Prete swaggered as he entered the apartment. He looked at the lanky black man reading, seated in a plush recliner.
“Not bad accommodations for a cell, is it, Lightbringer?” Prete asked Cole who slowly rose from the chair.
“A cell is still a prison, no matter how exquisite the furnishings,” Cole responded, coming to a standstill about five feet from the preening Minister. “Correction: Potentate Prete,” Cole thought to himself.
“Ah, well. We are not barbarians on Gidigidi, after all. Unlike you Earthlings who think imprisoning somebody in the most horrid of cells would somehow reform the criminal. Such backward-thinking individuals you are. What a miracle that you haven’t yet caused your own extinction,” Prete waxed lyrical, enjoying the sound of his own enhanced voice.
The Cyborg flexed his bionic right arm simply for the ecstasy of relishing the power at his instant bidding. With incredible speed, he blurred forward to grab Cole by the neck, exerting only the slightest of pressure on the man’s throat, but making him gasp.
“See, Lightbringer,” Prete said with a sneer, “how easy it would be for me to end your life? To extinguish your light like I would a burning wick, but only with much more relish.” He released his grip on Cole’s neck, stepping back and seating himself in the recliner so recently vacated by Cole.
Cole coughed painfully a few times before he said, “It’s been, what, three months now since you’ve imprisoned me here? Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”
“What? And deny myself the pleasure of these invigorating visits? This is the one occasion I eagerly anticipate every week, the hour that allows me to forget about my concerns about the scattered pockets of resistance and the remnants of the Mystics. These visits, Lightbringer, reinforce my belief that I was meant to rule.”
“You call this ruling? Enslaving your own people to do your depraved bidding, denying them their basic rights is ruling? It is nothing but oppression, despotism and an abuse of power.”
“Call it whatever you will, Light Warrior, but your time is over. When you came with Keisha and your whore to assassinate me three months ago, I could have killed all of you with a thought. But didn’t I show mercy instead? Is that not a quality of a ruler?”
“Mercy? You consider placing me here under lock and key, isolated and cut off from everybody except your goons, mercy? Was it mercy that ‘inspired’ you to take control of Connie’s mind and make her one of your concubines? Did hurling Keisha out of your Palace to her death strike you as a merciful act?”
As if Cole’s speech was the most hilarious one Prete had ever heard, he burst into raucous laughter. He was so struck with mirth that he had to rise out of the recliner, completely doubled over, holding his stomach as if in pain.
“Aah, Light Warrior, how deliciously entertaining you are! No court jester could ever be this comical. Allow me to dispel some of your erroneous conclusions, even though they do indeed amuse me no end,” Prete said after having caught his breath.
He took a seat on the couch set against the wall near the chamber entrance. Stretching out his long legs in front of him, Prete folded his hands in his lap and proceeded to rock Cole’s world, for the second time. The first time was when they had met and Prete had so effortlessly captured him.
“Keisha probably saved herself from death with her powers. The fact that she didn’t return to assist you says much though, doesn’t it? As for this ‘Connie’, of whom you seem to be inordinately fond: she’s only a guest in my Palace. I have no interest in rutting with regressive Earthlings; she is simply an addition to my collection of exotic specimens.”
A huge wave of relief flooded Cole’s entire body; he had feared more for Connie than himself, but to know that she was safe and most importantly, alive, gave him hope anew.
“But I tire of this. Time to get on to the business of the day,” Prete said, snapping his fingers. The door next to him slid open silently to allow an extremely tall woman to enter.
She was dressed entirely in a body suit so white it appeared to be radiating light. The outfit fit her like a tight, second skin, displaying her muscular physique and pert breasts to their utmost advantage. Her face was angelic: heart-shaped, skin the colour of light bronze, full lips that begged to be kissed.
“Tamara, so good to see you, and to see you looking so good,” Prete leered. He sat back more comfortably on the sofa, as if waiting to observe a spectacular show.
“Potentate Prete, always a pleasure, sir,” Tamara answered curtly.
Cole had tensed the second the woman had walked into the chamber. Although he had been expecting her from the time Prete had arrived, he still reacted instinctively in dread. He knew what was coming.
Walking right up to Cole, Tamara lashed out at him without warning, slapping him hard enough across the face to split his lip. Droplets of blood flew through the air to land on the recliner behind Cole.
“Such a shame you can’t use your power, isn’t it, Lightbringer? With my telepathic dampening of your light abilities, you’re now nothing more than the cretin you were on Earth,” Prete mocked and guffawed.
Cole roiled within with hatred and fury, wanting more than anything in the world to smash Prete’s perfect teeth down his throat. Instead, he centred himself and waited for Tamara’s next blow. When she aimed a punch at his midriff, Cole blocked it, following it up with a swift punch to her temple, sending her staggering back a few steps.
