Weaving Rebellion

 

Vidya tried to will the perspiration from forming on her brow as her captor skulked around the room. The massive man clutched a baton ominously coated with dried blood, bits of hair and crusted skin. His appearance had all the tell-tale characteristics of someone whose ancestors had used rapid evolution technology to survive the harsh conditions of the planet: purple skin which wouldn’t burn in the relentless light, protruding brows to shield his eyes from the sun and a massive frame perfect for hunting arrakeon. As the days of hunting were long gone on the planet, his size now made him ideal for another job- interrogator.

            He stopped pacing, his final step falling so heavily that it rattled the metal table to which Vidya was shackled.

            “We know you are one of them,” he said with slow, icy menace.

            Thinking of all the people who would starve to death if she was thrown into Dyeus Industries’ indefinite holding facility, she whimpered, “You’re wrong about me.”

            “No,” he said, thumping two massive fists on the table across from her. “We are not.”

            She allowed her hands to tremble as he loomed, his bald, vascular head blotting out the light of the single lamp pointed at her face.

            Vidya wracked her brain for what to say. She had been caught before and had been let free each time, but this was different. The freedom fighters had become too bold and the sweeps by company enforcers, more aggressive.

            This planet was Dyeus Industries’ most profitable. The company which employed every colonist here had already lost many planets to insurrection in recent years and was stretched thin. If they lost this planet also, the financial strain would be too much to bear. They would arrest employees and work their skeleton crews to the bone before letting these profits slip through their fingers.

            Shaking her head, her black hair swaying heavily around her face, Vidya asked, “What do you want from me?”

            She made out a cruel smile in the dark halo of the single light. “I want names. Of those you work with and of those who seek to harm the very company which has given you everything.”

            Vidya sighed, letting the air seep slowly from her lips.

            “I’ll tell you, young lady,” the man said, methodically tapping a callused finger against the table. “These conversations all start the same, but they all end the same too.”

            With that, he reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing until a crunching sound filled the room. He turned as the wall behind him shook.

            Vidya smiled just before the wall erupted, blasting the two back and destroying the table. In the choking dust and rubble, Vidya slowly got to her feet, the shackles dangling from her wrists. Chunks of wall peppered the man’s bleeding back like shrapnel. He coughed and looked up as she grabbed his baton.

           “You were wrong about me,” she said, brandishing the weapon. “I’m not, “one of them.” I lead them.”