The Paga Diaries (46) by Arizona Wanderer

 46. Interrogation.

The sound of the guards ringing the morning bar woke me up from a fitful sleep.  I woke up alone in a jail cell and I missed not having Mena next to me.  I was scared not knowing what would happen to me today.  The fact that I was still alive was somewhat encouraging but I was seriously regretting my decision to bring the scrolls to Atticus.  I should have left town, gone wandering and taken my chances on my feet. 

I made myself stop thinking about the ‘what ifs’ of my previous options, especially the good ones presented by Trem.  A jail cell is very good at making one focus on the moment, but I had no way of knowing what was to happen next.  I thought about what had happened, hoping that I might get some insight from it.  I thought of the questioning and how it began and progressed.

I had taken the satchel and scrolls into the city guardhouse and presented them to Atticus.

“You took the satchel after Lenious fell during your fight. Did you kill him?” Atticus asked.

“No, Sir. I now regret that.” I answered.

“Was there anyone else who saw this fight?”

“There was no one in alley. His coin girl was with him, Penny. He calls her Tina now, I think. He called her Five before that,” I said.

“She is now in your collar?”

“No. I left her there. I not need another kajira.”

“Did you look at the scrolls?”

“Yes Sir. I made Mena read some of scrolls to me. She became terrified. She said they were written by spy,” I said.  Atticus unrolled a scroll and read it briefly. Then he opened several more and he looked concerned.

“Rykart, why did you bring these to me?”

“They seem important. Might help Argentum win war. I not know what to do with them. I not know who to go to.”

“But why me? Why not the Magistrate?” he asked.

“I trust you more than Julian.”

“I honestly don’t know what will happen to you Rykart. I think a lot of people would have burned the scrolls. Possessing them is very dangerous. You are a barbarian with no Home Stone and people are naturally suspicious of you. Some might see your actions as questionable, that maybe you are part of the spy ring, and presenting these scrolls might be some sort of a plant of false information. Information to mislead the city’s war efforts. Surely you knew that coming here might be not be good for you?”

“Yes Sir. I trust you. I thought it was best option for me and city.”

“I believe you, I just don’t know if anyone else will. Unfortunately I am going to have to report this and detain you until a decision is made.”

“What about my kajira? She is secured to a slave ring,” I said.

“Your life is in jeopardy and you ask about your kajira,” he said with a smile and a disbelieving nod. “You already have feelings for the firecrotch? That didn’t take long. Mena will be tended to. It will take time for me to report this and then someone will come to you with more questions. Probably a lot more questions. Be truthful with your answers; do not omit anything. You will be placed in a cell until then.”

I waited nervously for several ahn in the jail cell.  There was a small barred window that looked out onto a portion of the sandy sparring grounds where I had begun my sword training. One advantage that I had considered about coming to Atticus was that once the authorities knew of Lenious, they would probably make serious efforts to capture him.  And those efforts would put pressure on the entire spy ring, potentially diminishing their focus on my whereabouts.

When the guards finally came to get me, my hands were shackled together in front of me and fastened to a leather belt that was put around my waist. I was led to a room that looked to be designed for interrogation. There were whips, metal tools and other implements hanging on the wall. There were two wooden benches secured to the floor, one on each side of a large stone slab table in the middle of the room.  The table had several slave rings mounted on it in various places.  In a corner of the room was a tiny fireplace niche with a metal brazier.  I was very scared as I waited alone for someone to come in to the room and begin.

Two men finally entered the room and I stood up from the wooden bench I had been sitting on.  One of the men was wearing a fine grey tunic with intricately patterned blue trim of the color of the caste of Scribes.  He carried two satchels; I recognized one of them as Lenious’s.  He placed them on the table and opened the other one, pulling out papers that he began to write on.

The other man wore a black robe over a black tunic and he carried a wooden chest with large metal hinges, which he placed on the table as well.  “I am Niketas Artemios, from the Ubar’s security ministry. Sit on the bench across from my colleague. I am only going to say this once barbarian, answer all of my questions honestly and thoroughly. If I believe that you have been completely honest and straightforward with me, then you might leave this room in one piece. Do you understand me?”

“Yes Sir,” I said, replying with all the confidence I could muster.

He went to the brazier in the small corner fireplace niche.  As he lit fire to the prearranged wood he started to ask questions, with the Scribe recording on paper.

“Were you born on the slave world?”

“I was born on Earth, Sir.” I answered.

“Yes Earth, the slave world. Tell me about how you came from the slave world to Gor, starting with the work you did prior to your departure.”

I didn’t want to talk about the Organization, but I knew I had no choice.  I could no longer deflect questions about my involvement and decided I would tell Niketas anything he wanted to know.  I started with how I had helped the Organization with spotting and reporting potential young women of interest, mostly college students at Arizona State University, many of whom would likely be placed on an acquisition list.  I also told him how I assisted in the collection of some of these women once it had been determined they were worthy to be placed on the acquisition list as ‘candidates’, as they were referred to.  I went on to say how I eventually found out what happened to the candidates, that they were being transported to another planet to be enslaved, and that on this planet slavery was legal, commonplace and culturally accepted.

I told him about the deal that I had obtained, committing to working for the Organization, maintaining secrecy, and unquestioningly following orders in exchange for an eventual one way trip to Gor, where I would be provided a temporary residence.  I was told that I would be on my own, and encouraged to learn Gorean quickly.  I was advised to use a device that would implant the language into my memory, but I declined, not understanding how it worked and therefore not trusting it.

He asked me for the name of the Organization and I could tell he didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know of a name for it.  The employees just referred to it simply as the Organization, probably for security reasons and the nature of the business.  He paused in the questioning and opened the wooden chest on the table.  Sitting across from the box I couldn’t see into it very well but there appeared to be an assortment of metal items, tools perhaps.  He took three metal rods from the box, each with wooden handles and positioned them in the brazier so that their tips were in the flames.  They looked like miniature branding irons and were very unsettling.

