The Time Voyager's Obsession

Duplicity - I

   *Trigger warning: this chapter contains physical violence and is intended for a mature audience only    

      Time crept by slowly in the mines, and Var never returned as he had promised. Hana worried for him as she chipped away at the thick, glacial ice, her arms and shoulders aching from the effort. Had he been apprehended by one of the guards? Had he failed to find a new pair of utility gloves? Was he slowly freezing to death, exposed to the elements? Her questions went unanswered, the silence filled by the steady metallic ding of her pick. 

     Minutes turned into hours and hours dragged on into eternity, until at last the day shift was at an end. Every part of Hana’s body was sore and strained. Her back felt like a twig, likely to snap if she added one more block of ice to the robotic collection cart. When the alarm finally sounded, calling her toil to an end, she had never felt more relieved to go back to her cell. 

     As soon as she crossed the threshold of D14, Hana collapsed onto her bunk and fell fast asleep, still bundled within the layers of her polar suit. It seemed that she had only just closed her eyes when a voice sounded on the intercom.  

     “Prisoner No. 312546,” private Benson addressed her formally, a hard look etched into the youthful lines of his face, “by order of the warden, you are to report to this facility’s Personal Hygiene and Maintenance Services. Remove your polar suit and accessories and insert your wrists through the service hatch.”

     Personal Hygiene and Maintenance Services. What in all hells could that mean? Hana suspected nothing good. Stripping out of her polar gear, she rose to do Benson’s bidding.  

     When the electromagnetic cuffs had been returned to her wrists, he addressed her once more. “You are to remain two steps behind me at all times. Do not make any sudden movements. Keep your hands where I can see them,” he slid his key card through the door lock before performing the required optical scan. The doors slid open and he motioned for her to follow. 

     She did so reluctantly, fearful for what new trial awaited her. 

     Entering behind him into a waiting elevator, Hana shifted nervously on her feet. It descended to the basement level, only a single floor down from Camp D. They exited into a white hallway, illuminated in an unsettling green glow. Hygiene and Maintenance Services scrolled in a holographic screen above the entrance. 

     To each side, the corridor was lined with closed doors, the word occupied flashing in bright green letters above the individual keypads. At its end, the private turned to the last doorway on the right, its red light flashing the word vacant. He slid his key card through, waiting to hear the panel beep before opening the door. He gestured for her to enter, following in behind her. 

     The room was coated from top to bottom in white tile, the floors sloping down to a  drain like the one in her cell. The stark lighting looked like that of a surgery or dental office, multiple chairs positioned towards the front of the room. Hana’s eyes fell upon the lit one, a large bot hovering above it. Instead of jointed fingers, its digits were made of blades. Before she could turn to run, the private had her by the shoulders. 

     “Don’t do anything stupid. You’ll regret it later. I thought I told you to keep your head down? Now he wants to teach you a lesson; if not this, it will be another. It’s only hair. It will grow back in time. Teeth are not so easy to replace, understand?” he whispered under his breath before releasing her shoulders. 

     Hana swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. After all that she had suffered, hair was a silly thing to cry over, yet the tears fell anyway. She had not cut her hair since childhood, the tight ringlets trailing well down her back. Hana turned and walked towards the chair, sinking down in resignation. The last time she had ignored the private’s advice, she had paid for it dearly. Hana would not make the same mistake twice.

***

     Hana ran her fingers tentatively over the tightly knit weave of her cropped hair. Bunches of coarse curls lay in piles at her feet, the bot’s sudden movements sending them sweeping across the tile floor. She could not remember her hair ever having been so short. What remained could not be longer than an inch in length, rough whirls bristling beneath her touch. 

     Her tears had ceased flowing by then, replaced by a strange sense of emptiness. Everything that she had been, down to the waving lengths of her hair, was gone, stripped away. It left her hollowed, her identity a shallow husk filled with nothing. If she was no longer Hana, then who was she? 

     “Maintenance complete,” the bot hummed with electrical satisfaction as it vacuumed the remainder of Hana’s hair from her person. Despite the machine’s efforts, her skin still itched terribly. The coarse fragments of her sheared mane had embedded themselves in her clothing and clung to her brows and eyelashes. She scratched at her head, freeing some of the remnants from her scalp, watching as they spiraled down to gather on the tile. 

