Chapter 3.3

"Done with the others yet?" The voice came from in front of him. The speaker's black shoes were highly polished, made of hard synthetic leather. His pants were grey, with a single violet line down the side. He was a private. No wonder he sounds so young, Marek thought. The silver barrel of his rifle wavered at the edge of his vision.

"Almost." The second voice, filtered through gravel, came from a distance behind him. "Just the one left. What a mess. It looks like he put his face in a turbine. And the Captain wants him cleaned up." With his ear forcibly pressed to the pavement, Marek could hear the sound of footfalls approaching. "Did you hear that?" The gruff voice was closer. Pain burst across his lower back. "You made a bloody mess, you animal."

"Wha -" Marek started, and pain pressed through his neck. He was strangely surprised. The pressure had been so constant, he'd almost forgotten about the one holding him down. As he quieted, the pressure relaxed and the one holding him down retreated back to anonymity.

"Why?" The black shoes shifted with the private's question.

"Why what?" The gruff voice must have retreated once more. I guess I was too distracted to notice, he mused, as waves pulsed through his back.

"Why does Lukin want them cleaned up?"

"Irkalla only knows. Appearances?" The voice seemed eager to leave. "Why'd we break it up in the first place?" Marek could feel vibrations as he walked away.

"Good point," the private muttered to himself a time later.

...

I wonder how Linden and Lewis are. One of those Sudders was huge. Lewis was good in a fight, but Linden... The private was shifting his weight from foot to foot in front of him. And you think that YOU want to get out of here? Marek closed his eyes. He'd seen Deefas. That was probably who they meant. What happened, anyway? Marek closed his eyes. Of all days for this to happen... Do they know?

"...him up?" Linden's shrill voice cut through his thoughts. It came from the direction of his feet. So he was okay. Marek opened his eyes. The private's feet had shifted towards Linden's direction.

"When we feel like it." The private's voice and shoes returned to face Marek. "He's a looner all right. He took a punch from that monster and the lunatic still chased the other one down and tried to kill him. Would have, if not for us. You see his eyes?" The pressure on Marek's neck shifted. The private's voice trailed off. "Crazy, this one..."

"Dad Sudder shudda ran fasder. Dondjoo thingk?" Marek started. A low grunt followed from directly above him, the pressure on his neck pulsing with the sound.

The private chuckled. "Nice impression, Sorkin. I was starting to wonder if you were even awake over there."

"Shud'idjoo, yer magin' me bludge."

...

He was probably safe. They just thought he was crazy. They didn't know that he blacked out. If they did... If they told... What would happen? You know what would happen. Meat. Marek exhaled deeply. The shoes in front of him had droplets on them. Great. Rain. This is just getting better.

"What about the kid?" Lewis' voice cut through the silence. He was behind him somewhere. I'm not surprised. Lewis is always fine.

"What about him?" It was the gruff voice. He must be the ranking officer.

"Why didn't you help him?"

"Not our job." Marek could almost hear the dismissive gesture with the rifle in the officer's tone.

"But this was?" Lewis was calm but insistent. Why DID they interfere? Marek was puzzled. ARC didn't usually get involved.

"Mind your business. Or maybe we'll take you in to see the League." The edge in his voice and his words silenced Lewis. He was tough, but he wasn't stupid. No one went to see the League and came back.

...

It was quiet. He couldn't hear Lewis and Linden anymore. Small puddles of water had formed on the shoes in front of him. Marek's hands were damp. The water seemed to darken the blood on his hands. What are they going to do with me? The sound of footfalls approached him from behind, as if in answer to his thoughts.

"We're going to let you up." The gruff officer was back. "If you make any trouble, you'll be back down again. And you just might not get back up." The officer paused, his words hanging ominously in the air. "Do you know what I'm saying?"

"Yes, I und-" His words were cut off by intense pressure on his neck. Sharp pain erupted in the back of his knee. Kigal! Another kick. The footfalls retreated alongside the pressure holding him down.

Marek tested his neck. It was free. He rolled onto his back, bringing one hand up behind his head. He could see the private now. He was a few paces back. Young. A Primer. And more importantly, he could see his laser rifle. The muzzle was pointed at his chest. The other one, the Primer who had held him down was a private as well. Sorkin. I'll remember that name. He was much bigger. His rifle was at rest, slung over his shoulder. Marek tested his arms. They were stiff. He sat up, and rubbed his shoulders, leaving streaks of red behind.

He got to his feet. As he stood, he felt like his knee was going to give out. Selawa. What a day. He brought his eyes to examine the young private. As their gaze locked, the Primer's eyes hardened. He motioned Marek towards the line with a sharp nudge of his rifle. "Get moving."

Marek turned. Lewis and Linden were a distance off, standing near the end of the line. The kid was bent over opposite them. Marek hobbled towards the others. The pain in his knee was started to ebb. No lasting damage, at least.

As he approached the others, the kid looked up. He was still a dozen meters away, but he could see... something. There was something in his eyes. Shock? The kid smiled at him. But there was something forced about it. Is he nervous? Was I that frightening? The kid turned back towards Lewis and Linden. He ran up to Lewis, gave him a hug, and then scurried away, back towards the city.

Marek hobbled closer. Linden had turned towards Lewis and was mouthing something. He could just make out a whisper. "...happened to him?" Lewis just shook his head. He could feel the eyes of others in the line crawling over him.

"Are you okay?" Lewis voiced his concern once he'd drawn up to them. Linden just stared, shivering.

"Yeah. Don't worry." I'm worried enough for all of us, Marek thought.