“Hmmm, hmmm…” Malcus mumbled. Even the way he talked was weird. The sound of his voice grated on my nerves. “Come now, Mr. Tanner. We both know what you’re saying can’t be true. A man doesn’t just ‘pass through’ the Techborn lands. Not without a very good reason.”

  I kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t about to spill my guts to this lunatic, no matter how much he prodded. My mission, my capabilities... that was my business, and mine alone.

  Malcus sighed, like he was disappointed in me. “Very well. Keep your secrets, for now. But know this, Mr. Tanner: in Arabella’s labs, there are no secrets. It is a strict place. Only truth is allowed there, laid bare by the unforgiving light of science.”

  He left me alone at last.

  An hour later, the wagon train crested the rim of a blast-crater. It was then I got my first look at Arabella.

  The crashed starship was quite a sight, I’ll give the colonists that much. The massive vessel lay on its side like a beached leviathan. It had been transformed into a makeshift city. They’d built up a scaffolding that covered most of the ship’s metal skin, adding layers and balconies over time. The result was a tangled mess of cables, jutting superstructures and sun-rotted fabrics.

  Here and there, knobby modules thrust from the hull, clinging to it like parasites. In one of these was a leafy garden that glowed with an odd bioluminescence. Every plant there looking like something out of a night terror.

  The top deck was cracked wide, exposing the innards of the ship. It was like looking into the guts of some great beast.

  The surrounding crater was full of grim industries. They belched smoke and steam into the air. Those unnatural chemical stinks were shocking, a potpourri of toxins and decay.

  I’ve seen some oddities in my time, but this was something else. The scale of it, the sheer audacity of what the Techborn had built here... it was impressive, in a sick sort of way.

  Malcus had returned on his walker. He was watching me, with his freaky smile riding on his face. He was waiting for me to give something away, I supposed. I tried to look wall-eyed and bored. I didn’t want to give him any kind of satisfaction.

  We passed through a bustling marketplace just outside Arabella. It was a chaotic mess of sights, sounds, and smells. Bizarre alien goods were being hawked by Techborn traders, their voices rising above the din. I saw things I couldn’t even begin to identify. Strange fruits, glowing crystals, tech that looked advanced for the primitive state of this colony.

  And then there were the slaves. Dusters, chained together like animals. They were being bought and sold like cattle, their eyes hollow and defeated. It made my blood boil. No one deserved to live like that.

  The Techborn were in their element here. Bargaining aggressively, haggling over prices. They didn’t care about the lives they were ruining. To them, it was just business.

  Malcus was still talking, his voice grating on my nerves. He pointed out the “efficiencies” of Techborn rule. The benefits of their harsh governance.

  “You see, Mr. Tanner,” he said, “we’ve brought order to this chaotic world. Under our rule, everyone has a place. Everyone serves a purpose.”

  I wanted to tell him where he could stick his purpose. But I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

  Malcus was getting more animated now, his eyes gleaming with pride. “I’ve played a key role in shaping this society,” he said. “My work has been instrumental in advancing the Techborn cause.”

  I’ll bet it has, I thought. Unnatural experiments on genetic monstrosities, and all in the name of progress…

  The Techborn had taken a starship, a marvel of human ingenuity, and turned it into a monument to their own freakish ambitions. They’d built a civilization on the bones of their ancestors, and they weren’t going to let anyone else have even a nibble of it.

  The convoy rolled on, passing down the crater wall and getting ever closer to the hulk of the wrecked ship. I sat back in my squalid cage, scheming.

  As we drew closer, the ship seemed bigger every passing minute. From a distance, it had looked big—but now, it was like a stadium—bigger than that. Cables and pipes snaked out from the hull, burrowing into the ground. They drank water and nursed power from somewhere deep.

  Sensing they were nearing home and the end of their long journey, the Tuskers picked up the pace. Their pounding feet threw up dust and gravel.

  At last, we reached the gloom of the entrance. We passed through a gaping hole in the hull, entering the belly of the beast. The interior was a maze of passages and chambers, lit by flickering lights. The air was thicker, somehow. Less wholesome.