“A few ehn ago, I told you that if I believed that you were being completely honest and straightforward with me, then you might leave this room in one piece. I am starting to have doubts about your honesty. Do you know what this is?” he asked, holding up an oval shaped device. It looked like it might be some sort of clamp.

“No Sir, I not know what it is. I answered all questions honestly,” I said quickly.

“This is a castration vice. If I use it on you, you won’t be leaving this room intact, in one piece. Do you understand?”

“No Sir, I do not understand. My Gorean is poor, I not know what castration is,” I said very worried.

“It is used to remove testicles. It will be placed on your balls, securing them in place so that they can be cut off. The incision will then be cauterized,” he said pointing at the brazier. “I have often wondered why all men brought to Gor from the slave world are not castrated upon arrival. Their weakness should not be allowed any possible chance of being procreated, infecting our populace. Now, what is the name of the Organization?”

“Sir, I never heard name for it. I am being honest!”  He set the vice on the table in front of me and then sat next to the Scribe. He asked me if I had ever heard of any of the names of the slaving houses on Earth. He asked me what the transport ship looked like and if I had seen any nonhumans or heard any reference to nonhumans. I had only seen humans and had not heard of any nonhumans. The question confirmed my suspicion that nonhumans must have some sort of relationship with Earth and Gor.

Then he asked me about my entire time since arriving on Gor, making a list of my friends, and acquaintances. He made a list of taverns I had been to, well, the ones I knew the names of.  He asked me where I lived, who had arranged it, and where I received my travel papers. He asked me about procedures to contact the Organization.  I told him there was no contact procedure, and that part of the deal for my passage included my initial travel arrangement and apartment, but that I would never be able to contact the Organization again.

He asked me about the first time I had seen Lenious, and I told him about Tina, formerly Five, who I had called Penny and tried to purchase from him.

“Didn’t you think it was odd for a coin slut to be walking the streets in the morning?”

“No Sir. Not odd to me. I had never seen a coin girl before,” I replied.

“When was the next time you saw Lenious?”

“At Mirus’s house. Next day after party he came to collect his kajirae.”

“You said you don’t know Mirus’s last name, that he is a physician. Tell me more about him, where does he live?”

“He lives in very large house near Dautium. He also owns lumberyard where I work sometimes, like I told you. Dimos is overseer for him. Atticus knows him, so does Magistrate.” I said.

“Which Magistrate?”

“Julius Lepidus, Sir. Mirus introduced us, Atticus was there,” I said.

“Sounds like Mirus Vraci. Does that sound familiar?”

“Not know Sir, never heard last name. Big man Tereus is always with him, guard him.”

“After the party, when did you see Lenious next?” he asked.

“At Feasting Tarn, I saw man walking around empty stadium. Walking back and forth, seemed odd, like he was measuring. I went to ground floor and saw it was Lenious. He left stadium and I followed.”

“You followed him? Why?”

I knew that I couldn’t answer with ‘I don’t know’, but I really didn’t know.  I needed to think of something fast, to provide a good believable reason I had done something so foolish and impulsive.

“You don’t need to think about your answer, spit it out! Why did you follow him?” Niketas yelled and went to the brazier where he pulled an iron out of the flames.  The tip was glowing bright yellow and I could feel the heat of it as he approached me.  He put the iron close to my face and said, “Well barbarian, why did you follow Lenious?”

“I not know,” I blurted out, immediately regretting it and thinking how stupid it must have sounded.

Niketas looked surprised for a brief moment and then said. “Wrong answer. You expect me to believe that you don’t know why you followed him?  I guess we need the guards in here to strap you onto the table,” he said and turned for the door.

“Hard to explain, something not feel right about Lenious, way he was walking. I never like him. He is mean person. I felt he was doing something wrong. I was curious. I not know why I follow. It was to see what he do next!” I stammered out.

“That might be reasonable. Why was that so hard to say?” he said and turned to face me again, still holding the hot iron.

“I not know, it is truth. It is hard for me to know why I followed. It was impulse.”

“Perhaps we will wait a bit on the guards,” Niketas said and placed the iron back in the fire.  “So, you followed him where?”

“Into empty alley, where he met up with Penny. When he saw me he told me to drop my sword and kneel, that he might spare me.  He asked me who I worked for and I said no one. I kept sword, we fought, I won. I took satchel, it seemed important. I wish I never follow him or take satchel.”

“And the coin slut, did you take her too?”

“No Sir, I not need another kajira.”

Niketa laughed and then said, “The weak, slave world barbarian doesn’t need another kajira. You didn’t think to keep and perhaps sell her?”

“No Sir, I thought she would beg me to keep her,” I said looking down, reflecting on my disappointment that she hadn’t begged for my collar.

“So you abandoned a coin slut in the street?”

“She was with Lenious, Sir.”

“Lenious, you didn’t kill him? You said you won the fight. What was he doing when you took the satchel?”

“I not kill him Sir, he was knocked out. Not seem right to stab a man while on his back, knocked out. I regret now, not killing him and putting Penny in my collar.”

“I don’t understand barbarians. What happened next?” he asked.  I told him about going home to Mena and making her read the scrolls to me and her attempt to burn them. He asked me if she had read all of them, and I told him that we only read parts of five or six before realizing what they were. I told him how Mena was very afraid and that we had left the apartment, leaving no trace or scent. He asked where she was now and I told him about the room in the Tickling Curlies manor. I also told him that I had gone to Trem for advice and had settled on trusting Atticus.

“Who else knows about the scrolls?” he asked.

“No one Sir.”

“For today, it appears that you will leave this room in one piece,” he said.