“Ah, no fair. You can’t attack my Mistress of Torture thus. Let me adjust things slightly so that you are entirely incapacitated,” Prete stated mildly.
Abruptly, Cole was incapable of moving a single muscle. Prete had complete control of his mind and body, and that was when the real torture commenced.
Connie bristled with impotence. “Cole, Cole. Where are you? What are they doing to you?” she asked herself the same questions she posed every day since she had been separated from him. “Keisha, why have you abandoned us?” Connie thought, frustration making her gnash her back teeth.
Connie was in the large palace kitchen, chopping up vegetables for the evening meal. She knew she had been lucky when Prete had so easily captured all of them months ago; he could have had her killed. Suddenly, one of the other servants in the broiling kitchen knocked hard against Connie’s elbow, making her lose her footing. The same servant quickly leaned over to grab Connie before she could fall to the floor. At the same instant, she forced something into Connie’s right hand and said, “Keisha sends this. Use it tonight.”
Aloud, the servant said, “You should be more careful, Earthling. Accidents can easily lead to fatalities here in our kitchen.” Then she hastily exited the room.
Connie carefully concealed the object in her hand by placing it in a front pocket of her jeans. Prete had allowed her to keep her Earth clothes because it made her more “exotic”. She could hardly wait to return to her bedroom to investigate whatever it was that Keisha had sent. Relief flooded her like a tsunami covering a small island.
Minister Chau studied her image in the full-length mirror. She despised what she saw.
“To think that I had ever loved that brute,” she said to Mason, her manservant and trusted confidant. “Look at how he has repaid my loyalty, by stripping me of my cybernetic spine and crippling me!”
Chau hurled her glass of wine at the mirror, shattering it. A small sliver of glass flew at her face, leaving a thin slice and a trail of blood on her cheek.
“Minister! You’ve hurt yourself,” Mason said in concern, hastily but gently dabbing at the scratch with a soft cloth. “Potentate Prete may have crippled you physically, but you still have your intellect and acumen, Minister,” Mason pointed out. “And your plan to overthrow him can’t be thwarted, not now when we’ve set everything in place and in motion,” the manservant dared to claim.
“Yes,” a much calmer and controlled Chau said, “tonight I will visit the Light Warrior and grant him the means with which to defeat Prete. I chose the wrong side once; I won’t do that again,” Minister Chau said before Mason wheeled her back into her parlour.
The Ancient One, leader of the Mystics and agéd beyond count, leaned heavily upon his assistant, Merle. His body felt as fragile as the bones of a hummingbird; his breathing was laboured, causing him to wheeze with every exhalation. The Ancient One knew his time on this mortal plane was drawing to a close.
Seating himself with the help of Merle upon the sacred Throne of the Mystics, a simple wooden chair softened by a plush cushion, the old man beckoned for Keisha to approach him. He smiled with genuine affection at the woman. She didn’t know it yet, but he had chosen her to be the next Ancient One.
“Revered One, are you sure you have the strength to speak to Keisha now? Couldn’t you perhaps allow yourself a brief respite of five minutes?” asked Merle, her voice filled with concern for the obviously fading man.
“And in those five minutes of rest, our hope might be annihilated, dear Merle. No, time is not only of the essence; it is crucial. Come, Keisha. Tell me how goes the operation.”
“Ancient One, with the help of your prophetic vision, I have been able to make indirect contact with Connie. A palace servant supporting our cause has managed to give Connie the means to escape,” Keisha reported.
“Ah, that’s very good. What of the Lightbringer, Keisha? Any word about him?”
“Is he still alive? If he is alive, why isn’t he using his abilities to escape?” Merle asked.
“We know he’s alive, yes, but he is Potentate Prete’s captive. Prete has subdued Cole’s powers with his telepathic abilities. But I have good news,” Keisha revealed.
“We could desperately do with any good news, daughter. What is it?” the Ancient One asked eagerly.
“Minister Chau has agreed to assist us. Right now, she and her manservant Mason are on their way to secretly visit Cole. Minister Chau has promised that she will enable him to regain his light abilities!”
“That would be a minor victory in itself!” Merle exclaimed.
“Now, all hinges on how Cole reacts. His treatment at the merciless hands of Prete over these past months will determine if he still has the will to fight, or if Prete has broken his spirit. Prophecy proclaims that the Light Warrior will be on a knife edge of resolution: to defy Prete and destroy him, or forgo any resistance and return to Earth.”
The silence that followed the Ancient One’s words echoed hollowly in the chamber.
