Murder of Crows (Book One of The Icarus Trilogy) (29 page)

“Well, what now?  Want me to get you a cookie?”  Douglas awkwardly laughed and let his hand fall to the table.  He was still processing all the information and trying to re-assess Eric as a decent guy.  Eric leaned in and interlaced his fingers in front of him on the table.

“Well, I guess now I’m just going to have to recruit you.”

-

Charlotte Kane sighed as Jenkins’ cell emerged from the darkness.  She knew that the man had already been awake for at least an hour and that he was in pain and alone in the black abyss of the storage room.  She knew that he was just going to face certain death in just another day.  She knew there was no way for him to escape this cycle.

She knew there was nothing she could do.

The good doctor tapped the display and readied all of the resurrection equipment, taking care to avoid excess sedatives.  She remembered the last time she had brought him to life and how he had refused the medication.  Charlotte sighed as she realized what was in store for the soldier; it was becoming more and more apparent that Jenkins was becoming the next Carver.  Charlotte was walking towards the entrance of the resurrection chamber when she looked over at Hawkins, who was busy furiously tapping at his display.  She had absolutely no interest in reading about his study or his results, so she just ignored the man as she left the control room.

Jenkins’ cell was draining in front of her as she approached the loading deck.  The cell hissed into place and opened in front of her as she reached its side.  She could see Jenkins opening his eyes and attempting to lift his hands to his face.  He was already wiping away some of the biotic fluid as Dr. Kane started the procedures to fill a syringe with base sedatives.  She could see Jenkins shaking his head, but she continued tapping at the display and turned to look at him.

“It’s just for the re-breather, Ryan.  I’m not giving you the full dose.  I know you don’t want it.”  She let a sad smile grace her features and saw the soldier relax on the table.  Charlotte hadn’t put in the numbers for the advised dosage but she had decided to give him more than he wanted, even if he objected.  She wanted him to feel a small modicum of relief. 

Charlotte watched as the automated needles sank into his arm and emptied into the man’s blood stream.  She laid her hand on the man’s shoulder.  The good doctor was wearing plastic gloves, so it wasn’t the skin-to-skin contact she would have liked, but she hoped it was some comfort.  Charlotte saw Jenkins relax a bit and felt better about the ordeal.

Dr. Kane rose out of the seat and set herself to the task of withdrawing the re-breather.  She removed the straps and lifted them from under Jenkins’ head before taking hold of the plastic device.

“You ready, Ryan?”  The man nodded and Charlotte gave a small forced smile.  The woman gave one in return before she drew out the tube, hoping that it wouldn’t hurt the man too much.  The plastic tube slid out of the man’s throat accompanied by a painful cough from Jenkins.  Dr. Kane placed the tube on a table nearby and stroked her hand through the fuzz that was Jenkins’ hair.

“Was it bad this time?  I never watch the games, anymore,” Charlotte said with concern.  She had never liked watching them in the first place, but before she was able to work for the Commission and War World Entertainment she had been required to watch a number of the games.  Charlotte’s stomach turned as she thought about the experience.  The young Crow turned to look at her and seemed to stare off into space.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?”  The smile disappeared from Charlotte’s face and suddenly she was in a deep pit of her own despair.  She wanted so much better for him. 

“I’m sorry.  I’m going to sit you up, now,” she said as she placed her hand under his back and started to lift.  The newborn soldier wasn’t so heavy this time; she could tell that he had been flexing his muscles in the darkness and was doing his best to move without her help.  As she thought about the situation it was becoming hard for Charlotte to hold back her emotions.  When Jenkins was sitting up on his own Dr. Kane started to remove the electrodes and wires from his body.  It was a quiet process; she just didn’t really know how to talk to him when he was so exposed.  She was through with the process and was starting to go through the checklist on the computer when Jenkins spoke up.

“How is Roberts?”  Charlotte looked back at the soldier and wondered what he meant.  He wasn’t even looking at her, but instead was looking into the reflective surface of the mirror in front of him.  It was like he knew Hawkins was in there tapping away like always.

“What are you talking about?  Did he have a bad death out there?” she asked.  She didn’t know how much Jenkins knew about the soldier, and wanted to make sure she didn’t spill any secrets for the boy.  Charlotte couldn’t stop herself from shivering remembering his screams during training.

