Chapter 26 Dom
TWENTY-SIX
DOM
My head aches like I took a rocket to the face again. Did Nevare overstretch himself? Is Arik hurt?
My hearts seize. Is this pain coming from Law-rah?
Cool relief settles my tense muscles as I remember—I was the one who got shot, this is my pain. Phew.
The sensation of Law-rah’s presence in my mind fades with every passing heartbeat. Either she or I must be traveling, and we're being separated.
I hesitate to reach out to her. I can feel she's fine if a little scared, blue spikes making the connection prickle between us like caltrops in the way.
She'll be safe on Oloria, and she asked me not to speak to her in her mind.
I have a hazy recollection of her telling me to stay, but I must be mistaken.
Still, I clutch onto whatever remains of the faint echo of her voice through our mind-sync.
It's getting weaker, as if we’re worlds apart.
I close my eyes and send my senses out as far as they'll go.
Without Nevare here to boost me, I can barely stretch beyond arm's length, but it's enough to realize that Shade isn’t with me. The Sanitatum plant is gone.
I also discover there are guards nearby. Their mental shields tighten against me, like an Earth snail retreating into its shell. I catch only a glimpse of what the Pranastock pilot is seeing, a sight which makes my hearts seize.
A massive, gray slab of concrete and steel, devoid of life, just as indifferent as the fate that awaits me here. The walls rise as tall as a fortress, but there’s no safety here. Just the end.
‘Dom.’ Law-rah's faint whisper. She's straining to make herself heard, shouting as loud as she can.
‘Law-rah. Don't worry, I'll shield you so you feel no pain.’ I swallow hard. I have to make this easy for her. ‘I hope you meet a True Born son who will treat you as the center of his world, as you deserve. Thank you for playing with me. It… it was truly the highlight of my life.’
‘Dom!’ Vast pools of anguish threaten to drown her. ‘Always thinking of others before yourself! How long have you got?’
An image flashes through my mind—a memory, sudden and sharp. We'd worked in a place like this once, Nevare, Arik and I, back when the only thing that mattered was my Apex’s well-being.
‘Approximately half an Earth hour,’ I explain. It usually takes that long from arrival of a condemned clone to final processing.
‘I need more time. Slow them down if you can, Dom, please.’ The colors of her mental voice are angry reds, searing golds, and a strong core of lilac.
My color. She's taking strength from me.
The flyer begins its descent.
‘I’m trying as hard as I can to get you out, but you need to resist. Buy me some time.’
I know the clones who resist are processed quicker.
The clone who fought his lawful euthanization and smashed into Nevare, when I took the blow which left me with a head injury, was immediately shot.
I was damaged badly enough they almost euthanized me right then and there.
I was just an expendable Base, after all.
But Ilia saved me. He saw something worth keeping. And Gara patched me up, installed the metal plate in my head that I carry to this day. I was spared that time, brought back from the edge.
This time, there’s no one here to save me.
As the flyer settles, I hold on to the connection with Law-rah as hard as I can. I don’t know how she expects me to fight when everything here is proceeding as it should. Exiles who return should face the penalty.
But perhaps it's better to be euthanized while carrying out Law-rah's order. Because I'll fight to stay with Law-rah.
Light floods my vision as the trunk of the flyer bursts open, and I throw myself up. My eyes adjust quickly, taking in the figures ahead, a line of Parthiastocks, grim-faced and entirely unprepared.
I don’t hesitate. My orders are simple: obey Law-rah. Resist.
The first Parthiastock meets my fist, and his jaw cracks under the force.
I pivot, slamming a knee into the gut of the next one before sweeping low, knocking him off his feet.
But the clones keep coming, absorbing my hits like they’re nothing more than practice swings.
My muscles strain, adrenaline burning through me.
I won’t let them drag me down. I can't fail her.
And this is oddly satisfying. Whenever Law-rah asks anything of me, following her orders aligns with what I want. I do want this. I want to live.
A piercing scream hits me, tightening around my mind like a crushing vice.
I stumble, clutching my head as pain crashes over me in waves.
An Apex stands just beyond my reach, his gaze cold, wielding psychic power like a chain tightening around my skull.
I brace, clenching my teeth, trying to lock the pain toward me, collecting it to myself.
I back up into my mental room, carrying it all with me to shield Law-rah from the edges of the scream.
The agony swells, overwhelming, forcing me to my knees.
The Parthiastocks seize the opportunity.
Cold betrillium metal snaps around my wrists, shackles biting into my skin.
They haul me to my feet, dragging me forward while the Apex’s mind crushes down on mine, keeping me pinned.
I’m pulled toward the Center, unable to resist, my steps stumbling and weak as we cross the threshold inside.
It’s over; clones who go into the Euthanization Center don't come out.
The Center thrums with mental despair, fear swirling in clouds spiked through with anger, loss, anguish.
Lines of clones ahead shuffle forward, chains rattling, their heads bowed, their eyes empty.
Blank faces, devoid of life, marching toward the end.
The mental torment only increases as the Parthiastocks march me for earlier processing, and two of them near the back are uncoupled to make space for me.
Harsh metal snaps around my neck, pressing tight against my scales, my shackles connected to the collar of the clone in front. My own collar is attached to the fists of the clone behind, so if we struggle, we hurt each other.