  Malcus moved to the front of his column. His unique walker glided effortlessly over the uneven ground. We passed by labs and workshops, each one filled with strange machines and even stranger creatures. I caught glimpses of things that shouldn’t exist, things that defied the laws of nature.

  When we came to a crossroads, where a ramp led up toward the bridge and another down into the darkness—Malcus chose to descend.

  I wasn’t surprised. Who would put a torture chamber on the roof? No, such things were meant to exist only deep under the surface.

  Chapter 12

  Arabella’s innards were a nightmare fusion of old and new. Sleek bulkheads melded with crude scrap metal patches. Wires dangled from the ceiling like electric vines. The Techborn had gutted the ship, repurposing it for their own ends.

  Malcus led us through the labyrinth of corridors. His walker’s metal feet clanked against the decking. The sound echoed off the walls.

  We passed by viewing ports, giving glimpses into labs. Inside, Techborn scientists scurried about. They tended to strange machines cobbled together from ship parts. Coils of tubes pulsed with glowing fluids. Vials of murky liquid bubbled on hotplates.

  It was like stepping into a mad scientist’s fever dream. Human tech merged with alien components in unsettling ways. Screens flickered with streams of indecipherable data. Consoles blinked and chirped, speaking in an electronic tongue.

  I had to admit, I was curious. What kind of unholy advancements were they cooking up in here? What secrets had they pried from Arabella’s databanks? Part of me wanted to dig deeper—to unravel mysteries—but mostly, I was repulsed. This place reeked of evil, of science driven by ruthless necessity. The Techborn would stop at nothing to survive, to dominate. Apparently, I was just another guinea pig to them.

  Malcus was rambling on about his work again. He blathered about breakthroughs he’d made in genetics, in robotics, in things I could barely wrap my head around. His words were melted arrogance. He obviously had an unshakable belief in his own brilliance.

  I tuned him out after a while and focused on my surroundings. I was looking for anything I could use. Any advantage I could press into service. I was in trouble now. It was increasingly clear I was at the mercy of a madman.

  Malcus paused at last before a reinforced door. He typed a code into the keypad. The door slid open with a pneumatic hiss, revealing the chamber beyond.

  “Welcome to my inner sanctum, Mr. Tanner,” Malcus said, sweeping his arm in invitation. “I think you’ll find it quite... illuminating.”

  The two Tuskers who had dragged me all those miles unbridled themselves. I didn’t know they could do that. I was dragged out of the cage by these stinky monsters—the rest of the captives stayed huddled within.

  Following Malcus—because the Tuskers forced me to—I stepped inside his lair. The door closed behind us with a resounding clang.

  Great. I’d been sealed into a high-tech mousetrap. I wondered what horrors Malcus had in store.

  There was a transparent tube waiting, tipped over and slimy with old water and grease. The Tuskers stuffed me in there, the way a kid would put a captive frog into a jar. They stood the tube up. It was roughly one meter in diameter and three high. I tapped at the walls experimentally. They seemed sound enough.

  The tube’s slick walls pressed against my skin as robotic arms descended and tore at my clothes. These polymer tentacles ripped the fabric to shreds, exposing my flesh. Naked again? Shit.

  I gritted my teeth, determined not to show an ounce of fear. Foul-smelling liquid sloshed around my feet. It was cold and slippery, like the mucus of some alien creature. The stuff glowed a sickly green, casting light in a way that it shouldn’t throughout the chamber.

  There were other tubes nearby. Each one held a poor bastard like me. Humans, aliens—creatures I couldn’t even name. All of them were stripped bare. Some had tubes and wires running into their flesh. Others were entirely submerged in that vile fluid.

  Great.

  The air of my small chamber reeked of chemicals, of sterility and wrongness. It clung to the back of my throat, making me want to gag. But I swallowed it down. Kept my face a mask of stone.

  My balls were trying to crawl back up inside me. Every instinct screamed to fight. To break free of this glass coffin and unleash hell. But I forced myself to be still. To wait for my moment. It would come.