“Did Hawkins do it again?  Or did he tone it down this time?” the newborn soldier asked before turning to her with anger in his eyes.  Charlotte looked at the man and wondered if he knew more than she did.  The curiosity brewing in her mind was more than enough to push her from her morose thoughts.

“What do you know, Ryan?”  The soldier turned his head back to the mirrored glass and sighed.  He looked back to his doctor and contemplated telling her everything, but Jenkins realized that she wouldn’t take the news well.

“Nothing, really.  I just know he’s hurting.  I just wanted to know if it was better this time.”  Dr. Kane looked at the soldier as he turned his gaze back to the control room and knew that he was lying.  She wasn’t going to let that stand.

“Ryan, it’s me.  I’m not going to get you in trouble or anything, and I know you mentioned Hawkins.  If there’s something happening here I want to know.  I want to help Christopher,” she said as approached the newborn Crow.  The checklist had become a distant priority.  Jenkins looked at the doctor and could see the genuine concern in her rich, brown eyes.  The Crow felt sorry for the woman; he just hoped she found a way off this rock before it was too late.  He sighed and looked at his hands; he didn’t want her to feel even more guilt than she already did.

“I don’t know anything; it was just rumors and stuff.  Honestly, doc.  Time to go to the training room?”  Dr. Kane looked at the man and knew for certain he was hiding it out of concern for her, but she realized that she wasn’t going to get anything out of him.  Jenkins cared too much for her feelings.  She tapped at the display for the computer off-handedly and checked off everything on the list; it was obvious that there was no need for it.  She nodded towards the door and the training briefs on the stand before giving him a stern expression.

“Go on ahead, I have to grab something from the control room,” she said as Jenkins looked up sheepishly at her.  Charlotte couldn’t blame him for it and she wanted to soften her gaze, but she needed to keep her spirits up.  The soldier limped on both feet towards the doorway and she let the man exit before heading to the doorway of the control room.

The raven-haired woman burst through the door to see Hawkins smiling as he tapped away on the display of the computer.  She couldn’t stand seeing the man happy and kicked at the man’s chair, forcing the scientist to spin backwards to the other end of the room.

“What are you doing, you stupid harpy?!  I was working!”  Charlotte could see spittle flying from the impish man’s mouth and hated him for it.

“Working on what, Hawkins?  What do you do in the dead of night when I’m not here?  What do you do to these men?” she asked before closing the distance and shoving her face close to the scientist’s now-startled visage.  “What do you do to
Roberts
?”  Taken off-guard by the nascent hostility, Hawkins only regained his ego at the mention of Roberts and couldn’t help letting his rage filter through his eyes.

“What did Jenkins tell you?  That fucking imbecile, what did he tell you?” Hawkins yelled as he jumped out of the chair and let it fall to its side on the ground.  Charlotte was taken aback by the action but decided to hold her ground there.  She was going to get answers.

“Ryan didn’t tell me a damn thing.  He knew that I wasn’t going to like it.  He knew that it wouldn’t make a difference, but damn it, Peter, I need to know what’s happening in my clinic.”  The scientist sneered at the plea before backing off considerably.  If the soldier could keep his head, so could Hawkins.

“It’s not really
your
clinic, now is it, Dr. Kane?  It’s mine and I’m going to do what I want with it.  Remember, you work for me.  Now,” he said as he walked over to the chair and picked it up from the ground, “excuse me while I get back to work.”  The scientist dragged the chair back to its previous position, past the still-fuming doctor.  Charlotte had lost control of this, somehow, and she didn’t keep the anger she needed to get control back.  She stood behind Hawkins as he settled himself back down in front of his computer.

“What did you do to Christopher, Peter?  Just tell me,” she pleaded.  She knew that the monster would confess even if it was just to hear the merits of his own genius.  Hawkins stopped tapping at the display and seemed to think about what he was going to say.  When he turned in his chair Charlotte could see a wicked smile contorting the man’s rodent face.

“I make adjustments to his pain sensors and receptors.  I change it pretty much every time to a different degree and grab my data from that.  I’m trying to figure out how much pain a soldier can take before he goes insane.  How a man copes with that kind of existence,” he said before cocking his head to the side.  He knew that Dr. Kane would not take the news well.  The woman walked over to the desk and steadied herself as she considered the most heinous experiment happening right under her nose.  It was unethical, cruel and sadistic.  In such a state of shock Dr. Kane could only call the man’s science into question; she couldn’t let her emotions overcome her senses.

