The Silence of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (book recommendations website txt) 📕

The place of torture was extremely specific and really had to be what it is. On his head, the Chief Executioner wore a special ebon helmet that tied into his entire spacesuit. He was supposed to strike terror into the miscreants.

The criminal this time was only twenty-three Earth years old, with a sturdy build and pretty bad luck. They had attempted to transport certain forbidden raw materials and use some special restricted ports located on Mars. What happened afterwards with all this was completely unknown.

The restricted ports on Mars were located in the area of the so-called Utopia Basin. There the smugglers were far enough beyond the reach of Earth's jurisdiction to basically do whatever they wanted.

Naturally, one would ask, wasn't there a logical reason why some of all this wasn't happening that way? Was there no danger of being caught or even killed on the spot. After all, the most important displacement on Earth was right there. After all, all major communication was based at King Taris Base, from where Korolan Bru commanded their vast operations.

King Taris Base was so huge that it could hold not two hundred and fifty, but perhaps even over a thousand men, but that was not the purpose of Earth Command. It craved and desired a certain buffer or tolerance in case it had to recall some of its contingent stationed on Cerberus.

As time went on, the clones that died were removed in a very humane, in the Corporation's understanding, manner. They were used for various developments through which certain results could be achieved.

The exact location of King Taris was top secret, but it was assumed to be somewhere in the Alba Mons area, which in effect gave it some protection against the winds that blew incessantly on the Martian surface.

Alba Mons was also known as Alba Patera and was a cauldron-shaped volcanic peak, and even earlier it was known as the Arcadian Ring.

This location was not chosen by the Earth Federation by chance, as it was there that possible attacks by land from alien civilizations could be fought off. And for air defense, they relied on photon cannons, which were so densely spread throughout the base that it could get expensive. In addition to the cannons, there were several interceptor ships - ready to give a partial fightback.

The base was hidden well enough, yet the Ervanans had proven their brutal brazenness of encroaching on the living space of the human population.

So Korolan Bru decided to allocate a special portion of his budget to beef up its security.

OccasioNaly, the Holy Space Inquisition would send certain units to this very base, as the clones were known for their complete loyalty and lack of almost any emotion. Not too far away in the same crater was another structure that was close to the cargo docks and official space ports of Mars.

There the Inquisition conducted its punitive activities.

The young man was naked, awaiting his punishment. The executioner was in no hurry to end this torture. He had never punished anyone persoNaly before, and on Mars. But this time this criminal was too important and serious, if the Earth Federation's reports were to be believed.

- "You'll be forgiven the opportunity to carry out your misdeeds," he hissed to instil more fear in his victim.

They had bound him tightly with neo-ren ropes and he was reduced to a helpless state. He was so alone - abandoned by his companions, to whom he had brought rich booty.

The smugglers of the "Order of the Varks" were working only for their own personal gain, and that was right in their opinion.

Soon the executioner began the brutal operation. The youth showed spirit, but fainted from the immense pain. The executioner had made sure there was profuse bleeding and this satisfied his smugness as a torturer.

Only the surrounding walls of solid composite were a mute witness to all this atrocity. The light was so dim, and the neon lights cast their sickly luminous temperament all around.

A few minutes and the tissue was separated from the body, and the gaping huge wound was downright frightening and bleeding profusely.

The torturer continued his outrages, pouring a hydrochloric acid solution over the living wound - not too strong, but enough to cause brutal pain and send the fainting body into a beastly satanic trance.

Finally, when they were finished, they simply shot the unfortunate man. That at least ended his inhuman suffering.

The chief executioner removed his mask - he was a middle-aged man who knew what pain meant, having been disfigured himself in one of the brutal Ervanan invasions.

As for the new recruits, they had only transgressed the solar system's boundaries once, but they were practically frequent hidden observers beyond the Kuiper Belt. What was more, they were learning from the achievements of the humans, studying their weaknesses in their own way in anticipation of striking a blow at the enemy civilization one day.

