The Rebellious Slave Ch. 15byHisPet21©
But the worst part of the whole ordeal was being fitted with a thick, metallic collar which was wrapped around her neck. The collar served two purposes. First and foremost, it was installed with a tracker, and Martkorp's implant was deactivated to avoid conflicting signals. Secondly, if Kara were ever to leave Cell Block D unattended, she was told that an electric shock from the collar would knock her unconscious. The atrocious thing was bulky and uncomfortable, and dragged Kara's head down just a little. But Kara reminded herself that she would be free of Arlington for a week, and her spirits were almost immediately brightened.
Once Kara had been fully processed, she was taken to the Interrogation Block for questioning. There were numbered rooms lining either side of a long hallway, and Kara was eventually led into Room 13. All in all, it was a typical Interrogation Cell. There was a table, two chairs, and an overhead light. As Kara entered the room, she also noticed that it was already occupied, and that two people had been awaiting her arrival. The first occupant was Taylor, Kara's interrogator, who sat across the table, chewing on a pen and reviewing the slave's file. She was roughly as old as Kara--maybe twenty five, or twenty seven--and wore her naturally red hair in a tight bun. The second occupant was a shy looking gentleman who sat in the corner before a typewriter, a stenographer. And that was pretty much it. Another prisoner might have been intimidated by the scene, but Kara was unimpressed. Arlington's torture room was far more horrific, and the Interrogation Block provided Kara with a nice change of scenery.
The interrogation was short. At most, it lasted twenty minutes. Kara was merely hooked up to a lie detector and asked a series of questions, none of which were difficult to answer. In fact, Kara was able to answer every single question with the word "no," making the stenographer's job embarrassingly easy. So easy, even, that he eventually became bored and was staring off into space between questions.
Do you know where Tamius Sue is? .....No.
Do you know where she is heading? .....No.
Do you have any good guesses? .....No.
Finally, Taylor became bored with the questioning and dismissed Kara to her cell. And for that, Kara was grateful. The elation from her recent victory had not yet worn off, but Kara was still exhausted from the past day's events. She hadn't slept in over 24hrs, and she desperately needed some time to herself. Kara needed some privacy to recuperate and, perhaps more importantly, to consider her abysmal situation.
For now, she was safe inside Bremmington, where Arlington couldn't get to her. But eventually, Kara would be returned to her master, and she needed to decide, once and for all, how to approach that fact. Escape seemed completely out of the question. Once returned to Lord Arlington's Manor, Kara would be placed on lock down. There was no doubt about that, not even a sliver. And so, the questions haunting Kara were these: Should she fully submit, so that Arlington would allow her to retain some sense of her former self? Or, should she resist and endure further torment, until her mind turned to mush and she was nothing but a sex doll? The former seemed wise, but shameful. The latter was ideologically justifiable, but impractical.
Following the interrogation, a bulky guard in a black body suit arrived, to escort Kara to her cell. It took the pair a surprisingly long amount of time to get there, too, most probably because Kara was tired and her footsteps were heavy. For at least a half hour, the slave was led through several winding hallways, and past many closed doors.
As they walked, Kara noted that the entirety of Bremmington seemed to be nothing but grey concrete and fluorescent lighting. But finally, Kara and her escort reached an elevator, and proceeded downward into the bowels of Bremmington, as Cell Block D was below ground level. After traversing past a great many floors, the elevator finally came to a stop and the doors parted. Kara then realized why Constance's placement of Kara had been such a huge favor. Cell Block D was very clearly a maximum security cell block, and Kara most definitely didn't belong there. She was a low priority prisoner, and would normally have been taken to a less sinister cell block. But Arlington wanted Kara to be as uncomfortable as possible while in prison, and it seemed that he would get his wish.
On her way to the Interrogation Block, Kara had seen several other floors, and none of them looked quite like Cell Block D. The floors above ground level housed cells that were open to the hallway, so that prisoners could shout across to each other. The rooms had been large, too. Some had even been equipped with phones, or a television. But Cell Block D consisted of a long, concrete hallway that was damp, and foreboding. Fluorescent lights flickered above, making an annoying buzzing sound that was sure to give Kara a headache. And then, painted along the walls, was the ominous "Cell Block D" insignia.
But Kara was most worried about the cells themselves, which were concrete cubes roughly five feet wide by five feet long. They weren't open to the hallway, either. There was only a small opening, like a mail slot, at the base of each door, for the insertion of food. Although, even those slots were bolted up tight, when not in use. And when Kara was introduced to Cell 05--where she would remain for the next week--she saw that it was very poorly furnished. There was a straw stuffed mattress lying on the floor, dressed in the poor imitation of a blanket, which was thin and full of holes. In addition to this, there was only a toilet and a sink, both of which were old and rusted with use. Soon, Kara was pushed inside of the cell and the door was locked ominously behind her, leaving the poor girl all alone.
Or, at least, Kara thought she was alone. But there was an odd scratching noise in the corner of her cell, and Kara decided to investigate the sound. Initially, she suspected that the culprit was a rodent. Surely, Bremmington would be crawling with the disgusting creatures. However, the sound belonged to neither a mouse nor a rat. Instead, Kara watched as something small was pushed through a tiny, hardly noticeable hole in the wall beside the floor.
Curious, Kara knelt by the opening in order to see what was being passed though: a gum wrapper, the lead point of a pencil, and a sliver of eraser. There was something written on the bubble gum wrapper too, although it was hard to read. The slip of paper had been written over many times, so that it had become dark grey with smudged graphite. And even though someone had tried to erase the residual pencil smudges, the endeavor was clearly hopeless. But eventually, Kara could make out something in the upper left hand corner: "Address: Cell 09."