“But, how are you going to get any results if you just do this to Roberts?  All of it could be subject to the frailty of one man,” the good doctor said as she turned back to the scientist.  She desperately wanted it all to end; she hoped that the mention of unaccounted-for variables could be enough to sway the doctor.  But as she turned her head to look at her superior she could see Hawkins twisting his face into a smug grin.

“That’s why he’s not the only one.  I’ve done it before with a few others on the team.  Markham, Corrigan and Haywick are all some proud specimens of other experiments.  But really it doesn’t much matter. 
I’m
not the only one.  Throughout the clinics on this asteroid there are similar scientists and similar soldiers, though I must admit they don’t measure up to my own intelligence,” Hawkins said with a flourish of his pudgy hand.  The scientist chuckled a bit before shaking his head and looking at the raven-haired woman suffering in front of him.  “Did you really think we wouldn’t be careful with
our
data?” 

Charlotte gripped the desk harder as she realized that this wasn’t the twisted idea of just one man.  This was throughout the whole Commission.  The whole organization of War World Entertainment was corrupt and she was stuck in the middle of it all.  Charlotte’s world spiraled into darkness around her as Hawkins smirked. 

“I think we’re done here, Dr. Kane.  You should go train your little, toy soldier.  He’s going to get lonely over there.”

-

Jenkins walked through the doorway of the barracks and stood in the lobby for a moment.  He breathed deeply and looked at the man at the desk, realizing that he had never learned the man’s name.  But Jenkins also realized that there was no point in it; the receptionist hadn’t even bothered to look at the newly-resurrected soldier.  The receptionist was just looking down at his computer and laughing at some inane thing.  Jenkins shook his head and walked towards his room.  He didn’t really know why he bothered anymore.  His whole world was a gray, sterile environment devoid of real and true life.  He left the receptionist to his devices.

The young Crow felt a pang from his conscience as he remembered Charlotte’s demeanor during his therapy.  Jenkins knew as soon as she arrived in the training room that she had found out about Hawkins’ little experiment.  To a degree it was his fault and he wasn’t proud of it.  Charlotte Kane was the one person who shouldn’t have more guilt thrust upon her.  Jenkins shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to lumber on to his room.

The pain wasn’t so bad this time, or at least he’d gotten used to it.  It was in the background and hadn’t disappeared completely, but it was more of an annoyance than the torture it used to be.  The young Crow tried to tell himself that it was a good thing, but he had lost the will to look on the bright side.  Jenkins was stuck on a world that would keep him in debt until he wasn’t useful anymore and at any time he could be swept up into an unethical experiment.  Eris was a testament to the cruelty of the human race and he’d gotten himself mired in its depths.  Jenkins wasn’t sure if he’d be able to go on even if he somehow made it off of Eris; he felt as if he’d seen too much.

The young Crow reached his room and closed the door behind him.  He stood there for a moment and scanned the four walls and everything between them.  He couldn’t make himself comfortable there; it felt like someone else’s room.  This wasn’t a proper home even if it did hold all of his worldly possessions.  It was somewhere he was allowed to live when he wasn’t dying for the collective’s amusement.  He trudged over to his bed and sat down.  Jenkins looked at the wall in front of him and wondered if there was anything worthwhile in his life.  He wanted to remember something; some memory of when he, as a person, mattered.

He wanted to remember, but he couldn’t.

Jenkins fell down on the bed and buried his face in his pillow.  He had always considered that he could maybe get out and maybe get back to Earth.  It would be Hell, but perhaps he could pay himself out of his interminable contract and escape.  The distant possibility of his emancipation was still there, but now he realized that it didn’t matter at all. 
He
didn’t matter at all.  In his twenty-four years of living Ryan Jenkins had not made a positive or negative impact on anyone.  In his life he had been a small-time crook whose own friends had sold him out; in his many deaths he was merely an average soldier.  Ryan Jenkins hadn’t loved.  He hadn’t fought for some ideal.  He had said no grand speeches.  He was no paragon or saint; he was no villain or nemesis.