Jupiter's Halo Book One: The Lies

Chapter Nine "The Devotion"

Aitkin felt his body sag as the familiar round of questions started again. His name was first, then his rank and company, then…

“What is your name?”

He knew the pain would come again soon. His body was a ruin of scars, a patchwork of thin white lines. He could see them covering the skin of his forearms and knew they would be everywhere he had been cut. He thought of Itona as she’d stood in the briefing hall on the Pride and spoken of their mission. She’d said it wouldn’t be simple or easy. She’d had no idea then how right she was.

“Aitkin Cassini.” he supplied.

There was silence at his answer. The questions had come quickly before, each one following on like clockwork. The gap gave him pause.

“I tire of this game, Aitkin Cassini.”

The shock of the words startled him. He had been ready for the question, almost saying the words by reflex. He had not been ready for a statement.

His body language must have given away his surprise.

"You were expecting another question maybe, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini?"

The voice was still calm and monotone, but there was just the barest hint of something else. Tiredness maybe? The slightest exasperation. Was it too much to hope his failure to break had forced a change in the rules?

He stayed silent.

“But why should I ask the same questions again and again?”

He could hear the voice moving now, walking behind him in an arc that kept its owner from straying into the light. "I know you are a Lieutenant of the Deorum Marines. I know you are a strong man and I know you will not answer all my questions."

The voice stopped moving, he strained to turn his head to the left where last he’d heard it, but the restraints of his chair kept his face immobile.

“You are an extraordinary man, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini,” a pause, “But I wonder, just how extraordinary?”

Aitkin heard the swish of fabric again as the voice’s owner began to move. He walked a slow circle, careful to stay where he could not be seen. Aitkin imagined the appraising look he would be receiving.

“Do you even know why I wish to know of Emelia Green. Do you know what it is that makes her so important?”

Aitkin kept his eyes down, his mouth closed.

There was a laugh; dry and humourless.

"I can see you do not. It is of no matter. We are just pawns, you and I. Just tools arranged and directed by those above us."

Aitkin felt disgust at the comparison. He had killed, yes. But he had never tortured another human. He had never enjoyed the taking of life.

The words were odd; strangely complimentary from someone who had spent so many days inflicting such agonies upon him. Had he earned some small measure of grudging respect?

“You are loyal, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini, that is clear. You are strong and loyal and have proven to be quite a test, I will admit.”

Aitkin tried to steel himself against the pleasantries. The tone of voice was softening, becoming more human, injecting more feeling. It was a tactic. Another way to attack his defences and find a way inside his mind.

“But why be so loyal to someone you do not even know? For all you are aware I wish to know her whereabouts to bring her to justice for terrible crimes. Had you considered that?”

It was lies. Aitkin’s anger rose at such a transparent attempt, but inside he felt the tiniest glimmer of doubt.

“Will you not even consider it?” The voice still moved slowly, circling the shaft of light as it spoke. Always close, but never enough to be seen. “You are willing to offer your life in place of hers, but you will not even tell me why. Why is she so important, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini? Why is she worth more than you?”

Aitkin forced himself to hold back a retort.

Name, rank, devotion. That was all he would give.

“Why, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini?” The voice sounded closer, right behind him. “She is no one. Nothing to you. You are a marine, a Lieutenant. You lead men and women who fight to keep your people safe. You have value.”

Aitkin’s fists clenched. His teeth ground together.

“Do you not believe me?” There was a sadness to the tone. “Do you think your life is worth so little? That you are worth so little? A soft tutting noise followed the words.

“I have studied so much about you, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini. I have learned of your deeds. Your sacrifices. Your struggles. You are extraordinary. But Emelia Green? She is nothing.”

He felt the warmth of breath on his neck. If only he could move his head, thrust it back to meet the hidden face.

"You believe she would suffer such on your behalf? You believe she would sacrifice herself for you as you do for her? You are wrong, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini."

The words hurt. He tried to keep them out, but they hit him where he was weakest. He started to recite the Oath, taking solace in the promises he had made; loyalty to the Deorum, strength in the face of their enemies, faith in the Board and in his devotion.

The invisible speaker laughed again. This time it felt derisive, mocking.

