Title: Redstone Chapter 14, Part 1
Nearly all of life for prisoners in Redstone necessitated a
waiting game.
They waited for food, most of them crowding around the
troughs that opened in the walls like the pigs they were forced to imitate, the
more powerful or the weakest ones hanging back to be served by subordinates or
steal a bite when no one was watching.
They waited for a chance to get clean: the showers came on
once a day, for five minutes. Cold to wet you down, briefly hot with a spray of
soap to cleanse, and then cold again. There were two rooms for showering,
ostensibly divided by gender, but in reality one belonged to Klia, one to Rory.
There was a hierarchy of cleanliness, as with everything, and if you weren’t
part of a crew you either had to beg a bucket from someone, find a new source
for water, or risk getting naked in among the press of some of the worst
humanity the Federation had to offer. Outright rape was common, and “voluntary
servicing” in the showers even more so.
Prisoners waited for the most basic of amenities, with
wild-eyed fear and resigned acceptance and feral, savage glee. Prisoners who
ran the show made other people wait for them, but in the end everybody waited. The constant lack of
occupation led to people making their own, mostly in the worst ways possible.
Bloodsports, gambling, sex and murder: they were brutal past times, but at
least they gave people something to do.
An unexpected side effect of his new, strange status in
Redstone was that Isidore suddenly had more
free time than he’d had before. It wasn’t a welcome development. He has a
master trader, the man who could get people things that worked in strange ways,
surprising ways. He could help piece together a revenge or soothe an ache or
shed a ray of light into darkness so complete it felt like being inside a cold,
dead womb at times. He traded for what he needed, and he had enough spare parts
set aside that he could afford to trade for Kyle as well. It took time to make
all the things that people wanted, though, and that pleasantly occupied time
had before now been the best part of his day. After coming to an accord with
Rory, though…
“Hello, pet,” Pence purred as he suddenly appeared in their
section of the hall. Kyle started, and the only reason Isidore didn’t jump was
because he was welding something and had trained himself out of being surprised
when he was holding the sort of heat that could melt metal. He turned his
machine off and glared at Pence.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wished for a glimpse into the heart of the dragon, where
you two darling boys have made your hearth and home!” he said with a smile. “I
must say, it’s just as uncomfortable as advertised. How on earth do you stand
the pull?”
“Willpower.” In reality, Isidore was so used to the way the
iron tugged at his blood that he barely noticed it now. Kyle had so recently
been in the tank that his body was still minimizing the side effects: the
nausea, the headaches, the way the magnetism could make your skin crawl.
Hopefully they’d be out of here by the time their surroundings really began to
tell on him. “What do you want?”
“I came to deliver your offerings, of course.”
“What kind of offerings?” Kyle asked, trying not to show his
sudden interest. What was occupation for Isidore wasn’t quite as entertaining
for Kyle, who was a decent engineer but didn’t find inspiration in it.
“Pure and holy offerings of esteem and sacrifice, to the man
who went to a one-on-one meeting with Rory and lived to tell the tale, little
lamb,” Pence said, slinging a bag off of his shoulder and laying it out on the
ground.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Isidore said with a sigh.
“I can be a dick too, if that’s more your style, love,”
Pence said instantly. Kyle almost smiled, which delighted the interloper. “Aw,
your lamb likes me, Isidore. Doesn’t his regard soften your heart toward me?”
“No, not really.” There was only one way this was going to
end, though, and that was with Pence making his presentation. “Fine. Show me
what you’ve brought.”
“First, let me just say how utterly horrifying it was to be
hunted down by representatives from the biggest sides in our never-ending battle
and told I was the perfect delivery boy,” Pence said, a frown coming to his ruddy
face. “I didn’t think my favoritism was that blatant, but then I’m not good at
ignoring beautiful things and you’ve not beaten me senseless yet, so I suppose
people were bound to think we liked each other.”
“Which is wrong.”
“Oh darling, don’t play coy. You know I adore you,” Pence
said brightly. “If I didn’t, I would just have kept all this wonderful supplies
for myself. Yet here I am, laying it at your feet.”
“You would never have held onto it by yourself,” Isidore
retorted. “You’d have been mugged in a matter of minutes if you hadn’t brought
this stuff down to me.”
“Beloved, it’s all a matter of perspective; we’ll just have
to agree to disagree,” Pence said. “Now, let’s survey your spoils, shall we?
Food bars from Klia’s side of the fence—I hadn’t thought you did much business
with her, she must really be desperate to get on your good side now,” he noted.