     “I couldn’t get you shower access tonight, but I’ll see if I can get you a token for tomorrow morning,” the private whispered under his breath, gesturing for her rise from the chair. 

     Hana followed him out, searching for anything reflective in which she might catch a glimpse of her appearance. They boarded the elevator once more, rising quickly to Camp D, one floor above. She glanced at the panel of buttons to private Benson’s right, briefly catching her distorted image mirrored within the brass. She could tell little, her face appearing long and gaunt, hollow pits staring out from where her eyes should have been. 

     “Come on,” Benson said, nudging her forward. 

     Hana stepped from the elevator, rounding the corner back to block F. It was as quiet as ever, the dark cells gathered along the hallway like silent sentinels. The private returned her to D-14, waiting until she had made her way to the bed before dousing the lights. 

     She sat at its edge in the darkness, the emptiness washing over her like a wave. She wanted to sleep, to allow her body a brief escape from the cell’s confines, but it was impossible with the tiny splinters poking into her at all angles. If she lay upon her duffle or blanket, the hairs would bury into them as well, depriving her of what little comfort she was afforded. Sleep unattainable, Hana sat shivering in the darkness, waiting for private Benson or breakfast to arrive. 

     She had not eaten since her early morning visit to the mess hall, and the rumbling of her stomach had turned into an acute ache. She wondered if starvation was yet another of the Warden’s cruel manipulations, though in truth she hardly knew how much time had passed since her ordeal in the ice mines. 

     There was no reference for time within the prison’s walls, no light source to mark the minutes from the hours. Had she only passed a single full day within Mala Fide, or could it have been longer? Hana rubbed at her aching temples, feeling lightheaded and irritable. Only a little over twenty-four hours within the prison’s walls, and she was already losing her grip on reality. At such an accelerated rate, Filo would have her broken within the week. 

     Hana shaded her eyes against the sudden glare of fluorescent light illuminating her cell. As though conjured by her fear, she turned to see Filo Belias standing just beyond the Bioscreen. He nodded his head at something the guard said, his blue eyes fixing upon her as the doors swung wide. Hana rose to her feet as he entered, her fingers balling into tight fists.

     “Hana,” he moaned in horror, “what have they done to you?” He closed the distance between them, arms outstretched to embrace her. Without thinking Hana reared back, bringing her fist across Filo’s jaw with a satisfying c***k. A flood of adrenaline coursed through her veins, numbing the pain in her split knuckles. He stumbled back in shock, an angry welt forming where she had bruised the bone beneath.

     “What have they done to me?” she spat as a guard rushed to restrain her, “This is your doing, Filo Belias! Don’t think that I will ever forget that, or forgive it! You’re pathetic!” 

     “No!” Filo cried as the guard forced Hana to her knees, “No, let her go! These things are to be expected, given her condition. Who's in charge here?” He asked haughtily, swiping a hand through his mussed hair.

     “The Warden, Sir,” the guard answered nervously, releasing her from his grasp, “General Oswell Larson.” 

     “My father and I will be having a word with the Ethics Board regarding General Larson’s gross abuse,” Filo snapped, turning his attention back to Hana. 

     He knelt down before her, brows knit in remorse, “I’m so sorry Hana, had I known-”

     “Don’t waste your breath,” she snarled, eyes brimming with hatred. Filo sighed, rising to his feet to stare down at her. 

     “I can see that quite a bit of damage has been done here. As your acting supervisor, I was concerned when I received no video confirmation of your arrival or cell accommodations. A month was too long to wait for an assurance of your safety. I came as soon as I could. I’m sorry it wasn’t soon enough. I’m sure, given your situation, the council will reconsider their ruling. We can call it time served and you can fulfill the remainder of your sentence under house arrest back at the Eastern Borough,” he smiled faintly, “I’ll even see to it that you receive a permit to continue your work in the archives. I know how important it is to you. Things can go back to normal, just as they were.”    

     “You’re delusional if you think I’m going anywhere with you,” Hana sneered, “Don’t you get it, Filo? Things are never going to be how they were. I’m never going to be the girl that I was. I hate you. With every fibre of my being, I hate you. You make me physically ill, my skin crawls at the very thought of you. There is nowhere I could go in all of the universe that would be far enough away from you.”

     He absorbed her words like a sponge, blinking rapidly. His eyes fell away from her and he swallowed hard. “I’m sorry to hear you say that, Hana, truly. I had hoped...” his voice trailed off and he scanned the chamber as though looking for something lost. 