“Such pretty words.” The voice said and Aitkin felt another flash of anger at the plain disrespect. “But do you truly believe them? What do you really hold allegiance to, I wonder?”

Aitkin’s mind flashed with images; his mother; stern and judging. The marines he commanded; each one believing in his skills to lead them. Itona, smiling. His Captain. His lover. His world. Her face stayed in his mind as her smile faded. Her mouth opened, her eyes wide as she shouted something he couldn’t make out. A warning? A curse?

He was a marine of the Deorum. He'd taken the Oath at the Academy, recited it on every mission since he left its halls. He was loyal and would not betray his people. He would not betray her.

“Tell me,” the voice started again, “What is your devotion?”

Aitkin took a breath, it was an answer he could give. Itona’s face faded to darkness in his mind, her words lost.

“The Painted Maid.”

He tried to speak boldly but his dry throat and exhaustion robbed the words of their strength.

“Ah? An interesting choice.” the voice sounded surprised. “As I understand it the Painted Maid is not a common devotion among the military. Usually it’s the Horseman, or the Legioness maybe. Something strong. Something more… warrior-esque.”

There was another pause and Aitkin thought he heard a gentle intake of breath.

“The Painted Maid is a figure of mystery and duplicity is she not?”

Aitkin didn’t answer. His faith was not a subject he would be drawn on.

“She is a liar, I believe. One who masks her real intentions and deals in shadows, hmm?”

Aitkin wanted to argue. The Painted Maid was often misunderstood. She was considered one of the darker devotions, more often holding the faith of those in positions that were considered less than savoury.

His choice of faith had earned him plenty of questions over the years, especially within the Six Companies, but his reasons were not something he was about to explain to this man, this torturer.

“I have no doubt there are reasons for your choice.” the voice continued. “They matter not. What’s important is what such a choice says about you. Do you believe like your Painted Maid you can hide your true face from me?”

Aitkin tried to keep his expression blank.

“Ah, I see you want to believe this.” A dark chuckle followed the words. “I’m sorry to tell you this is not going to be the case.”

Aitkin felt the pressure of a hand on his shoulder. The fingers squeezed him gently like a reassuring friend would.

“You see, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini, there is a point at which every mind breaks. It may be quick, it may be slow, but eventually it always comes.” Aitkin felt breath on his neck again as his tormentor leaned in close to speak gently in his ear. “When it happens, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini it is both a beautiful and a terrible thing. To see a mind laid open is a sight found nowhere else in the universe. But, alas, by that point you will not even realise it has happened.”

The voice took on a different tone, sympathetic or mocking, Aitkin couldn’t tell.

"If you force me to push you to that point, Aitkin Cassini, well, there will be no coming back. The 'you' you know will be gone."

The hand slid off his shoulder and Aitkin felt himself tense at the prospect of the knife replacing it. The blossom of pain he had been conditioned to expect didn’t come.

“I don’t want to take you to that extreme, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini.”

He realised his torturer had stood straight behind him. In his mind, he imagined the way he would be looking down on him. Aitkin tried to imagine the face in the shadows so he could picture how it would look were their roles reversed.

"It would be such a terrible, terrible shame, Lieutenant Aitkin Cassini." There was a sigh, "The choice is yours; help me keep you from that pain, from breaking, or remain as you are and pray to your painted w***e that she-e can deliver-er you from my hands-ds."

Aitkin felt the rush of anger at the deliberate disrespect. His rational mind knew it was bait to play on his faith and throw his emotions off balance. The rest of his mind didn’t care. His fists clenched, the muscles in his arms and legs tensed and his chest strained against the harness holding him in place.

If he could reach the owner of the voice he would throttle the life from him, choke him with his bare hands and watch the light in his eyes fade with a smile on his face. He would repay all the pain he’d endured and more. He would…

His rational mind threw in a thought that snapped his attention away from thoughts of violence.

It told him to pay attention.

Something had happened to the words being spoken. An echo, but so close as to be almost imperceptible. Something was happening to the room too. The darkness seemed to flicker for a moment as if one picture had been overlayed with another, identical one, but for a fraction of a second, the image had been interrupted as they changed.

His rational thoughts told him to let the fury go and clear his head so he could think.

It told him something else important too; the cuff holding down his left wrist was loose.