Road Trip Part 4 By: MAUL CinC Most Holy Synopsis: MAUL soldiers have been occupied trying to defend the city of Chicago from the invading X'hirjq armies. Things have not been going well; the G-Team has lost all but three members, and the superior technology of the invaders has proven disastrous. Now, MAUL's Commander-in-Chief, Most Holy, has been taken prisoner by a X'hirjq clan to be interrogated for information. For the last week and a half, they have subjected him to various ordeals, but haven't asked him a thing. It's almost as if they aren't interested in information, but are merely testing his endurance... --- "The cell they have placed me in is constantly illuminated by a white light- I don't know it's source. I have no concept of time, only of space. They have given me a mattress and this journal to write in. They have yet to read it, however, as I have been at this writing for what must be days now. I don't see why they should want to read it, as they can already read my mind. Why did they give it to me though? "I wonder what became of Half and Quite Holy. I hope they are alive, but hope is a commodity here. "They have asked me no questions, spoken no words to me. They only take me to a room, a circular room, with a (not uncomfortable) chair and subject my mind to various tortures. First, it was sonic- loud nerve-shattering blasts that made my spine quake. Then, they began infiltrating my mind with thoughts- evil thoughts, about death and betrayal. It was as if they were controlling my thoughts, twisting them to mean their opposite. I remember the first string of vulgarities- they made me visualize an anti-Jihad, where I was an aspiring cadet. They played out this vile scenario in my head: I was a Corporal, and my duty was to bury the corpses of our enemies. These 'enemies' turned out to be my greatest companions- Half Holy, Quite Holy, CyberPyro, the list went on. I remember each corpse with a twisted clarity. Half Holy was mutilated, decapitated. His head was tied to his wrist with Quite Holy's hair. She was scalped, and disemboweled. CyberPyro had been (in this sequence) hung, drawn and quartered. I also had to bury (for reasons that excape me) Legion Commander Sandman, J Foxglov and Windigo the Feral. Each of these had in turn been shot in the head, apparently at close range, with a high-caliber pistol. I buried each of them. Why do they do this?" -- "I have returned from a session with the X'hirjq. Again, they say nothing. This time, however, they didn't take me to the Room. I was escorted to a chamber, about the size of a walk-in closet. They put me in this thing and left me, in darkness. Some time passed, and then the air pressure started to change. It was unbearable. I can hardly hear now, and my head aches. I cannot write anymore today." -- "They spoke. They asked me who our leader was- don't they know? I told them nothing, until they brought the fire. They made me wear a heavy flak jacket, soaked in gasoline. They asked me again, holding a match not 5 inches from me. I told them. Forgive me, I told them everything. Troop strength, codes to secure channels of communication, I even told them the whereabouts of MAUL's underground bunkers. Forgive me, I even told them the locations of other Jihaddi. Should they not survive, their deaths are on my head. Forgive me!" -- "Another session- they aren't done with me. I had hoped that they would be merciful and kill me- what more do I know? I have told them everything, but no. Now they ask me for loyalty. They say that if I join them, become their agent, I will live. They made promises of gold, of material wealth. They showed me the cities of the world and said, bow down and this shall all be yours. Absolute power, absolute wealth. I am given time to think of this. They want me to give them the Jihad on a platter, to sell them out- sell US OUT!- and in reward will be given more than Alexander, more than Charlemagne, more than Caesar ever dreamed of. "For my friends, they will give me the world. "I must ask myself why I'm here. I am fighting the Demon, but why? Because I have told myself I belieive in the equality of all humankind, I believe in independant thought, in the right to act freely in accordance with a morally justifiable code. But now, under these conditions, I question my faith in the Cause. I can hold in my grip Everything. Why am I Jihaddi? "I am Jihaddi because it's right. You cannot, will not conquer me. I will not be your houseboy. I cannot justify in words why the Cause is right, it supercedes that. I am here because I must be. If not me, who? If not now, when? There is no other option. Non serviam! I will conquer you, because I will not bow to you. You may kill me, but you will not destroy me. "I hear footsteps now, coming nearer. Have they read my mind, and my decision? Is this why they gave me this book, so as