“A bucket of water, pre-soaped from this morning’s ablutions courtesy of Rory.
That was quite fucking heavy, by the way, my dove. It almost broke my back with
its splish-splashing about.”
“Yet you persevered,” Isidore said dryly.
“Well, it’s rather a precious resource, isn’t it? I couldn’t
very well spill it and let it go to waste. Speaking of spilling, there’s a
canteen of drinking water in there was well, and some prodigious inventor even
included a vial of what I can only suppose is…” Pence unscrewed the top of the
medicine vial, took one sniff and promptly started coughing. “A bloody fucking
paralytic,” he managed around his coughs. “Dear heart, take it before I spill
it everywhere.”
Kyle got there before Isidore. He sniffed it, smiled, and
then took a sip. Isidore could smell the pungent odor of the rotgut from five
feet away; he could only imagine how absolutely foul it had to taste. “How can
you possibly drink that?”
Kyle shrugged. “I went to prep school. Alcohol on site was
forbidden, so we had to brew our own in secret. Meal bars were a good way to do
it, actually, there’s lots of sugar in them. I got drunk off this stuff for the
first time when I was fourteen.” He sipped again. “This is better than most of
what I got back then, actually.”
“I never thought of prep school as such a dangerous place,”
Pence said once he’d caught his breath. “Honestly, drinking that must be like
getting kicked in the testicles, if your testicles reside in your throat.
You’re a masochist of the first order, little lamb.” He cast a sly sidelong
glance at Isidore. “My understanding of your preferences has just grown by
leaps and bounds, petal. I’d let you hurt me if it truly made you happy.” He
pointed at the half-full vial. “But not with that. Bind me, whip me, make me
call you papa while you bugger me senseless, but leave that vile chemistry out
of it.”
“Are you done?” Isidore demanded. “Because if that’s all,
you can go.”
Pence frowned. “What, don’t I get a smidgeon of praise for
bringing your gifts all this way? Can’t you spare me a soupçon of your regard
and, possibly, your largesse for my efforts?”
“You can’t honestly tell me that you haven’t already lifted
a meal bar or three from the stash you brought me.”
Pence grinned unrepentantly. “You know me so well, my dove!
But only two, because I’m not a fool. Much more than that and someone would
sniff me out. Still, I’d happily accept a kiss in exchange for my services.”
“You remind me of an old fairy tale,” Kyle said suddenly.
“The frog prince. Only in this case you’re bringing your own golden ball to the
princess and demanding that she take it in exchange for a kiss.”
“I like how you so easily cast your mentor in the role of
princess. It speaks volumes about your level of comfort together,” Pence
remarked. “And I think I’d rather be thought of as…Puss in Boots.”
Isidore wasn’t following, but whatever that meant made Kyle
smile. “I can see that.”
“You’re a well-educated man,” Pence congratulated him before
returning his attention to Isidore. “Now, darling. Please.”
Whether it was because Pence begged with such blatant
insincerity, or because he could make Kyle grin, Isidore decided to be
generous. Besides, it had been a long time since he’d seen this much water
himself. “How about a hot bath?”
Pence’s eyes went wide. “Petal, don’t tease.”
“I’m serious. Faces, hands, underarms and groins only; this
water has to last all three of us. And don’t even think about getting naked.”
“But you want me to very thoroughly
clean my groin, don’t you?”
“Be as thorough as you like, just stay decent.” Isidore got
his welding tool out and opened up the container of slightly gray water. A
three-second blast should do it before too much of it went up in steam…he
lowered the tip into the water, and then turned on the heat.
There was steam by the time he was done, thin, enticing
tendrils floating off the top of the water, but almost none of the water was
wasted. Pence and Kyle both moved in and dipped their fingertips
simultaneously. Kyle seemed pleased, but the look of rapture on Pence’s face
verged on orgasmic.
“Hot water,” he breathed. “I haven’t felt hot water since
the last time I was forced into the showers. Two years ago now,” he added
absently, missing or ignoring the look that Isidore and Kyle shared. “What
bliss.”
Isidore sighed. Being nice probably wasn’t going to pay off
in the long run, but he couldn’t help it. “You two go first. Don’t use it all.”
“Oh, darling.” The smile Pence turned on him was the most
genuine expression he’d ever seen on the man. “You might have to tie me up to
stop me, but I’ll try to be good. Thank you.”
Isidore nodded. “You’re welcome.”
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