Cole was a bloody mess. It felt as if Tamara had broken every bone and then some in his body. The bathtub water was a light crimson as Cole soaked his body, trying to cleanse it of the blood from his numerous injuries, and to soothe his aches.
Cole rose slowly, painfully from the tub, stepping gingerly out of it. His tall, muscular body was covered in bruises, welts and cuts. Turning on the shower, Cole stood under the gushing water to rinse off the last of the blood and soap.
The hot water helped to return some of his energy; after five minutes of luxuriating under the streaming water, Cole turned it off. He felt much more invigorated; instead of stepping into the drying chamber, Cole decided to towel himself dry.
Suddenly, all the lights flickered before going out completely for a few seconds. Then the room blazed brightly again. Cole hardly gave it a thought.
He had just started to dry himself when he heard the distinctive chime of the entrance bell. Somebody had entered his chambers.
Wrapping himself in a light gown, Cole went to see who had come calling at this hour. It was already well past midnight. “Prete surely wouldn’t have returned this soon, would he?” Cole asked himself. He was not prepared to see Minister Chau and a stranger waiting silently for him.
“Light Warrior. It is good to see you again,” Chau greeted Cole.
“I can’t exactly say the same of you, seeing that the last time we met, you were one of those who helped Prete capture me,” Cole said bluntly.
“Yes, well. That’s in the past,” Chau said bitterly. “As you can see, since then I’ve fallen on hard times,” she added, gesturing at the wheelchair in which she sat.
“I suppose that’s with compliments of Prete?”
“You’ve guessed correctly. Once he had you, he had no more need of me. As he so tactlessly told me, ‘I don’t need a crone like you to warm my bed, not when I can now have my pick of young, nubile women all across Gidigidi.’ And then he had ripped out my spine to leave me a cripple.”
“And you’re here, why? So that I could commiserate with you? We have a saying on earth: if you dig a grave for somebody, you’re likely to fall in it yourself.”
“No, Lightbringer. I’m not here looking for your sympathy. I know I got what I deserved, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want vengeance. I’m here to help you topple Prete and save Gidigidi, as you are meant to do.”
“Minister Chau has come to you at immense risk to herself,” Mason suddenly said. “She has signed her own death warrant just by being here without Potentate Prete’s permission. Before we arrived, our friends switched the security cameras to a loop feed so that nobody would see us enter your rooms,” Mason explained. Cole recalled the brief light failure.
“Light Warrior, if you were given the means with which to cancel Prete’s telepathic dampening of your powers, you could have your powers restored and annihilate Prete,” Chau hissed.
“But that’s not going to happen, is it? Prete shut down my powers with a single thought, as if it cost him no effort at all. All he had to say to me was ‘Your power is no more’, and I felt it leave me,” Cole snapped.
Minister Chau surprised Cole by suddenly giving a barking laugh. “You fool. He never took your powers from you. He only made you believe that they were gone. That is his Ultimate Weapon: spreading a rumour of his might, and letting people do the rest.”
“What? Do you mean he has no ‘Ultimate Weapon’? What about the claims of its destructive power, and the fact that the fallout could last for decades?”
“But isn’t that exactly the properties of a rumour, especially a slanderous one? Does its dishonest nature of hearsay not have destructive power? Does it not have an impact that lasts for a very long time, as people are quick to spread one but not so hasty to ever retract it?”
Connie stared at the object in the palm of her hand. It was a key card, but not just any key card. It was a MASTER key card. Connie started to shake with shock, relief, disbelief and hope.
“Keisha, you never abandoned us! I need to get out of here and find Cole,” she thought. No sooner had the idea crossed her mind than she grabbed the few items of hers, stalked quietly to her chamber door and listened intently for sounds from the corridor beyond her room.
It was well past midnight, so Connie knew most of the staff would already have retired for the night. Yet, she stayed a few more precious minutes at the door, listening keenly. Finally, she pushed the key card into the slot, waiting anxiously to see if it would open the door.
With a sibilant hiss, the door slid upwards. Connie was out into the corridor in a flash. From snatches of conversation she had caught over the months, she knew where Cole was being “housed”. She made a beeline for it.
“I’m coming, Cole. Hold on, my love. Just hold on.”
“Wait,” Cole said. “How exactly did I lose my powers, if you’re claiming that all Prete did was to deceive me? I couldn’t have become so utterly powerless just by him telling me I had no abilities,” Cole argued.
“Light Warrior, that’s Prete’s greatest power: to plant a seed of doubt in someone’s mind that will undermine them so completely, that they will do his every bidding. He is no telepath; he’s a djinnari.”
