Mercenaries’ Tale – 4.01 Gratin’s Story
Tales of Sin, The Mercenaries’ Tale: Act Four
Polaris
“…How droll. The three of you here, and you each believe that together you might have the slightest of chances of overcoming me…”
There was the low groan of an engine and the sound of music. Those were the first things Gratin was aware of as he clawed his way back to consciousness. His head was throbbing and his mouth was dry. If he hadn’t known better then he would have thought he’d been drinking. It certainly felt like something had been working away at his system, which was a foreign feeling. It usually took a lot to leave him in this sorry state; there was something about the way mages’ brains were wired that made them less susceptible to outside influences such as alcohol. This didn’t bode well.
It took several minutes before his head felt clear enough to be able to consolidate his senses and begin taking in his surroundings. He was in some manner of vehicle, a roof over his head and the seat below him gently rocking as the vehicle manoeuvred itself across uneven terrain. He had been strapped into the seat, the belt holding him in a sitting position. Doug’s bionic arm lay across the seat beside him, the hand resting on his lap. The heat he could sense beyond the confines of the vehicle informed him that they were still in the desert, an old and worn tarmac road stretching out for miles both behind and in front of them.
His friends were sitting in the front, Doug driving and Kate in the passenger seat fiddling with her music player which was currently plugged into the car’s stereo system. The two were bickering.
“I still wish you’d let me drive,”
“For the last time, no one’s out here! We’re not gonna get pulled over!”
“This car is left-hand drive. I can clearly see that you’re struggling with the gear changes. You’ve nearly driven into a ditch five times already,”
“Well maybe you should’ve let me take the convertible. That was right-hand drive and I’m pretty sure it was an automatic!”
“It wasn’t exactly inconspicuous,”
“We haven’t seen anybody since the service station,”
“There’ll be more people around when we reach the airfield. Roaring up in that sports car would’ve had all of them notice us. I’ll rather keep any attention on us to a minimum. Besides, it’s not like you would’ve been able to keep it. Doubt they’d have room on the plane for a start and I bet it had a tracker chip to boot,”
“It might not have,”
“You know it did. It was too flash not to,”
“I coulda disabled it,”
“Are we really still arguing about this?
“You’re the one complaining about this being left-hand drive when we could’ve gotten a perfectly good right-hand one,”
“And you didn’t have to drive,”
“Congratulations, you have gone full-circle,” Gratin interrupted irritably, “can you be quiet now? You both sound like an old married couple and my head still feels very tender. I fear it may crack open like an egg at any second.”
The sound of the mage’s voice caused the two humans to pause. Kate then turned in her seat in order to get a good look at him, her face awash with relief.
“You’re alright?! I thought for sure we were going to have to try and find a doctor or some sort of magic equivalent!” Gratin rubbed his head to try and ease the aching, wincing at Kate’s exclamation.
“Quiet voices, please. I was not exaggerating when I said I was still sore,” he said.
“Sorry…”
“I do not believe I require medical aid. Rest and a good meal should suffice,” Gratin informed them.
“Worked for me!” japed Doug, “welcome back to the land of the living, mate!”
“Thank you.”
There was a pause, the little car continuing to zip down the stretch of road, the tarmac stretching off across the horizon. It was peaceful, not another soul for miles.
Gratin couldn’t help but feel that something was expected of him, the Mistress watching him like a hawk over her seat’s headrest and Gratin was sure that the Meatbag kept glancing at him in the rear-view mirror as well. He could feel their eyes on him, the tension palpable.
Gratin cleared his throat.
“What is our destination, exactly?” he questioned, feeling somewhat uneasy by the attention his friends were giving him.
“At the moment we’re just hoping to get as far away from the power plant as possible. Annie thinks there’s an airfield up ahead somewhere. We’re meeting her and the boys there,” Kate explained.
“Are we continuing to work with them from here on out?”
