Free Black Hole Sun by David Macinnis Gill Page B

spend a day and a night in stocks. The Regulators commissioned to Stringfellow gathered in the temple square, all three hundred of them. When the clock struck signaling the end of his time in the stocks, they all committed suicide, an act that showed true sacrifice. Only two Regulators refused to join the ritual. Me. Because my father forbade me to kill myself. And Vienne, who had sworn her life in service to my own. That’s how we became dalit . Masterless. Outcast. Pariah.
    â€œWhat? What did you say, Jacob?”
    â€œI said, Father, that if I’d had my wish, I’d have died horribly alongside your other Regulators.”
    â€œAnd wasted a lifetime of planning and hard work. They need you, Jacob. How could I deny this planet its savior because of a senseless, antiquated ritual?”
    â€œRegulators live by those rituals. The Tenets—”
    â€œSpare me the cant about the Tenets. They’re as useless as the old fools who wrote them generations ago. We live in modern times, Jacob. They call for modern men. TheOrthocracy is dead. The CorpCom government is a passing phase, a transition to a new government that will rise from the ashes of both! That government needs you.”
    I signal for him to keep his voice down. “Father, your words are a thin line from treason.”
    â€œIt is the thinnest lines that define us, Jacob.”
    â€œDefine you. Not me.”
    â€œIf you cared about your father, you would stop this foolish charade!” Flecks of spit splatter the Plexi. “And become the man I designed you to be!”
    I shake my head slowly. Rub the thick, rubbery scar on my temple. Every time, the same conversation. Yes, he calculated every possible variable, added every ingredient he could control. Maybe I should’ve become more than I am. Maybe he should’ve thought of that before he released the deadliest beasts on Mars on his own troops. Troops that included me.
    â€œAnswer me!” he bellows.
    Above us, a tone sounds. A guard appears behind Father. I stand. Make the fist in palm sign of the Regulator and bow low to show my respect.
    My father is a fallen angel, I tell myself, but when I rise, he’s gone.
    Â 
    When I leave the prison, I see two shadows on either side of the catwalk, and I know something’s amiss.
    â€œMimi,” I say after tapping my temple. “Don’t evenbother with a scan. I recognize the stink of collectors when I smell it.”
    â€œToo late,” she says. “I pinpointed them while you were still at the guardhouse.”
    â€œThanks, by the way,” I say. “For giving a few minutes alone with Father.”
    â€œBelieve me when I say, cowboy, it was my pleasure.”
    Mimi hates Father. Can’t blame her. He’s the one, after all, who caused her death.
    It takes a few seconds for the collectors to appear. Two males. Age-tens. When I head for the traffic signal, they sidle up. Both wear light gray suits with high, black tab collars. Pretending to be men of the cloth. The disguise is a good one, and most citizens of New Eden keep their distance. During the Orthocracy, priests were dangerous men. No one has forgotten that.
    â€œOy, Durango,” the taller one says. “Heard you pulled a job. Impressive. Except the kidnapper you hit has connections. Unhappy connections, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œMimi?” I say as we reach the far side of the street. I turn for the entrance to the Tube. “They’re packing, right?”
    â€œService revolvers,” she says. “CorpCom shock trooper standard issue. Be careful.”
    â€œAren’t I always?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œOy!” the tall man says. Punches me in the back, and the armor absorbs the blow. Hope he skinned his knuckles.
    I turn on him. Grab his fist, which is ready for another punch. Give it a squeeze, which he feels through his glove. “Save the chitchat, messenger boy. What does Mr. Lyme