Now I’m part of a procession. The line of clones moves in increments, the solemn march broken only by the soft clink of chains.
Every eight Earth minutes, we shuffle forward.
The rhythm of death—the time it takes to position a clone, check their chip, confirm their fate, and carry out the sentence.
Each slow step marks another clone’s death ahead of us, our own marching closer.
Catching my breath is impossible amongst the waves of fear and despair.
Harsh-faced Parthiastocks monitor the lines.
I know these Parthiastocks are just fulfilling theirroles, carrying out orders, but this is mental torture for them, too.
The work wore us down, knowing as each hour passed, many lives had ended.
Unless these Parthiastocks have stronger mental rooms than I do, locking themselves away completely, they’re suffering.
I glance to my left, spotting one clone who’s been manacled tighter than the others, his wrists bleeding against the restraints. His face is blank, hollowed out. There’s nothing left in him but obedience to this final, grim order.
I don't want Law-rah to see this. I lock down inside my room, pushing out a shield against the choking clouds threatening to drag me down. I sense her flicker back, a warm spark, but it’s distant, barely there.
I'll protect her.
The clone in front is dragged forward by the inevitable, and I have no choice but to step up. I stop myself from reaching out for Law-rah again. If this is the end, I want her to be free of me at last and not feeling any remorse.
Tears press behind my eyes, burning.
Here, at the end of my life, I can admit to myself I've always wanted her. Deep inside my mental room, I look at my ugly secret: I’ve been tempted to abandon my role as a Base just to have her to myself.
I failed Nevare by allowing myself to become conflicted, torn between love and my duty. Clones aren’t meant to feel love, not give it, let alone receive it. I deserve this end.
Step by step, the chains pull me forward with a slow, inevitable weight. Each inch brings me nearer to the end, the final door waiting at the front.
The clone ahead shuffles forward. I watch as Parthiastocks come from the room ahead, uncouple the collar from his neck and lift it high to loop over a hook just outside the door.
The chain stretches my arms up and forward, as if I’m reaching for the cameras at the top of the portal.
They lead him inside, and the door blocks close in after them with faint clicks.
I’m next.
The collar around my neck tightens as the clone behind me hangs back. It presses against my scales at my throat, a prelude to what’s coming, a fate I can’t ignore, can’t escape.
We stand there for long, interminable heartbeats. The longest and shortest 480 human seconds of my life.
The door unravels open and a Base unhooks the chain to my wrist shackles, not looking me in the eyes. Another unshackles the clone behind me to separate me and the first pulls me after him, into the euthanization room.
The space inside is small, made of thick metal walls reflecting my purple scales.
The Base leads me to the center of the cell to stand over a grate, pushing my back against a single pole, a golden hoop hovering at the top.
At least a robot will choke the life out of me, sparing a fellow clone the emotional cost.
The Base unchains my hands only to put them behind me, wrapping betrillium links tightly around my wrists, securing me in place.
I don’t struggle. It's not his fault. He's just fulfilling his orders. Law-rah asked me for time, but we're out of it now.
It's best if I just slip away. I'm a failure of a base to Nevare and Arik, and I failed Law-rah's non-negotiable number one.
I want her for myself.
Above me, a robotic hoop of golden metal descends slowly, a device engineered for one purpose. It circles my neck, humming softly as it prepares to tighten.
Another base steps forward, scanning my arm, his voice monotone as he reads it out. “Batch number 8774-3D0M.”
“Sentenced to exile, recovered today on Olorian soil. Re-sentenced to euthanization,” the first base says out loud.
It’s procedure to them, another day of disposing of clones who failed. Like me.
And it feels wrong.
The base’s Apex scans my mind, brushing against the edges of my thoughts with cold detachment. I can't hide anything from him, but I try, locking down on the connection with Law-rah, shoving it inside my mental room and standing in front of the door.
‘What are you hiding?’ He blasts inside, forcing me back easily, but I still hold on with the mental edges of my fingertips.
He stiffens. ‘An… anomaly.’
Law-rah. He's seen her. Drok na, she's mine. I clench my teeth, but it's no use.
I lean into the garrote, thrumming against my pulse. “If you euthanize me, there's a chance it might affect the human female who's become tangled in my mind sync. If my shields fail, please, put one up for me. Guard her from any backlash.”
His hardened eyes narrow slightly. For a moment I see what Nevare could have become.
If I hadn't been injured, he'd be the one reading the minds of condemned criminals as the final failsafe, learning if they know anything of use at the last moments of their life.
Nevare could be here now, me beside him, supporting him in this horrible work.
He inclines his head. “I'll protect her,” he croaks, as if he hasn't used his voice in cycles.
“Thank you.” There’s no use in begging, no point in fighting anymore. Even though I want to live, it's not right. I've broken too many laws, been too selfish. I've failed my purpose, and I deserve to be disposed of.
I steady my breath, the silence around me profound, and I do the only thing I can.
I wrap myself close to the connection with Law-rah, then throw it into my room and lock it.
If I press hard, I should be able to shield her from the pain that’s about to hit me.
My last action as a Base will be to protect her from what comes next.
The hoop begins to whir, tightening inch by inch.
I close my eyes.