“Nah, they’ve gotta get back to their bosses at New Dawn. Annie just wants to say goodbye to Red properly before they head off. No idea where we’re gonna go yet. Salmanic’s not too happy with us so dunno how safe going back to the City’s gonna be,” Doug chimed in, Kate nodding.
“Been too nervous to turn on the radio to be honest. Nobody’s supposed to see inside the power plant without Salmanic’s say so and we definitely did not have their say so…”
“I’m tryin’ to be optimistic myself. S’not like there’s much they can do now we’ve seen the place and gotten away. They might send some assassins, tops, to make sure we don’t talk but that’s not something we couldn’t handle,” said Doug with a shrug.
“Actually it could get a lot worse than that…”
“Oh?”
“They might try and spin it so that we end up taking the blame for the pipe bombings. It’s not like anyone besides us and a handful of Salmanic employees know the truth. We might wind up with all the law enforcement they can throw at us chasing after us. Or even the PSF if their spin doctors and bribe money are good enough…”
“Bull, they can’t get away with that… Can they?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time. They’ve done it before.”
“When?”
“Two words; Cecilia Salmanic,” Kate grimly told him. Doug frowned.
“Silverton’s wife?”
“Mmmhmm, died mysteriously three years ago. Press blamed New Dawn. Only the thing is, New Dawn were actually trying to recruit her. There was a big internal investigation, New Dawn couldn’t find any evidence whatsoever that said anyone affiliated with them killed her off. Try telling that to the media though. It’s Salmanic’s word against New Dawn’s and Salmanic’s word is law. Same thing could easily happen to us, stands to reason,” she summarised. Doug frowned.
“Would he waste all that on us? We’re nobodies!”
“Nobodies who saw Silverton’s biggest secret. You want to bet on it?”
“All right, yeah!”
Kate unplugged her music player from the stereo and turned on the radio, twiddling the knobs until she found a news report.
“-The authorities are on high alert after these terrorist attacks on the Salmanic pipeline, Salmanic themselves offering a 500,000Kr reward to anyone that apprehends the terrorists. They are believed to be armed and extremely dangerous. Approach with extreme caution. They are Katherine “Blaise” O’Donnell, a former New Dawn terrorist; Douglas McCracken, a former PSF soldier and wanted criminal; and Gratin, a grade six fire mage believed to be using an alias. Salmanic are also offering payment for any information regarding these three terrorists-” Kate shut the radio off again and turned to Doug, the “I told you so” clearly visible on her face. Doug’s eyes were on the road, the cigarette in his mouth drooping as he mulled this turn of events over. It was an unlit cigarette, Doug merely having wanted something to chew on until he had a hand free to smoke up properly.
“Well Shit. My Aunt’s gonna kill me… I’d give you a tenner but my wallet’s in my back pocket and, you know, one arm…” he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel for emphasis and chuckled nervously. Kate plugged her music back in.
“And that’s why I didn’t want to take the sports car.”
“Alright, a twenty then,” Doug conceded, causing a smile to flicker across Kate’s face. Her eyeline gravitated back towards the passenger on the back seat.
“Of course, we apparently have a queue of people after us now. We might have to start giving out tickets soon to keep things orderly…” Gratin’s head took up a sideways lean as he regarded the gunslinger. It was unlike Blaise to be cracking jokes at a time like this, although the thought of “Kate” being a somewhat different entity to “Blaise” briefly crossed his mind.
“You seem in high spirits, all things considered,” he commented. Doug and Kate exchanged a brief glance, Gratin’s empathic abilities picking up a bubble of warmth enveloping the two.
“Despite all the shit, the trip’s been kinda therapeutic to be honest mate…” said Doug, a grin on his face.
“That being said, there’s still a few questions that need sorting out…” Kate added. Gratin’s face remained blank as the other two waited for a response from him. Doug grew impatient.
“Come on Archie, it’s your turn for story time! We’ve both done it!”