     “I had hoped to spare you some suffering,” Filo continued, his voice taking on a hard edge, “but perhaps you need more time, a little perspective. I leave at dawn, with or without you. I would urge you to consider what your life here would look like without my,” he paused, “intervention.”  Turning on his heel he stalked away from her, the guard following at his back. The lights powered off, plunging Hana back into darkness. 

     “You son of a b***h,” Hana whispered under her breath. “You son of a b***h!” she cried to the air, her curse bouncing off the walls of the empty chamber. She slammed her palms against the floor, a primal scream tearing from her chest. Burying her face into the bend of her elbow she rocked on the floor, letting the tears fall freely. Hana did not realize that she had slept until she awoke to the hissing of the drain. 

     “Hana,” Var’s frantic whisper emanated from the pipes, “You alright?” Hana swiped the back of her hand over her nose, sniffling. She did not feel like talking to anyone, not even to Var. There was no point in sharing her misery. She had made her decision and her fate was sealed. 

     “Hey kid, come on… answer damn it!” he called out desperately.   

     “I’m still here,” Hana replied wearily. 

     “What happened? Heard screaming… those bastards hurt you?” Var asked, the promise of violence darkening his tone.

     “I need to rest, Var,” she said hoarsely, turning her back to the drain.

     “Hey, hang in there… don't give up yet… trust me,” he pleaded. Hana had never believed the strange prisoner could save her to begin with. She certainly was not inclined to trust him after all that she had suffered. She would never allow herself to trust anyone so easily again. They would have to earn it.    

     “Be ready,” Var’s words echoed with mysterious intensity. “Whatever happens, don’t leave your cell...I will come...be ready.” Hana made no move to answer. The man was obviously delusional, and likely dangerous. She should never have allowed herself to become entangled with him. It seemed that she had no judgement when it came to men. 

     Without another word, Hana rose, feeling her way blindly to her bunk. She no longer cared about the shower or breakfast. All she wanted was to sleep. If she never awoke, so much the better. There was nothing left for her; nothing left of her. She drifted into a troubled sleep, silent tears tracing down her jaw. 

     Hana awoke to the sensation of falling, her shoulder and hip catching painfully on the floor. Before she had time to comprehend what had happened, a terrible blow coursed through her rib cage. Her cry was stifled by another strike to her torso, the assault sucking the wind out of her chest. She coughed until she wretched, the yellow bile of her vomit tinged with blood. Hana was dimly aware of a dark shadow hulking over her, illuminated by the sudden lighting of her cell. Looking up through a blurry haze, she met private Benson’s sorrowful countenance. 

     “Again,” she heard, her eyes flicking in horror to the watchful gaze of the Warden. The private brought his foot back, dealing her another sharp kick. It fell upon its mark, doubling its target over with pain. 

     “What’s our policy on conversing with prisoners, son?” the Warden asked, rubbing his eyes like a disappointed parent. 

     “There is to be no conversation of any kind between guards and prisoners,” Benson recited mechanically, the glistening sheen of sweat coating his brow. 

     “Good man, now give us a shot for the road,” the Warden commanded, his eyes shards of malice. 

     “Sir,” the private pleaded, swallowing hard, “she’s had enough. Anymore and the damage-”

     “Private Benson, are you refusing to follow a direct order given by a commanding officer? That’s a quick way to find yourself court-martialed, son. Are you looking to cozy up in a cell of your own?” he hissed in the private’s ear. 

     Benson met Hana’s silent plea, her eyes moistening from the pain. His jaw twitched spasmodically and his eyes roved, trying to reach a decision. Clenching them shut, he swung back once more, his foot connecting with her injured rib cage. Her bruised rib gave way with a sickening snap as Hana screamed in agony. She tried desperately to fill her lungs with breath, each inhale wreaking havoc on her battered body.

     “That will be all for now, Benson,” the Warden nodded to the door dismissively. The private shot her one last look of remorse before departing. Her only possible ally had left her to the devices of a madman.   