  Malcus watched from outside, his face split by a cruel grin. He was getting off on this, the sick freak. He’d probably dreamed of having me since he’d heard about what I’d pulled off out at Fishjumper Lake.

  Well, he’d better enjoy it while he could. Because when I got out of here, I was going to show him a whole new world of fun—my kind of fun.

  The robotic arms retracted, leaving me naked and seething. Green goop lapped higher now, reaching my thighs. It was rising slowly, as if savoring my discomfort.

  I met Malcus’ gaze through the glass. I poured all my hatred and defiance into that single look. I wanted him to see the promise of retribution burning in my eyes.

  Eventually, the liquid reached my chin. I took one last breath, held it deep in my lungs. I would let the darkness take me, sinking into the cold embrace of oblivion.

  The world went dark as the fluid closed over my head. I held my breath, of course, refusing to let this vile sludge violate me further. My lungs burned, but I welcomed the pain. It kept me going—that, and anger.

  Suddenly, the liquid drained away. I gasped for air, blinking the goop from my eyes. Malcus was off to one side, frowning. I hadn’t seen him frown since I’d put my buzzblade up to his throat. It made my heart sing.

  Instead of the nasty old freak, a woman stood before my tube. She appraised me with her eyes, like a prized pig. She was a Techborn all right—but she looked different than the others.

  Platinum hair framed a face that was all sharp angles and cold beauty. Her eyes were the blue of a frozen lake, piercing and merciless. She wore a form-fitting black dress that clung to her figure, adorned with glowing circuitry patterns. A high collar framed her neck, giving her a regal air.

  “Baroness Callista Vance,” Malcus simpered, bowing like a whipped dog. “May I present our newest acquisition?”

  Callista ignored him, those glacial eyes never leaving mine. “This is the aberration? Dane Tanner? I’ve heard much about this creature. He’s obviously muscular and competent—but he doesn’t look all that dangerous to me.”

  Her voice was silk wrapped around a dagger. She sounded soft, but deadly. I met her gaze, refusing to be cowed. “Funny, I’ve never heard of you at all.”

  Her lips cinched up into a pink bump. “And yet, here you are. Trapped like an insect in amber, at my mercy.”

  She placed a hand on the glass, long fingers splayed. “Tell me, Mr. Tanner. What do you fear most? Death? Pain? Or the loss of your precious free will?”

  I slammed out a laugh. “Lady, I’ve stared down things that would make your pretty hair turn even whiter. You don’t scare me.”

  “Brave words. But I wonder... is it courage that drives you? Or simple ignorance of what we are truly capable of?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I just don’t give a damn. You want to poke at me, learn what makes me tick? Go for it.”

  Callista tilted her head, considering. “Such defiance. Such... fire. I begin to see why you have caused us so much trouble.”

  She turned to Malcus, who practically quivered with anticipation. “Move on to the next phase. I want to see what he’s capable of.”

  Malcus nodded eagerly. “Of course, Baroness. It will be my pleasure.”

  Callista’s eyes flicked back to me. “We shall see if his bravado survives what comes next.”

  With that, she stepped back from the wall of the tube and left me to Malcus and his twisted glee. He adjusted some valves at the base of the tube. A blast of much colder water hit me like a frozen fist. It flooded the tube in an instant, stealing my breath and shocking my system.

  I tried to gasp but only sucked in liquid. The cold was a living thing, wrapping icy tentacles around my body and squeezing. Now I understood why there was slimy glycerin in the tank. Such substances lowered the freezing point of water.

  I thrashed on instinct, fighting the urge to panic. My muscles seized up, cramping viciously. It felt like my blood had turned to slush in my veins, but I couldn’t let it beat me. I couldn’t give Malcus the satisfaction.

  So, I let my limbs go slack, conserving oxygen. Retreating into my mind, to that place of calm at the center of the storm. I’d learned that trick in the forces. When things got bad, you disconnected. Let training take over.

  The water was so cold it burned, like a thousand needles stabbing into my skin. But pain was an old friend. I knew how to compartmentalize. To push through. Pretty soon, I grew numb.