“What Doug means is – and we don’t want you to feel like we’re bullying you into anything here – but we don’t feel like you’ve been entirely honest with us. In other words-”
“-What the fuck was up with those bastards that broke into the plant and tried to run off with you?!” Doug – ever the one with a way with words – summarised. Kate rolled her eyes. Gratin’s head drooped, the mage taking to staring at the floor.
“I apologise. I had not known what Abaddon’s employers were capable of…”
“Abaddon?”
“Fucked up face guy?” the other two mercs spoke in unison, both equally confused.
“What’s that bastard got to do with this?”
“I thought you said he worked for the Tserulian monastery. Those did not look like mages or monks and that’s putting it lightly…”
“I fear there may be more than one bounty on my head,”
“We kinda figured that out for ourselves, Archie. How come so many people are after you? And what’s a GR-whatsit anyway?”
“Would you believe me if I told you that I could not remember?”
“Seriously?” stated Kate, deadpan. Gratin sighed, slumping into his seat and rubbing his face. He looked tired.
“My tale begins twelve years ago…”
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
Everything was cold. Cold and wet. Thick liquid, like treacle, was all around, Gratin submerged. Something was clamped to his face, some manner of tube protruding down his throat. This fact became very apparent as the muzzy fog of sleep slowly rescinded and Gratin’s eyes fluttered open.
He was floating in a tube, his arms chained to the floor. The tube was filled with a thick, bubbling gel-like substance. A mask was attached to the lower half of his face. More tubes and wires were attached to various parts of his anatomy, the other ends connected to the ceiling of his small prison.
Confused panic began to set in, Gratin pulling at his chains, the links unyielding. He began to yank more frantically, muffled cries escaping his lips. Everything before this point was blank.
Why was he here?
Why was he restrained?
What was this?
It didn’t make any sense!
The yanking turned into violent thrashing in his desperation to get loose. The liquid began to feel warmer. The bubbles increased, the chains around his wrists began to glow bright red. With one final thrust, the chain gave way, the links snapping.
His arms now free, Gratin placed his palms on the glass wall of the tube. The glass began to melt, Gratin falling out of the resulting hole and into the dark room beyond.
The tiled floor was freezing cold against his naked flesh. Gratin lay there, panting as he attempted to catch his breath. As soon as he were ready, he reached up and grabbed the tubes running into the face mask. Grip tightened, he began to tug, the tubes currently running down his throat beginning to retreat back out into open air. They brought stomach acid with them, Gratin spewing the contents of his stomach across the floor as the tubes came free.
Breathing heavily, he looked around the darkened room, eyes settling on the open door on the far wall. After ridding himself of the other tubes and wiring, he shakily tried to stand. It took a couple of attempts, Gratin stumbling, falling back to his knees, then using the wall to help himself to his feet. On unsteady limbs, Gratin shuffled forward like a toddler learning to walk.
The corridor beyond was just as dark and just as cold. Gratin made his way down it, naked and alone, his breathing slowly evening out. Eventually he came to a t-junction. It was at this point that he realised he was no longer alone. Two creatures were standing down the connecting corridor: bipedal and slightly taller than Gratin by a foot, wearing some manner of black coverings with a green symbol the escapee did not recognise. The bipeds seemed shocked by his sudden appearance, the two beginning to gibber. The nearest raised its arms, the other reaching for an oblong attached to its waist. The first made a number of low, bleating noises as he slowly approached. Gratin shrank back, looking for an exit. His attention was drawn towards a wall with a glowing green light arranged into the forms of a number of strange symbols. The second one must have been worried by where the naked man was looking as it let out a yell and pointed the oblong at him. It pressed a button, the oblong firing some wires at Gratin that attached to his skin. Electricity flowed into him, Gratin’s muscles seizing up and forcing him to his knees.
The two bipeds began to bleat in disagreement at one another, the second of the two holding down the button on its device.
