Origins: A Greater Good by Mark Henrikson

Author:Mark Henrikson [Henrikson, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Key Move Publications
Published: 2014-12-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19: Justification

Like a bright light approaching through the darkness of a dense fog, Tonwen felt the state of consciousness creep its way back into his mind. At first it was an indistinguishable blur, but soon the light drew near and brought with it illumination of his surroundings.

Tonwen opened his eyes and tried to rotate his head and have a look around, but somewhere between his brain and his muscles, the message was lost. No matter how hard he tried to move it, his head remained fixed in place. Attempts to reposition his arms and legs met equal futility. The only part of his body responding to his mind’s request was his eyes.

He glanced downward to find himself seated cross-legged on the floor with his hands lying relaxed in his lap. Tonwen moved his eyes upward where he was barely able to see a blue haze emanating from an antenna in the ceiling holding his body in place. The paralysis beam was old technology, but still effective.

“Admiral, the prisoner’s regained consciousness,” a male voice said drawing Tonwen’s eyes to the right in search of the owner. There, leaning against the wall, he spotted a guard touching a device mounted on the underside of his left wrist.

“Acknowledged,” an efficient, female voice responded through the communicator. The guard stood there staring at Tonwen as though he were an exotic piece of artwork on display. Five long, silent minutes passed before a door opened to Tonwen’s left, granting the admiral entry into the room with a guard in tow.

Tonwen’s seated position on the floor was at eye level with the Admiral. He followed her contemptuous stare with his eyes as she paced toward him. He lost visual track when she moved behind him to settle into his blind spot. With every passing second she remained back there, Tonwen could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise to stand on end.

Her agonizing, slow footsteps continued around to his other side. As the admiral emerged from his blind spot, she asked in a patient, level tone, “Why were you in my armory?”

Tonwen tried to enunciate a reply, but found his mouth still frozen.

“Oh how silly of me. You can’t answer my question in your current state. Allow me to fix that,” the admiral said in an accommodating voice. She reached out and touched Tonwen on his mouth with a hand that wore a silver colored glove that extended halfway up her forearm. Her soft touch released the beam and enabled Tonwen to work his lips, jaw, and vocal chords. “Speak.”

Tonwen imagined a less seasoned individual might be intimidated by the hollow show of power. Others might fall for the notion that the admiral was their friend and savior by possessing the ability to grant them the use of their body once again. Neither impressed Tonwen much as he channeled Gallono’s sarcasm to deliver his reply, “I am afraid it is a big ship and I could not help but get lost.”

“Hmm, you were three levels down from the mess hall you were escorted to under guard,” the admiral mused.

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