Chapter 13: Not a Wink

For a moment, Reynold dreamed he had taken the form of someone else. In the depths of desperate sleep, his head shook from an impact sent from the awake world. Pain lanced away from his now open eye. Reynold must have slipped into unconsciousness as soon as that damned chain, his wrists and ankles shackled to it, led him to the seat. He wore nothing but the cuffs. His thick legs and torso almost crushed the chair underneath.

A man in a blue labor caste jumpsuit held his fist in front of Reynold’s face. “Wakey, wakey, asshole.”

The cretin looming over him had one eye focused on Reynold. The other stared out straight, unmoving. Reynold recognized him as the labor peon who fixed the Bauer Residence’s house robot. The same guy had sprung out of the shadows on the casteless level and sunk a syringe in Reynold’s neck. He would have been unremarkable like the rest of the cogs in his caste except for that glass eye.

“One day, I’ll pull that other eye from your skull.” The chain had enough slack for Reynold to raise his hand to massage the bruised flesh.

“I doubt that.”

An old man, also in blue, tapped the close-door button with the top of his cane. He held a terminal in his other hand. Glass Eye withdrew to the back of the room. With the help of his walking stick, the old one limped to the seat across from Reynold. The fossil had dark purple splotches around his eyes, not bruises though. The lower castes tolerated such birth defects.

“You all freaks of some sort or other?”

“I suspect you do not understand the truth you’ve stumbled upon.” The old man turned the corners of his mouth upward. “I trust your stay with us has been uncomfortable.”

Reynolds wiped his auburn locks out of his eyes. The strands still held the water from the single shower he had in his cell. He had a gorgeous quaff of hair before all this. Now grease drowned his curls. “What you will do is release me from these cuffs, find me something respectable to wear, and watch me walk out that door.”

The one in the back squinted his one good eye. “Why would we do that?”

“Because that’s how things work.” Reynold balled his hands into fists. His fingernails dug into his palms. “Because I am Leadership, and you are lesser.”

The old man lifted his chin. “You aren’t curious who we are?”

Every muscle tensed. Heat rushed up from Reynold’s core. He spat in the old man’s eye. “That’s who you are.”

The thug stepped forward, but the old man stopped him with a raise of his hand. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “You are one of our special cases.”

An alien desert enveloped the old man. Wind blew him into dust. A voice—

Reynold’s jaw exploded in agony. The old man reappeared, as did Glass Eye and his fist.

The old man tapped his cane against the table. “Try to stay awake when I talk to you.”

“I would if you let me sleep at all in the last…” The coppery taste of blood rushed up through Reynold’s gums where Glass Eye hit him. “How long have I been here?”

Every time Reynold slipped into sleep, a variety of screeches blasted through the walls. When he slept through those, they resorted to dousing him with scalding water from the ceiling. Every fiber of his being screamed for sleep.

The old man waved Glass Eye away. “Mr. Bauer, you have committed an exceptional evil.”

“I did nothing wrong.”

Glass Eye’s mouth hung agape. “You raped your patriarch.”

“That wasn’t rape.” Reynold’s vision drifted out of focus. “That was politics.”

“In front of your caste family.”

Reynold locked on the man’s functional eye. “So you planted something in the robot, didn’t you?”

“In front of the children. At knifepoint.”

“There is no wrong!” All saliva vanished from Reynold’s mouth. His heartbeat beat in his eardrums.

The pair watched him. They said nothing.

“Only victims concern themselves about right and wrong.” Reynold pointed upward with his chin. “They imagine their pain matters to something out there, so they don’t have to do anything about it, to justify their weaknesses. It’s pure delusion. Outside of this station, the void cares not.”

“It seems,” the old man grinned, “we’ve got a real ubermensch on our hands.” He leaned back into his seat. “I was a special case like yourself, and like yourself, I was full of shit. I did things that turn my stomach to think of now.”

“Did you show your face in public?” Reynold pointed at the purple stains around the old man’s eyes. “It turned my stomach.”

“But I transformed myself, and you could have this opportunity as well.” The old man slid the terminal across the table. “You only need to press your finger to the screen, and you’ll consent to the game.”

“Nah.”

The old man straightened his spine. “No?”

“Not interested.” Reynold pressed the moisture out of his brow. Whatever game they played, the only way to win was to not play.

“If you consent, you sleep.” The old man narrowed his deformed eyes. “Without sleep, the human body undergoes a horrific death. I have seen it many times.”

“You can take your opportunity and shove it up your ancient sphincter.” Reynold showed his toothy grin.

The old man took back his terminal. “I’m afraid we will have to continue the sleep deprivation. We will check in to see if you have changed your mind. Please, don’t expire before that happens.”