to give me a false sense of security about my thoughts? It must be. I must go." The door to Most Holy's cell opened, and four X'hirjq entered. Without saying a word, they all took hold of one of his limbs and carried him from the cell. They brought him to the circular room and left him, on the floor, to wonder about his fate. Thoughts again entered his mind. [You have chosen not to serve us, and by that choice to die. But before your death, we would commend you on your fortitude. We will find another to do our work, rest assured, but as you will not help us, we have no further use for you.] [You wondered about your freids, Half and Quite Holy. They are alive, unharmed. They prepare for the task of parenthood, and serve no further threat to us. Others of your Cause are being hunted down now, their fates not to be as easy as yours.] Images began to flash before his eyes- he was sure they were hallucinations, because they were too surrealistic to be real. A giraffe with a rams head, a flaming sword duelling with a rake, and other images swirled around him, vaporiously coallescing and disappearing. They came closer, and Most Holy realized that hallucinations they may be, but they had substance. The sword attacked him, unawares, and cut him badly in the chest. A two-headed lion with a scorpions tail charged him, but he dodged successfully. He was being attacked by figments of his own immagination, made real somehow by the X'hirjq. He tried to clear his mind, to no avail- the forms were to distracting. He realized that he would die, and sat down in lotus position and began to sing. First the Dies Irae, of Mozarts Requiem. "Dies irae, dies illa solvet saeclum in favilla, teste David cum Sibylla..." The visions before him were swept away as if by a gust of wind. He wondered what was going on, a couple minutes passed, and the figures started to return. On a hunch, he began to sing again: "Confutatis maledictis flammis acribus addictis, voca me cum benedictis..." He kept singing, and stood up. The ghosts had left. He had reached the Communio (final movement) when the door to the cell openned and an important-looking X'hirjq entered. "Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine" he sang, but the X'hirjq didn't leave. He was for real. [What is this noise you make?] "Allow me safe passage from this place and I will tell you." [You have my word, the word of an honorable X'hirjq.] "...and a shotgun, loaded, and a box o' twinkies." [It shall be yours. Now speak!] "Not untill I see these things in my hands, and am outside and sure that you won't take back your word." [Very well. Follow me.] Most Holy and the X'hirjq Commander left the room and began down a series of corridors. Most Holy said nothing, but the X'hirjq was speaking his befuddlement about his singing. He said that Requiem masses were known to them, and were holy to them. They were sung upon the incarnation of a mortal X'hirjq into an immortal, who would then become a Cleric in their culture. Apparently, The X'hirjq now considered Most Holy spiritually dead, and to kill the body would be a waste of time. They were not, however, going to let him go entirely free. This drew an inquisical look from Most Holy, and the X'hirjq merely said that he would be given a chance to excape. He said no more. While the X'hirjq was discussing this, they came to an airlock. It was opened, and they passed through four more just like it. They were in a docking bay now, and Most Holy realized that he was probably on a ship. They approached a terminal of sorts, and the X'hirjq entered in what were apparently instructions, handed Most Holy a cylindrical device, and said to push the round button. He did. The two found themselves in a forest, completely isolated but for the animals and birds. On the ground lay a 10-gauge under-over and a box marked "rations". The X'hirjq then asked him about his singing the Requiem. "Specifically, I was singing parts of a musical piece, a mass for the deceased, written by a man a long time ago. We humans express ourselves in many ways, music one of them. It can be passifying, enraging, erotic, insulting, and humorous. I don't know what your equivalent is, or if you have one. I don't care either way, you will not have ours and you will not win. I will use everything I have to stop you." [I hope, then, that this wonderful gift of your people will help you in the task that awaits you, as our equivalent helps us.] "What task is that?" [You will see. I will leave you now, but we shall meet again, in battle assuredly.] With that, the X'hirjq returned to his ship, leaving Most Holy to wonder what exactly his parting words meant. But there was something odd about these woods, and now there was no sound at all, not from wind nor bird or animal. Nothing was moving, and picking up the shotgun, Most Holy waited for whatever was comming.