Chapter Eight Just like the other Shapeshifters, Thirteen-Thirteen and his family had been moved out of the main holding room. Things had gone a lot smoother for the travel of their family than some of the less obedient Shapeshifters. Now they stood amidst a whole gathering of junior and senior officers.
“As Shapeshifter recalls under recent protocol Five-Five-Three, you have the following rights in turn. The right of free speech, the right to—” The officer glanced up from his paper no doubt read over many times today. “Do we really need to go through this? I mean they basically have no rights and are here to be terminated.”
“Jerk!” Thirteen-Ten exclaimed, taking a step forward before the one the question was addressed to could even answer, “We’re zetraloids too! You can spare a few minutes of your stupid time to read over a—”
Thirteen-Nine put her hand on his shoulder and shook her head softly. Thirteen-Ten frowned but gradually sighed, shaking his head likewise.
Officer Tekar glanced up from his paper again at the procession, mouth still open as if they had stopped him mid sentence. He closed it after awhile and shook his head.
“Fine.” He straightened himself to full height, taking particular care to make himself look quite important. “You are here by order of our governing law to be terminated. Now get moving.”
Thirteen-Ten gave the others a glare and crossed his arms. Thirteen-Nine was idly playing with the braid in her purple and white hair while Thirteen-Thirteen hid behind her, clinging to her leg.
“We’re getting good at this.” Another officer offered rather cheerfully as he ran a scanner over Thirteen-Ten, “Should be pretty quick.” His helmet fins twitched as he seemed to have noticed his error. “Sorry.”
One of the many officers standing by rolled his eyes. “Yeah…at first things weren’t working so well. Heat was too low. Took too long—quite a bit of screaming then.” He snorted. “Older ones were trying to comfort the younger ones. Yeah, lots of screaming.”
A younger zetraloid with no apparent uniform glanced up at the officer with a frown then returned to writing down notes with a shake of his silver and black head.
“Yeah.” Another agreed, “Was hard watching some of the younger ones…”
“Sirs, honestly, where is your tact?” One of the senior officers stepped forward. “Show a little sympathy, why don’t you.”
The younger zetraloid with the clipboard beside them shook his head again as if there were something irritating it. He blinked several times, rubbed at the little gold insignia on his helmet and then picked up his pencil with a shaky hand.
“It’s been a long day.” Tekar scoffed, “What’s it matter? They’re gonna die anyway.”
“So? That doesn’t mean—” He paused for a moment, watching the zetraloid with the clipboard sway from one side to the other ever so slightly. “Blend, you okay?”
He received a simple, quick nod in reply, prompting him to return to the topic at hand.
“Anyway, it doesn’t mean that—” A thump interrupted him.
He glanced over at the officers to his left, particularly the one holding the scanner. The zetraloid simply shrugged as he gazed down at the younger one now unconscious in front of him.
The senior officer turned away, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he sighed.
“Blend is down. Someone do something with him. Tekar, just finish processing the ‘Shifters.”
The officers once again resumed action. Thirteen-Ten pulled his scarf off at the command of an officer—one who’d insisted they wanted minimum junk inside the machine as it’d already been clogged numerous times. Thirteen-Thirteen frowned as he followed beside Thirteen-Nine.
The scanner zetraloid gave a quick salute. “Thirteen-Nine. Thirteen-Ten, Thirteen-Eleven, Thirteen-Twelve, Thirteen-Thirteen, I am sorry we never got properly acquainted. I’m sure you all would have made fine additions to our ranks.”
Thirteen-Nine gave a small smile and nodded. The others, silent and serious, watched around themselves. Their gazes were distracted and unfocused. Thirteen-Thirteen tightened his grip. Although he didn’t understand what was happening, the emotions of the others were plenty enough to send him into panic.
Once again they were ushered along. The officers stepped aside to create a pathway for them. It wasn’t a long walk, just that of an average room then they were standing in front of a strange door. From somewhere beyond it emitted a deep, almost grumbling whoosh similar to that of blazing fire, and on occasion the door would creak as if under stress. Its deep-black, cast-iron front gave no indication of what lie in wait however. The zetraloid in front of it was a fire Elemental which did a great deal of explaining why he didn’t seem to mind the uncomfortably warm heat radiating around them.
“More already?”
“Just open the door.”
The Elemental shrugged and grabbed a hold of a long pole. He wedged it through the handle and then pushed towards the door. A hiss escaped as it cracked open.
Thirteen-Thirteen’s helmet fins twitched. Was this the room the other Shapeshifters had mentioned? A room of fire they said. With some kind of grated floor that was so hot it could melt your feet. Thirteen-Thirteen tugged on his sister’s leg with a frown. She turned, resting her gentle violet gaze on him.
“Be brave.” She whispered, “Always be brave.”
Thirteen-Thirteen frowned again. What did that solve?
“Alright ’Shifters, time to go.”
