmer, farmer, farmer, miner."
When the Twister said miner, the prisoner fell to his knees and begged. I never heard a grown man utter such pathetic squeals. His face contorted into an expression of mindless terror. The unmoved Twister didn't even glance at him. The Nymans shocked the hell out of the poor bastard until he silently squirmed in the dust. The Twister continued down the line of condemned men.
"Farmer, miner, miner, farmer, trash."
The thin man stopped when he came to me. He put his grotesque face right next to mine. The odor of his rotten breathe turned my stomach. His cold, empty eyes absorbed the light, like small black holes. The yellow bones of his face were visible through his drawn grey skin. Thin blue veins ran along the top of his forehead and down his neck. He was a walking corpse. The Twister tapped me on the shoulder.
"Fighter," he announced.
The Twister returned to the citadel while the Nymans unchained us. Everyone except the bug addict was ordered to march into the city walls. While I walked through the open doors, I heard the loud crack of a pulse rifle. The bug addict trembled no more.
The inside of the fortress was full of metal cages, stacked at least ten stories high. The hot air was still and the stench horrid. The cells were filled with all manner of creatures, many human, others not. Some vainly beat their heads against the bricks; some writhed on the floor clutching their stomachs, while others stared hopelessly through the bars. The guards separated us into groups: farmers, miners, and me. The miners and farmers were escorted down separate hallways. A Nyman, with a nasty scar on his chin, led me up a flight of stairs. He was bigger and meaner than the others. He enjoyed ramming the tip of his rifle into my back.
"You're fucked human," he taunted in his deep Nyman voice. "You should have killed yourself."
Nine levels up; he shoved me down a row of dank cells. With the tip of his rifle, he pushed me toward the end of walkway. "Hurry up!" he barked.
I stopped and whirled around. "Drop the weapon, fat boy. We'll see how brave you are."
For a second, he considered my challenge, and then he put the tip of the barrel under my chin. He stared at me with his black eyes. "I don't have time to kill stupid humans. Hurry up!"
All the cells were empty, except the next to the last one. In the dim light, I saw green fingers wrapped around the black metal bars. I had to strain my eyes; I could barely see her in the faint light. She was human, or at least had been. Her skin was a pale green. Around her mouth, and the ends of her fingers, the green was darker. She had short, thick, black hair. Her large eyes were oval and bright yellow. We exchanged a quick glance. When she realized I was human, she timidly extended her fingers toward me. The guard slammed the butt of his rifle against the bars forcing her to jump back. The Nyman opened the last cage and shoved me inside. The heavy metal bars slammed shut. I yelled at the pig as he walked away. "Hey Nyman! Give me some water!"
"Don't worry stupid human, you'll be dead by morning," he shouted back.
I inspected the dirty cage and immediately realized there was no escape. Even if I could get free of the cell, I had nowhere to go. I was about to flop on the filthy bed, when I saw her green arm stretch through the bars. Her palm was open, her inviting fingers waving in the air.
"Over here, I'm over here," she softly called.
I extended my arm between the cold bars. When I did, she rested her hand on my mine. Our palms came together. When I squeezed her hand, she squeezed back.
"What is your name?" I asked.
"Cheval," she replied softly.
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. She quickly pulled her hand away. The scar-faced Nyman returned with his master, the black robed Twister. I had never actually seen a Gene Twister, but I'd heard of them. Most advanced races built machines; the Twisters build organisms. Sometimes they created an entirely new creature. Other times they toyed with the DNA of a living specimen. The prisoners who arrived with me would be twisted into specialized slaves. They would be perverted into mindless automatons and sold at auction to the highest bidder. My fate would be no better. The big Nyman unlocked my cage. "Stand still!" he barked.
The Twister inspected me like I was a thoroughbred pony. He poked my arms with his white, bony fingers. From his black robe, he removed a small hypo, filled with dark red fluid.
"Stick out your arm!" the Nyman ordered.
"Fuck you!" I spat into his ugly face.
I didn't notice the red baton in the Twister's hand. He pointed the stick at my neck and pressed a black button. There was a sharp crack followed by a bolt of electricity. The force of the shock lifted me off my feet and hurled me into the wall. The contents of my stomach flew from my mouth, and I defecated in my pants. While I squirmed on the floor, the Twister jammed the hypo into my arm. The Nyman kicked me hard in the ribs. "Stupid human," he said in disgust.
They left me shaking and quivering on the damp stone floor. My stomach cramped, and I could barely breathe. A terrible, paralyzing pain penetrated every fiber of my body. Each passing second magnified my torment. My throat seized, and I couldn't suck air into my lungs. My vision narrowed, and I thought I was going to die. Just when I imagined all was lost, I heard her voice softly call to me. "Over here, I'm over here."
Cheval's hand was waving between the bars. I dragged myself to the front of the cell and thrust out my arm. She tightly seized my hand.
"Hold on, you'll be alright," she promised.
She caressed my hand and told me what to do. "Breathe," she said. "You must breathe."
My jaws were locked shut, but I managed to draw air in through my nose. In my veins, I felt the Twister's vile chemicals doing their work, perverting and changing me. My stomach and the rest of my insides knotted and convulsed. Wave after wave of pain rocked through me. As violently as I jerked, Cheval never let go of my hand. Whenever the pain subsided, I called for her.
"Cheval, are you still there?"
In a soft voice, she always answered, "I'm here."
)