The air around Gratin began to heat up, flames beginning to sprout off his flesh. With a scream, the flames pulsed out and the corridor exploded. Gratin became aware of the lack of electricity paralysing him the same time he realised that there was now a draft. The bipedal creatures had collapsed and had become badly charred. There was also now a gaping hole in the wall revealing a snowy landscape under a night sky. Eager not to run into any more hostile bipeds, Gratin staggered out into the frigid air.
The wind biting at his exposed flesh, Gratin didn’t make it very far before collapsing into a snowdrift. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was another couple of bipedal creatures, this time adorned with crimson robes making their way through the snowstorm towards him…
⁎ ⁎ ⁎
“What happened next?” Kate asked, staring at him over her headrest. Gratin’s shoulders bobbed up and down in a shrugging motion.
“I awoke in a hospital in the monastery. Apparently they had a few agents working in the area close to where I was being held captive. I believe they were the reason why the facility experienced the power-cut that disrupted the machinery containing me, allowing me to awaken,” he explained.
“And you couldn’t remember anything from before?”
“No. I could not even understand English. The healers could not bring my memories back so some psychics had to imprint the language onto me so that I could be fully questioned. The Grand Master was very curious as to how a man with seemingly no past could be such a powerful magic user. It was the healers that informed me that I had been found on this planet, in Polaris.”
“And you think these “G” men were experimenting on you like what Salmanic’s been doing to all those mages at the power plant?” asked Doug, glancing up at the rear-view mirror.
“I believe it to be possible. Perhaps they were further testing the drug Salmanic used to lobotomise those Darkworlders? Or maybe I was an initial test subject they had kept to examine the long term effects and forgotten about? Who’s to say?”
“Unless we do some snooping, you mean. I take it that you want to find out exactly what happened to you?” Doug eagerly guessed. He was clearly becoming enthused at the prospect of making trouble for the “G” men rather then being confined to some hidden safe house somewhere, far away from any action.
“Or even why they’re suddenly so interested in taking you back. Following us into the power plant did seem like a lot of trouble to go to in order to retrieve one test subject,” stated Kate. She was less enthused, a thoughtful expression across her features, one hand rubbing the lower portion of her face as she weighed up the potential for more trouble befalling their little group.
“Precisely. Discovering who I truly am would be an acceptable outcome as well,” the mage agreed.
“I don’t know Gratin, we do have a lot of heat on us right now. Surely it’ll be better to lay low until things calm down first?” Kate began, clearly feeling uneasy.
“Where’s the fun in that?” grinned Doug, “I’m with spell head. ‘Sides, Doug McCracken ain’t about to run away with his tail between his legs just ‘cus some arsehole didn’t want to pay us properly!”
“Ever the voice of reason, aren’t you Doug?” said Kate, causing Doug to laugh. She decided it was best to ignore the fact that the reason they were now wanted was a little more complicated than Salmanic not being particularly professional in their methods of payments.
“Please, Mistress Blaise, I need to do this and I would truly appreciate your aid. Besides, I believe you “owe me one”,” the mage pointed out, facing the red head. Kate stared into the black pools of glass that were Gratin’s eyes and sighed.
“Alright, fine. I’m in. But we have to be careful! I’m looking at you Doug. We need to play this smart so you better not give into boredom halfway through and start acting reckless, deal?”
“C’mon Love, I’m the very model of playing it smart. I’m a professional, ain’t I?” Doug told her, grinning broadly. His smile was infectious, Kate finding the corners of her own mouth being pulled upwards into a smirk of her own.
“Hnn, I’ve got a list as long as my arm that’ll prove otherwise but fine. We can discuss tactics when we know more about the place we’re hitting,” this caused Doug’s grin to widen, the soldier putting his foot down. The car picked up speed.
“We better get a move on then!”
Post by Sam | October 15, 2022 at 12:01 am | The Mercenaries' Tale | No comment
Tags: Blaise, Doug McCracken, Flashback, Genetix, Gratin, Kate O'Donnell, the Mercs, vehicles and transport