The fire Elemental grabbed Thirteen-Nine by her arm and flung her in. Likewise he grabbed Thirteen-Thirteen and did the same. If he’d done so to the others Thirteen-Thirteen wouldn’t have known. He’d barely seen the red glow before disappearing into a haze of white.
He yelped as he hit the floor with a clank. Another long hiss. Thirteen-Thirteen breathed in only to find scorching heat tearing at his throat. He coughed and stumbled forward in the glowing blaze, body burning and aching. Blistering burns had begun to dissolve the thin metal cover of his feet into a melting mass. He cried out as he fell forward, the intense heat engulfing all around him as he writhed futilely against the burn.
Again he attempted to stand; the wiring of his feet was melting together, stringing from the remains of his feet and becoming trapped—permanently connected to the boiling floor below him. A sharp sting shot up his leg as the wiring tore free from its place. He struggled to breathe in again, claws of flames raking their jagged nails along his throat.
He fell forward, catching himself from landing face first with his hands. The floor beneath him was changing in color, deep hues of red, orange and brilliant pink. Small spatters of plasma fell from his chin and dissipated instantly on its surface. With a whine he tried pulling his hands free.
Trapped. There was no escape. No break from the simmering heat that was boiling his shapeshifting plates. With a weak cry he collapsed to the floor again and felt his fingers begin to conform to its shape with a sickening sizzle. Plasma streamed from wounds and gaping holes that had begun to appear all over. It no later bubbled and dissipated.
He gasped and nearly choked on the plasma curdling in his throat. His vision cut out for a moment, returning in shades of red.
“Niney…” He gurgled, “Nine….y.”
He reached out with one hand, dripping a mixture that he couldn’t even think to identify. He set his gaze forward into the flickering hues of red, distracted only by the occasional flaming towers that shot up from the flooring with a deafening roar. At last Thirteen-Nine appeared in the haze; just what he could presume was her purple glow, showing more as a dark shade of red.
We’ll always love you. A bright light flashed before him. An energy field. It was a rather pitiful attempt, not even entirely encasing him.
Be brave. He heard a thud amidst the hissing steam. Flaring shades of red…pain numbing into a consistent tingle. Was he alive? Sound faded out, his vision faded and left him only acutely aware of his boiling throat and choking. He couldn’t move, and yet the deep aching within, like elastic pulled tight to the verge of breaking, taunted his nerve-like circuits. Left without a hope. Without escape. Without relief. Alone. Then it snapped, and with it, the last chance of seeing his siblings again.
Khatek watched over the progress, reading the gauge level.
“The gauges are rising.” He grumbled, “This piece of scrap is overheating again!”
“I told you it would.” The Elemental gave his superior an incredulous stare.
“Shut it off.” He paced. “Piece of shrapnel should be able to melt more than one ’Shifter at a time.”
“Not after the jam.” The Elemental lowered the knobs on the power panel. “I told you it’d be more susceptible to overheating. One ’Shifter at a time or risk—”
“Can it. I don’t want to be here for weeks on end.” He lifted two fingers, resting them in front of his mouth as he waited. “Start the cooling process.”
“Overheating the system.” The Elemental muttered, “I’m telling you.”
“I don’t wanna be picking Shapeshifter out of the grate all day! They want their machine ‘unstressed’? Build a better one!”
The officer knelt down, rubbing his temples. It was an overwhelming amount of work to manage this operation, especially after the machine had broken down. They’d fallen way behind schedule since the thing could only handle one Shapeshifter without overheating itself. It’d have been faster to shoot all the darn things if it hadn’t been for the humans and their ideas of good money management. The machine had never been intended for such large numbers at one time or consistency.
Somewhat absent mindedly he grasped a red scarf and held it up. As long as the Shifters were dead, how melted shouldn’t matter—at least he hoped it didn’t.
“Sir? Everything alright?” Blend stood beside him. He had recovered from earlier although was still a bit shaken; his hands remained limp at his sides.
Khatek blinked then stood, shoving the scarf towards Blend.
“Just fine.” Obviously realizing he should elaborate he continued, “They were Naraku’s kids. See if he wants this.”
The younger zetraloid took it with fumbling hands and nodded as he hurried. It wasn’t hard to find Naraku. The zetraloid was leaned against a wall, hands in uniform pockets and head tucked down. Blend waited a few moments at his side, running the scarf through his hands until Naraku looked up.
“Umm… Khatek wanted to know if you wanted this.” He shook his head to try and encourage his senses to return faster. “It’s…um…from..uh…”
“Thirteen-Ten.” Naraku snatched it from Blend and rubbed the material between his fingers for a brief moment as he stared forward.
He shook his head once then shoved Blend down as he walked by, clutching the scarf in one hand. He walked along the same empty halls he was familiar with, each foot step echoing. Head down, he navigated past the few clusters of officers, simply forcing his way past anyone stupid enough not to move. His pace slowed as he neared the recall termination checkpoint. The others were just leaving, the last pausing to nod at him.
“Sorry, Naraku.”
“My loyalty lies with the Federation.” Naraku mumbled in reply.