Terra. Standard Republican Year - 1214
High above the toxic smog that clings to the ground and leeches it of any semblance of life and beauty there sits a series of towers fashioned in the shape of chalices; with wide and imposing bases, transparent elevator shafts rising from them into the sky whereupon rest great metal bowls filled with untainted soil. Small townships thrive upon these semi-independent chalices of Terra. Within each of these titanic structures there resides a Senator, an echo of a forgotten age of democracy, in truth each of these despots is no more than a feudal duke hiding behind the veneer of civility. These titles are hereditary, and as long as one complies with loose regulations and tax obligations there is no true oversight to speak of.
I can't believe I finally get to leave the capital! I've never seen a Chalice before, I wonder if each one is unique? Hevribas thought, looking out the window, trying to pierce through the smog to see the ground below. Beside him sat a pilot that wouldn't respond to any of his questions, simply taking off at the designated time and looking straight ahead during the flight. Even though he knows I'm from The Council? Hardass. I hope we get there so- Below him, rising from the fog upon an impossibly thin glass tower there rested a small world.
The pilot deftly piloted the vibrolift down in between the towering Ironwood trees and onto the landing pad in the middle of the small rustic town.
'Welcome to the Chalice of Grace!'
A large wrought iron sign hung above the gated entrance separating the landing pad and the town, though strangely there wasn't anyone there to greet us. I look over to the pilot. He just nods.
Stepping out I begin to make my way towards the town when my foot bumps into something. Something hard. Looking down there is a hatch on the landing pad.
Looking back to the pilot I yell out. 'Is this it?'
He gives me a thumbs up through the viewscreen.
Lifting the cool metal cover, I begin climbing down the ladder.
After only a short descent I find myself in a narrow stone hallway, lit overhead by fluorescent yellow lights. Before I can take a step forward I hear rhythmic dull thuds coming from my right, there is a solid iron door without a visible handle.
Upon approaching.
'I only ask you for one thing, obedience! Why is that too simple of a concept for you to wrap your head around?!' A voice, crackling with animal rage 'I am so fucking tired of repeating myself, why won't you learn!' Again, the screaming questions each punctuated with the dull sound of flesh being struck with a blunt object. Sudden quiet.
'Why?' a tortured whisper from the previous voice, becoming human in its anguish.
'Why must you drive me to such places?' he asks, 'I don't want this, none of us do.'
Gathering my courage, I take a deep breath, and knock upon the iron door with my quivering hand. A dull boom that is immediately overwhelmed by the scream of animal rage on the other side.
'SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE' a shrill cry, immediately followed by footsteps and a manic unlocking of the door from within. Almost before the deadbolt could be fully withdrawn the door explodes open and a man comes charging through, seeking the source of his most recent ire.
Wisely having stepped back a few paces upon hearing the feral cry - I am now face to face with Senator Jore of the Grace Chalice. The man is built surprisingly average for someone containing such demons, a moderate height and build, reserved grey clothing and black shoes. The illusion of normalcy is immediately dispelled upon making eye contact though, the man's pale skin is marred by his veins standing at attention beneath the flush of pure rage along his neck and cheeks, his jaw is clenched so hard I began to feel conscious of the teeth in my own mouth. And his eyes, I feel like looking into them would make me become frozen, lost, in the trance of madness, so dark blue they appear black, the whites around them popping out, almost like his eyes wanted to launch themselves from his face at me so intense and pure was his rage.
Frozen, the only thought in my mind being - Fight? Flight? Nope - Freeze. Fuck.
Strangely though, the Senator just stands there, breathing, with what seems to be a great physical effort he closes his eyes and relaxes his tightened posture, the leg of a (table?) falling to the floor from a now limp hand.
How the hell did I miss that?
'Excuse me.' Covering his face with his newly freed left hand the Senator mumbles in a now patrician smooth bass. 'It just … happens.' With a smile he literally waved the incident off, a bloodstained hand flapping through the air.
'Now.' He opens his eyes, locking with mine. He spreads his arms wide, nearly brushing the stone walls on either side of us 'What brings you to my humble abode?'
I can only stare. That was scarier than the anger.
His jaw twitches.
Jolted. 'Ah, um, yes sir, I am here to deliver a message on behalf of the Council of The Body, an official request.'
'In layman's terms, an order then?' He asks, 'Excuse me.' Pushing past me he walks down the way I came, gently running his right hand along the wall, almost caressing it as he ventured back to the surface.
A hollow sense of nervousness, one akin to getting in trouble as a child and having to wait for a parent to arrive home and punish you, settled into the pit of my stomach.
'Yes sir, directly from the Left Eye himself.' I reach within my satchel to present the data chip for verification. 'A round of conscription.'
The senator stops dead. Turning, 'A conscription? Hm.' Abruptly turning around the Senator stepped into the room he had been in, calling back, 'Come along then.'
Um, okay. Stepping into the room I am assaulted by the smell of blood, feces, and smoke. Before I can lock my gaze on the back of the Senator some animal urge forces me to take a quick look around the room. At a glance I see I am in what appears to be a study; there is an overturned desk with a leg broken off, two wooden chairs smashed against the walls, a formerly green carpet now dyed crimson, and an industrial fan spinning ceaselessly overhead.
These details I can change, alter, make prettier, but forever burned into my mind will be the young woman in the yellow dress, crouched in the corner, transformed into bloody ruin.
Unlocking and opening another plain iron door the Senator leads me down a spartan staircase, plain stone, stale air, and bland lighting surrounded me as I descended further into the bowels of the Grace Chalice.
Opening up before me is something that would put horror movies to shame, a cavernous underground chamber, a twisted hell of metal. Rising up around me are walls made of cages, each one barely large enough to hold a crouching child, yet that is exactly what they held, crouching humans with cold water and the filth of those above them constantly raining down upon them. The interior of the space was sectioned off into what I can only describe as torture cubicles, surrounded by small metal half walls each contained a table, a toolchest, a chair, and an unlucky individual strapped to said cold metal table. High above within the ceiling there was a large screen, constantly playing static feedback that blasted over the screams of those contained within, at regular intervals an image of Senator Jore would play with the word 'Love' being scattered throughout the feedback in multiple voices.
Striding confidently to the center of the space and spreading his arms out the senator declared 'Well then, how many would you like?'
I can only save 100.
'I.' I begin, shaking. 'I have clearance for 100 conscripts, each Chalice is required the same.'
Trembling, cursing the fact that I only have the authority to save so few souls.
Shaking, rejoicing the fact that I was born in the capital and wasn't badly deformed at birth.
'Very well. Any specifics?' Senator Jore asked lazily.
'The healthier the better.' I state, hating myself for every syllable.
After a whirlwind of nightmarish selection that is best left repressed in my memory I stumble out of that nightmare with 100 of the 'less broken' ones. On my way back to the capital. On my way back to the Project. On my way to something that will burn these images from my mind.