“A djinnari has the ability to manipulate thoughts and beliefs,” Mason clarified. “They don’t really have any powers of their own, but they can make others use their abilities for them. In a sense, Prete has stolen your powers for his own use, but the beauty of it is this: you still have all your powers at your disposal!” Mason whispered fiercely.
Cole was stunned. It felt as if somebody had rudely ripped the mat right from under his feet, and he had fallen not only on his butt, but on his face, too.
“Try it, why don’t you? See if you can make your light blaze forth right now,” Chau commanded the still dumbstruck Cole.
Connie rose carefully from her concealment among the shrubs growing outside the apartment where Prete had imprisoned Cole. To Connie’s surprise, there were no sentries stationed outside the place.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Connie unwittingly echoed the famous line from the Star Wars movies. As she was about to rush the entrance, somebody grabbed her by the left shoulder and spun her around.
“Keisha!” Connie exclaimed, forgetting to be quiet.
“Hush! I assume you have the Master key card with you? Of course you do. Right, let’s do this,” the woman said in a rush before sprinting off to the door of Cole’s prison.
Bright, blazing, beautiful light burst forth from the palms of Cole’s hands. They bathed Chau and Mason in harmless radiance, as Cole had no intention of hurting the two.
“Now would you look at that?” Connie said from behind Cole, who turned around so fast it looked like he had snapped his neck.
“Prophecy be praised! Your powers have been returned,” exclaimed Keisha, tears of relief flowing freely down her cheeks.
In one leap, Cole reached Connie, grabbing the feisty woman in a tight embrace before kissing her hungrily.
“I feared most for you, my love,” Cole breathed. “Prete completely missed my true weakness: you!”
“And here I thought I was coming to rescue you, but you so very obviously need no rescuing,” Connie quipped before laughing in relief at finding Cole whole and apparently unharmed. Until she noticed the various scars on his body when his gown fell open. She gasped loudly.
“It’s nothing that won’t heal,” Cole hurriedly assured you before clasping her to his chest again.
“We don’t have the luxury of extended reunions,” Chau commented dryly. “If you wish to settle matters once and for all with Prete, now would be the opportune time,” she added.
“He’s cavorting with his concubines right now in his apartments. If you go there forthwith, you should be able to catch him unawares,” Mason advised.
“No time like the present to strip the flesh off Prete as we strip him of his ill-gained power,” Cole said, but it was the Light Ruler, the Lightbringer finally coming into his own, who declared that Potentate Prete’s life was forfeit.
The stunned expression on Tamara’s face when Cole, now the Light Ruler, stepped in front of her as she was leaving Potentate Prete’s bedchamber caused him to grin in amusement.
“Today, your pristine body suit will be coloured not by the blood of your victims, Torturer, but by your own!”
Languidly, the Light Ruler pointed a single finger at Tamara. She didn’t even have time to shriek before a gaping, red hole appeared in her abdomen. The acrid stench of burning flesh rose as the woman tumbled forward, dead as stone before she hit the floor. Then the Light Ruler, Connie and Keisha entered the royal chamber.
The Light Ruler glared at the nude Potentate Prete, caught in flagrante delicto with three young girls.
“Out!” he commanded the whores who didn’t need to be told twice.
“Your power is no more,” Prete thundered as he leapt out of bed.
“Fool me once, shame on me. You know the rest,” the Light Ruler stated before his body was engulfed by a brilliance so radiant it caused the others to swiftly shield their eyes. When the flare subsided, the Light Ruler had undergone a profound change.
His black skin was now striated with two white lines on his right cheek and one along his entire left arm. His throat was encircled by two lines while his chest had three lines running perpendicularly. Connie could see the tips of three more lines on his back just peeking out of the top of the sleeveless jacket he was wearing.
Cole’s eyes had altered to twin orbs of pure glimmer; when he moved, light seeped out of his body like droplets of diamonds. It was Cole’s voice though that had undergone the most drastic change.
“Your unjust reign of terror is no more,” the Light Ruler intoned in a voice echoing with crystalline chimes and tinkling bells. “Feel the light fill and consume you, as you emptied others of hope and justice.”
Potentate Prete’s eyes smouldered before they started to melt; his naked, mechanically-enhanced body bucked and twisted in unnatural angles as the light consuming him from within devoured his flesh, bone and steel.
Prete had time to utter a last forlorn shriek before the shell of his body collapsed upon itself, reduced to nothing more than a pile of ashes.
Turning to Connie and Keisha, the Light Ruler declared, “Gidigidi has been freed. Now, let a new Age of Enlightenment dawn for all her citizens.”
Then he reached out to Connie, took her gently into his warm embrace, and passionately, lingeringly kissed the true light in his life.
Image: Dewang Gupta (www.unsplash.com)