Chapter 4

Persephone woke slowly, consciousness coming in fits and starts. With each waking, she could recall a fragmented memory. The dimmed lights of the business jets cabin and an IV. Bright runway lights on a pitch-black airstrip. Handcuffs and raised voices. The final time she woke, the only fragmented memory was of the soft whooshing of HVAC overhead.

Persephone opened her eyes then blinked. She was surrounded by unrelenting darkness that blinking failed to clear. She rolled to her side and could feel a thin mattress or blanket under her. A dim, narrow band of light was visible a few feet away, maybe the bottom of a door. Persephone sat up and slid back along the soft covering until her back hit a wall.

She sat with her knees draw tight to her chest for an immeasurable time. The rough wall leeched heat from her back as did the floor through the thin padding. Persephone shook as if the very walls were trying to pull life itself from her body.

A quietly rasping scrape beyond the narrow band of light brought her attention to it. There was a snicking clack and light flooded in. Persephone held one shaking hand up, to shield her closed eyes.

“Doctor?” a tentative voice called.

“Yes?” Persephone’s voice creaked. She swallowed hard and realized how dry her mouth was, “Yes.”

“Dr. Persephone Kore?” the voice called again.

Persephone cracked her eyes open enough to see blurry feet approaching. She pressed up against the cold wall. “Yes?”

A hand clasped her wrist and she have a croaking gasp of surprise. A strong hand yanked her to her feet. Staggering upright, Persephone winced at the blurry light coming through the door. She yelped in shock when pain lanced into the tip of her finger. Fingers pinched and rolled the tip of her finger until a bright crimson dot welled up.

“The machine needs more than that,” said voice said in the darkness.

“She’s dehydrated,” a familiar voice chided. “You aren’t going to get much more than that without a line.” The hand holding her wrist ran a gentle thumb along the palm of her hand, as if trying to soothe her.

Persephone saw another hand swiftly collecting the bright red drop of blood welling on the pad of her finger. She jerked her hand out of someone’s grab and brought it to her mouth to suck on the painful cut.

“Persephone Nestis Kore, daughter of Demeter Kore, and lead bio-genetic engineer at International Bio-Chemical Corps. Twenty-five years old, never married, and no children. Holds doctorates in biology and genetic engineering,” a voice rattled off.

“I told you it was her,” the familiar voice responded, annoyance making his voice tight.

“This can’t be right,” the first voice argued. “You can’t have two doctorates by the age of – what? – seventeen?”

“Sixteen,” she corrected absently. Persephone wiped her finger on her t-shirt and squinted at the two vague shapes in front of her.

“Come on, Persephone,” the familiar voice called.

“No, Thanatos, she has to be judged.” The second voice was testy, as if this was an argument had many times over.

“She was specifically requested.”

“You know the rules. No dead weight,” the voice said with cold humor.

A hand cramped onto her wrist again and gave a gentle but insistent tug. “This will be quick, then I’ll get you settled.”

Persephone had a moment’s hesitation before stumbling along after them. It wasn’t that she wanted to stay in a dark cell but the idea of being “judged” held an ominous feel. She closed her eyes as she stepped from the cell into the brightly illuminated hallway. She had always welcomed the sun, reveled in its feel on her light brown skin. This light was harsh, unnatural, and made her shiver.

The hand on her wrist released her. “This way,” he said.

Squinting after the men, all she could see were darkly dressed figures. She stumbled after them and realized a third man had stood silently with them as she caught up enough to see them more clearly. Her eyes widened in surprise and she stopped as she recognized the third man as Hermes, from her security detail, and still in his IBCC security uniform.

“Hermes!” she shrieked and took a step back from the men.

He held his hands up placatingly.

“Were you some kind of plant? A traitor or something?” Persephone edged back another step.

“No, Dr. Kore,” he said and grasped her wrist with a cool hand. “Believe me, I was protecting you. Just wait, you’ll understand in a moment.”

She jerked her hand back but he held firm.

“Thanatos, a little help?” Hermes asked.

Another hand clamped down on her other wrist. Persephone looked up to see the dark clad, armored guard, presumably looking down at her from a dark visored helmet. “Please, Persephone. No one intends to hurt you,” he gave a little pause and Persephone guessed he was looking at the third man.

“She must be judged,” the man said bluntly.

“Eris,” the dark armored man with a familiar voice growled.

“She gets no more special treatment than anyone else,” Eris replied calmly. “After all, we can’t have anything stirring up the masses right now, can we?”

There was a moment of tense silence before the warmer of the two hands, Thanatos, tugged on her gently.

“Please, Persephone.”

There was something in the way he said her name. A subtle reverence that unfroze her feet. She took a hesitant, stumbling step forward. A hand caught and cupped her elbow to keep her upright.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

“Tired, hungry, thirsty, and kind of pissed,” she said.

“She’s not wearing her glasses, Thanatos,” Hermes said from her other side.

Thanatos’ visored face turned to her. The hand at her wrist move to cup her chin, turning her face up to his. She glared up at his blank visor.

“I’ll have to add it to the list,” Thanatos said.

“Three months with a woman–”

“Stop, Hermes,” Thanatos cut him off. He released her chin. “We’re close, then I can work on it.” His hand went to her arm and he guided her along gently by the elbow.

They led her, Thanatos by the elbow and the other two flanking them, down bright gray hallways. Their feet echoed in a way that made Persephone think the walls were stone or concrete, an idea reenforced by the dank chill in the air.

“Here,” Hermes said, opening a door. “My duties as escort end here. I will undoubtedly see you later on the control floor.” He gave her a brief bow.

Thanatos walked her through the open door. As they walked closer, the blurry mass in front of her solidified in a dais with three forms seated atop it. Persephone squinted, but was unable to make out anything more than vaguely human forms seated on the dais.

“I bring Persephone Kore before you for judgement,” Thanatos told them. “Not that it is formally required,” he said and Persephone got the impression he was looking at Eris from behind his dark visor.

“All who come here require judgment,” a hissingly soft voice said from the dais.

“All,” echoed two other voices.

“Send her data so she may be judged,” the quiet voiced hissed.

Eris tapped a key on his small machine and Persephone saw the figures hunch down, reading. They stayed that way for several quiet and intense moments.

“Dr. Persephone Nestis Kore, you are here to be judged for a level of usefulness to us,” the middle figure spoke.

“I didn’t ask for this,” she spat back.

“No, but the world as you know it will end. This facility will be one of only a few that survive. We wish for you to survive with us, but must decide the circumstances of that survival. Those who are diligent workers or technically skilled can find themselves assigned to Asphodel, living a modest life until we can return to the world again. Those with useful skills or excellent minds could be assigned to Elysium, enjoying benefits equal to their contributions.”