     “I have to say, Ms. Dari,” he purred, circling her with his familiar predatory stance, “I really am disappointed. I had high hopes for our friendship, but you have thwarted me at every turn. I thought that once we did away with that wild mane of yours, I would find a more submissive woman in my midst. Imagine my surprise when Envoy Filo Belias of the Eastern Borough, son of Envoy Rus Belias the politician and business mogul, bursts into my office, mad as a hornet. You see No.312546, I expect complete honesty from my wards, and you withheld some very important details from me. The ire of an envoy is a direct threat to my valuable work and its funding. My career could be in jeopardy, all because of little old you.” He spun on her suddenly, making her wince, “You took something from me, Hana. Now I’m going to take something from you.” He launched towards her, and Hana braced helplessly against the abuse he was sure to inflict. 

     “What is the meaning of this!” an angry cry rang from outside the cell, granting Hana a momentary reprieve. Filo stood before the glass, hands clenched in rage. “What do you think you’re doing? Get away from my fiancé!” he screamed, eyes flaring. “Open this door!” he demanded, slamming a hand against the barrier. 

     The Warden’s lip curled in contempt, but the general did as he was instructed. Pressing the touchpad of his wrist console, he unlocked the doors, sending Filo hurtling inside. 

     “What have you done to her?” He exclaimed, taking in Hana’s misery like a smashed valuable. He bent down towards her, inspecting the damage. 

     “Don’t touch me,” Hana wheezed through the pain. She would not let him exploit her in her weakness. He had the power to deprive her of everything but her dignity, and Hana would not let him take that from her. Filo recoiled his outstretched hand, frowning at her animosity. 

     “This is unacceptable,” he snapped, turning to address the Warden who was curiously calm. Suddenly, through the pain, it all dawned on Hana with horrifying clarity. How had she not seen it before?

     “He works for you!” she spat, blood speckling her lips. “He’s your creature!” She pointed an accusatory finger to Filo. The Warden bristled at her perception, shooting him a guilty glance.  

     “That’s preposterous!” the general tried, but to no avail. Hana could see right through his lies. 

     “Was this your plan all along, to break me so that I had nowhere else to turn? How far would it have gone, Filo?” Hana snarled through gritted teeth. Her chest and side were on fire, but the pain did not douse her fury at the injustice. 

     Filo stared into space before turning to acknowledging her accusation. “You always were bright, Hana, even in our childhood. I admired your curiosity, your eagerness to learn. It pains me to see you brought so low,” he confided, casually stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

     “Don’t pretend like you care,” Hana rasped, her breath coming more shallowly with each passing moment. Soon unconsciousness would plunge her back into darkness. 

     “Oh but I do care Hana, I really do,” he mused, staring at her intently. “At first I thought of you as a diversion, something fun I could play with. But the more you refused my advances, the more interesting you became. I loved that fire in you, that defiance. It made the game more interesting, raised the stakes so to speak. And then that rejection!” 

     He slung his head back in ecstasy, staring up at the ceiling before continuing. “It hurt, but in such a refreshing way. I’ve always been given everything. You are the one thing that’s been denied to me. It’s exhilarating, really,” he smiled as though recalling a fond memory. “And when you were sent to Mala Fide, I thought, what better setting for our next little match of wills? I knew General Larson, here, was dying for some additional funding for his experiments and that he was a man unencumbered by something as frivolous as a conscience. I came here fully expecting to find you pathetically reduced, but somehow it seems that this prison has,” he paused, searching for the correct word, “invigorated your indomitable spirit.”

     “You’re revolting,” Hana croaked weakly. She was disgusted that she could have ever thought of such a man as her friend.

     “See, there it is!” he said excitedly, pointing a finger at her, “such resolve, even when broken!”

     “Can we wrap this up?” The Warden barked. “If someone finds her in such a precarious state-”

     “They’ll do what, Warden?” Filo sneered, inflated with power. “My motivations are above reproach.” 

      As though signaled by his words, a blaring alarm began to sound over their heads, red light flooding the chamber. Hana clamped her hand over her ears and curled into the stabbing pain filling her chest, fearing another blast from the UF emitters.

     “What is that?” Filo demanded, searching the ceiling for answers. He jumped as thick metal shields began to descend over the Bioscreens. “What’s happening?” he shrieked, the fear apparent in his voice. 

     “Lockdown,” the Warden growled, tapping frantically at his wrist console. “Someone has disabled the system. I can’t get through.”

     “All hells, what’s happening out there?” Filo bellowed, trying to peer through the disappearing glass screen. 

     Hana’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared, a single word transfixing her thoughts, Var.