  I wondered if my heart would stop—but I worked hard not to care.

  Callista was watching. Her eyes registered fascination. It was as if she was cataloging every grimace, every flinch. I was pretty sure she was getting off on my suffering.

  Time stretched. Seconds became hours, then became days. Just as I thought my lungs would burst, the water drained away. I coughed and sputtered, dragging in ragged breaths. The air was bitterly cold against my wet skin.

  Malcus was grinning like a kid on Christmas. He tapped commands into a console, no doubt eager to start the next round. I glared at him through the glass, pouring all my hatred into that look. Damn, if I got another shot at that skinny neck…

  Callista moved closer, she traced a finger down the glass, leaving a trail of condensation. “Impressive, Mr. Tanner. Most men break immediately. It’s the tension, you see—the anticipation. Do you even wonder what’s coming next?”

  I spat out a mouthful of water. My voice was raspy but strong. “This sort of play breaks Techborns? Are you telling me all your men are pussies?”

  Callista’s lips transformed into a tight curve. “Perhaps we’ve never had a subject quite like you before.”

  Malcus was droning on about results. He muttered something about numbers and tests. The words washed over me, meaningless.

  Then, a fresh pain hit. A jolt of electricity lanced through my body like a spear. My muscles spasmed, clenching hard enough to crack a tooth. I rode it out, refusing to scream.

  Another shock came a few moments later. It was stronger this time. My back arched, fingers clawing at the smooth glass. I tasted blood, and I realized I was biting my tongue. I couldn’t stop.

  I locked eyes with Callista. I thought I saw a sick fascination there. She was getting off on this.

  The shocks kept coming. Each one was worse than the last. I lost count, lost track of time. My world narrowed to the white-hot agony, the convulsions that wracked my frame, but I didn’t fall. I didn’t scream—I didn’t break.

  Callista made notes on some kind of high-tech gadget. Her voice drifted to me, clinical and cold. She speculated about my origins and potential.

  I caught snippets here and there. There was something about resilience, about how I could be of value to the Techborn—to her.

  The pain reached a crescendo—a searing, blinding wave that threatened to consume me utterly—until I teetered on the edge of oblivion, clinging to consciousness by a thread.

  Suddenly, mercifully, it stopped. I sagged in my tube, leaning against the walls. I panted like I’d run a marathon. Every nerve ending screamed, every muscle quivered.

  But I was alive. Whole. Unbroken.

  I met Callista’s gaze once more. I saw something new there. Something that might have been respect. Or maybe just a deeper level of fascination.

  She tucked her device away, lips pursed. “Enough for now, Doctor Graven. I believe we have gathered sufficient data for the moment.”

  Malcus looked like he wanted to argue—I think he was just getting started—but he nodded. He was an obedient dog.

  “As you wish, Baroness.”

  Chapter 13

  Callista left the lab, her heels clicking on the metal floor. The door hissed shut behind her.

  Malcus turned to me, his eyes glinting with something dark and hungry. Gone was the obedient lap dog routine. All of that had been replaced by a man’s drive to the edge of obsession. He stalked towards my prison, datapad in hand.

  “You’re not from here,” he said, his voice low and intense. “Your genetic makeup, your bone density, even your blood has the wrong chemical signatures... it’s all wrong.”

  He tapped at the datapad, and a holographic display sprang to life. DNA helixes spun lazily, accompanied by charts and graphs that meant nothing to me. But Malcus was riveted, his gaze flicking between the data and my face.

  “You’re something new, something different, and I intend to find out exactly what makes you function at such a high level. Grix, get the cart!”

  He gestured to his assistant, a gaunt man with dead eyes and a blank expression. Grix nodded, moving to a nearby table. My eyes squinched up hard when I saw what was laid out there.

  Scalpels, bone saws, a tray full of gleaming surgical tools—each one more wicked-looking than the last. The assistant began to arrange them with precise, clinical movements.

  I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my breathing even and my face impassive, but inside, my mind was racing. I was trapped, at the mercy of a madman with a scalpel—a lot of scalpels. I had no idea how I was going to get out of this one.