"Pass it along," said a disembodied voice. It seemed to come from nowhere, and startled Kara so badly that she jumped away from the wall with a little screech. It was a gruff male voice too, toned and deep, but not unkind. And after Kara had reclaimed her bearings, she realized that it had come from the cell beside her. "There should be a small hole, just like this one, near the floor on the other side of your cell," the male voice continued, nonchalant and causal, as if Kara hadn't just screamed. "We're on the odd numbered side, so the note's supposed to be delivered two cells to your left. James is in the cell beside you. Just knock on the wall when you're through, and he'll finish the delivery."
Intrigued, Kara gingerly picked up the tiny gum wrapper, so as not to drop it, and the associated writing utensils. Or, more accurately, the disembodied pieces of writing utensils. They must have been very precious, Kara thought, for in a maximum security cell block, supplies of any kind must be hard to come by. And as Kara walked toward the opposite end of her cell, to deliver the tiny message, she attempted to read it, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"Don't look at a message that isn't for you, by the way," the disembodied voice warned, gentle but firm."It's rude, and it's dangerous."
"Alright," Kara replied, though reluctant. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Then, as instructed, Kara pushed the bundle of items into the aforementioned hole. Apparently, there was no need to alert James to the package, either. For the note disappeared almost instantly, as someone on the other side gripped and pulled. "Successfully delivered," Kara proclaimed, and sat back next to the wall from whence the disembodied voice came.
"So," pondered the voice, cool and casual. "May I ask what you are in for? Of course, if you're uncomfortable discussing that here, I understand. There'll be cameras somewhere hidden in the ceiling, so be careful what you say."
But Kara didn't mind bragging a little bit. After all, the slave was rather proud of her escapades. "Aiding and abetting in the escape of a Class "A" Wartime Criminal," Kara explained, reciting a line from a confession she'd been forced to sign. "And from what I can tell, it was a very successful escape, by the way."
"Well, all be damned," the voice laughed. "Very good news. And may I ask who the escapee was?"
"General Tamius Sue," Kara replied, unable to hide the pride in her tone. "General Tamius Sue, the East Side Combatant."
"No, shit?" the voice asked, and it was suddenly incredulous. Kara could hear shuffling on the other side of the wall, as her neighbor inched closer. "Tamius?" he questioned, making sure he'd heard Kara right the first time. "Of the White Horse Rebel Alliance? Arlington's primary trophy slave?"
"The one and the same," Kara grinned, unable to help herself.
"Can I ask what Rescue Regimen you were from?" The disembodied voice sounded earnest. "I hear you guys have been slowly working your way inward from the border, but I didn't expect anyone this far inland so soon."
"I'm not from a Rescue Regimen," Kara admitted. "I didn't even know there were such things. I'm just a lowly secondary trophy slave of Arlington's, and he just happened to fuck up one day. That's all. I'm Kara Chrystein, by the way. I was medic in Gardok during the war. Nice to meet you, Mister...."
"Karrington," the disembodied voice replied. "Ben Karrington. And yes, I am rather pleased to make your acquaintance as well."
This time, it was Kara's turn to sound incredulous. "Did I hear you right?" she asked, trying hard to keep the astonishment out of her voice. "Ben Karrington? Head of the White Horse Rebel Alliance?"
"Indeed. And if we should ever meet face to face, I will give you my autograph." And Karrington laughed, his voice genuine and boyish. "But seriously," he continued, subduing an emergent chuckle in his throat. "Let's not make a big deal out of that. There is no more 'White Horse Rebel Alliance,' except for a few insurgent groups. As far as I'm concerned, there isn't anything left for me to lead. And a general without his men is no general at all. You and I are just two miserable souls in the same god awful place. And I am just a condemned war criminal, like everyone else."
"I thought you were sold at the Martkorp Slave Auction?" Kara pressed, now very curious about her neighbor. "I thought you were an owned man?" Kara wanted to know everything she could about Karrington then, and she had good reason to. Karrington was, after all, the ultimate reason Kara had joined the military in spite of her parent's objections. He was the reason Kara had gone to Gardok, instead of surrendering to Isleydor after the Primary Counselors had. Karrington was, quite frankly, the reason Kara had ended up at a Martkorp Auction and was sold to Lord Arlington in the first place, if one only followed the chain of events far enough back.
"But not anymore," Karrington replied, and his voice was suddenly clipped and defensive. "It's a long story, and I'd rather not talk about it."
Kara then noticed that there was a second hole in the wall, reducing the separation between her and Karrington. From where she sat, it was about eye level, and Kara used it to peer into Karrington's adjacent cell. The hole was so tiny that Kara didn't get a very clear view of her neighbor, but she did mange to see a single grey eye, filled with kindness and an insatiable light. Very suddenly, the eye looked right back at Kara, and it startled her. For it was fiercely intrigued and seemed to pierce past Kara's barriers and into her soul, making her feel both naked and strangely violated. Quickly then, Kara turned away. But it was only a momentary loss of calm, and the conquest slave was soon peering into the hole once more.
"So," Karrington prodded, a smile in his one, visible eye. "It's awfully easy to get bored in here, day after agonizing day. If you have any good stories, I would be much obliged. And if you aren't too prudish, I have a marvelous story about an old man and a prostitute I could tell you in return."