But until then, there was still too much time ... too much time. And a lot was going to happen.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: THE END OF THE RENTO

Rento was doomed to brutal remorse, but in time he became acutely aware of the sadness of life as a lone wolf. The more time passed, he realized that he would soon be unable to remain within the confines of the solar system, and returning to Zegandaria was impossible.

- "I've been through it all," he ground out through his teeth. "I killed all those. I killed for you, Detective Boss. And I was loyal to you. Now I've become a criminal to survive, and here comes the end of that line of work of mine. Where the hell am I, my God?"

Few could fight more skillfully than he, or hold a weapon in the way his hand could only acquire after Sebur Nag's intense training - away from the eyes of ordinary observers.

He was now deprived of the right to live, deprived of the right to craft, eager to realize his transgression and atone, if not to others or the Most High, at least to himself.

In the end, he decided to head for Haumea specifically, where he could die a true warrior.

Rento didn't want to go back, but he also realized something else - what a huge lie his life had been so far. So false and so meaningless - he had fallen victim to his own naivety to help others. He had tried so long, he had broken the rules so long, he had gotten away with it so many times.

He was Rento, determined to kill in the name of an immanent goal, but to protect others and help them as he understood it.

The Earth Federation had not yet established the Cerberus Dispatch, and that was very significant to them all. They had no real access to this place, and Rento had decided to end his life there.

The Earth poets had an interesting verse about this planet.

"Haumea - mother kindness,

To children you gave life,

Two beside thee are they - for ever!"

His speeder landed on Haumea and he stepped out of it. The cold was piercing. He took a few steps that seemed endless. He tried to give himself courage. Then he slowly reached for his weapon. The following memory flashed before his eyes.

Detective Boss had once told him:

- "I love you like a son, you whiny bastard. You're like the other half of my body - only worse," he coughed and laughed in his typical style.

- "Thanks, Dad, I mean, Detective Boss," muttered Rento, who was touched.

- "There's no room for sentimentality in our line of work, my boy," Detective Boss turned to him, "I love you subconsciously because I know you'd bet your ass and die for me. I'd do the same for you."

This conversation had been so long ago, but Rento remembered it. Detective Boss' squad had become number one on the entire planet of Zegandaria after that. And somewhere out there, deep inside, he had finally found his "family".

That "family" accepted him and gave him support - at least while they carried out their mutual missions. And not infrequently, Detective Boss tried to give some help to his fallen teammates. Even though he was in distress himself.

The stiff man was well aware that sooner or later it would come to that. He'd kept to himself for too long and isolated himself from the outside world. His relationship with Boss and the others kept him afloat. He had no purpose in life now. He had paid his debt to Jervond, too. What more did they expect? He owed no one anything anymore.

He pulled the trigger and fired. His soul separated from his body and he was able to see his whole tortured life as if in a dream. All the mistakes and woes. Every stupidity he had committed. Every good deed that had ripped itself from the depths of his heart.

His corpse thudded slowly, and the spacesuit, once it made contact with the surface, began to slowly freeze.

Only his eyes - bulging and sinister - were full of sadness, sadness for a life unlived, full of too much - too much suffering, even.

To some this suffering was nothing, but to the stern Rento it was redemption, for he had long gone down almost entirely conscious, but inevitably doomed by circumstance, he had forged his killer instinct.

There was a very simple regularity in nature - it was not the strongest, the fittest who survived, but the most adaptable to a given situation. Rento was already a passenger from much earlier, he had done his best to get this far.

His spacesuit was enveloped by the icy embrace of death. That was the price he paid for his mistakes!

A price too high!

The moments of oblivion would easily be triggered when his speeder disappeared into this icy hell as well.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: COMPLETELY ALONE

Jervond was left completely alone and felt he had to get ready. The others weren't going to linger too long. The team was determined to get to the Dead City and find out if there was anything useful they could actually leave the planet with. They didn't know what they might find there, but they assumed it might be something that had escaped the eyes and ears of the Earth Federation for the simple reason that