Riddik's Story: Escape

When Riddik first heard of the two magic-bound children, he had an idea. When he saw the havoc they created when they slipped their bounds, that idea turned into a plan. The two were shipped off the planet with new guardians, hopefully to no longer trouble their families and the people around them, but that was just fine. He could be patient. He had a plan, and that plan might take some time to put into motion, so patience it was.

In the meantime, there were wars to fight and battles to survive. For such a prudish, stuck-up race, his captors did love their bloodiness. Or perhaps because they were a prudish, stuck-up race, they loved their bloodiness. Riddik didn't really care about the why of the thing, not any farther than was required to understand how to work with it, how to use it. He just had to survive it and, soon enough, get away from it.

Which was why he was glad no one knew he had long since won over his own guardian. No one dared pair him with one of their own-- their brand of magic didn't work on him, and his first, unfortunately failed attempt at escape had proved that beyond a doubt-- so he was shackled to one of the constructs. A creature created by magic but which didn't wield it-- that had far different and far more effective means of keeping him subdued when he wasn't needed-- was safer to waste on a monster like him than a real person. The efficiency of his new cage, however, simply meant that he had to find another way to make sure he was not being controlled by his new keeper.

Because he hated being controlled.

"Your friend's in town tomorrow night."

"Hmm," Twenty-Eight said non-commitally. It was dim enough in the room that he could see him without the filter of his shaded goggles, and as he watched Twenty-Eight, he recognized the signs of his interest behind the lack of obvious response: even the supposedly emotionless feline construct had tells. His tail tips curled a little too much, his ears twitched, his eyes would not meet Riddik's, and he carefully said nothing.

"Off assignment," Riddik added with a smirk.

Twenty-Eight's silence was proof enough. The fact that he got up and moved further from his charge, lessening the aura of ambivalence on him, only confirmed it. Twenty-Eight was pleased, and rewarded him appropriately. Riddik felt like he could think clearer, already; clear enough to resent being "rewarded" for anything, even if it did further his aims.

"I can give you the Wayhouse number," he offered. "Take you there."

"And what do you want, in return?" Twenty-Eight asked dryly, looking back over his shoulder and wrapping his two tails around each other, like one long, furry braid.

"You wound me," Riddik told him. "Deeply."

"I know you." The smirk on the feline muzzle died, and a flicker of actual emotion took its place, briefly, before it faded beneath his usual blandness. "You're going to make another attempt, aren't you? Geas or no geas? While I'm-- busy?"

"Now what would give you that idea?" Free of the construct's restricting aura, Riddik was perfectly free to pull out his curved dagger and idly pick his claws with it, giving Twenty-Eight an innocent look.

"I know you," Twenty-Eight repeated, this time without a smile, or even a twitch of whisker. "I ignored your interest in the routes through the city and I let you remain focused when you watched the changing of the guard. I looked the other way when you memorized the schematics of the new airships landing tonight. And," he added last, "I know who else is staying in this city tomorrow night. You have an appointment to meet her this very afternoon."

Riddik said nothing, he merely cleaned under another claw, eyes on the flick of his blade. Obviously, Twenty-Eight had more to say, or else he would not have done all of those things that he had done, to give Riddik the means to further his plan. There was a long pause as Twenty-Eight looked at him solemnly, both of them waiting for the other to speak.

Twenty-Eight gave in first. "I want to come with you."

Riddik inclined his head without looking up. That was a given.

Twenty-Eight drew a breath that had more emotion in it than usual: it actually shook slightly. He even unwound his tails to flick them-- not quite a lash-- one after the other, as he said, "I want Thirty-Two to come with us, too."

The construct had obviously expected him to protest, because when Riddik inclined his head again, he looked briefly confused, even in the indirect glance Riddik took at him. Really, Riddik would have preferred to leave his keeper's "friend" behind, because he was, on the whole, completely useless, but he knew that towing him along for the ride would be the price of his escape, because it was the price of his keeper. That, he had learned long ago, and so he had formulated his plan around the two of them rather than just Twenty-Eight, who he was going to be able to use. Every silver lining had it's cloud, he supposed.

Riddik finally looked at him again. "You'll have to do exactly as I say if you want off this rock alive," he said. "You'll have to trust me."

Twenty-Eight laughed lightly, though not exactly with humor. "I would not trust you any farther than I could reach you."

"Then you and your friend will be captured. Probably executed." Riddik shrugged; it wasn't his problem if the cat couldn't take orders.

"And yourself?" Twenty-Eight asked.

Riddik smiled. "It'll take more than a mage or two and a handful of infantry-constructs that I order around every day to bring me down. If you can keep up with me and make yourself useful, you can come with me. If you drag me down, I cut you loose. Understand?"

"You know you can't do that," Twenty-Eight admonished.

"Watch me," Riddik smiled more broadly.

There was a brief pause, and Twenty-Eight flicked an ear. "I should just turn you in," he said, voice devoid of emotion, as if he'd just said that the weather was nice out.

"If you think you can get along without me feeding you information about your friend, if you think you can keep him a secret forever...." Riddik shrugged again and went back to his claws. "Be my guest."

For a moment, he half-expected the construct to turn back and engulf him in the aura of indifference and lassitude again, punishment for going too far, but after a long pause-- in which he kept himself carefully casual and not watching his keeper-- Twenty-Eight looked away and padded from the room. Leaving him alone. Not entirely alone, of course, because his duty was to make sure the one-of-a-kind war general and killer did not escape-- did not even contemplate escape-- so he could never really leave, could never put more than a few rooms and a few walls between them. The range for comfort was just over one hundred feet; the range for discomfort was almost five hundred; the range for pain was anything beyond that. It made a few of his jobs in the past more difficult, but he'd been forced to work around the restriction.

Which, of course, was why taking Twenty-Eight was a given, at least until they could break that particular geas, one of the few magics that had worked on him. Even though it had taken an entire company of mages working in concert to do it, heh. And why his confidence at being able to cut him loose was a bluff-- mostly, anyway. If he could manage to kill the construct, he thought he might be free, but he wasn't sure of his ability to kill him before he got Riddik himself killed.

That was also why he'd banked on the construct wanting to come with him. Twenty-Eight didn't like being controlled any more than Riddik himself did, though he was less violent and more stealthy about his rebellions. More importantly, he didn't want to lose the only thing in his dull, bland life that he actually cared about, which he would as soon as the mages and warlords discovered it-- lose it, or have it used against him. Both were unacceptable.

So, Riddik had been very careful about using it against him. Twenty-Eight didn't even realize what a stroke of luck it had been that he had been assigned to Riddik rather than some other feline construct, and how Riddik had used that. Used it subtly, of course, and in the disguise of helping him, but still. He definitely used it. If he was lucky, it would stay that way, with Twenty-Eight oblivious to his motives, at least until the geas connecting them was lifted and he could leave his keeper far behind. Riddik had enough power of his own to keep his feelings to himself when Twenty-Eight had no reason to really exert himself, and he was careful to do so at all times.

So they were escaping tomorrow night. The plan was already worked out in Riddik's head. As long as everyone acted as he expected them to, as long as they actually obeyed him as much as they were able, it would go smoothly. He had a few contingency plans in case they didn't, of course, but he had high hopes. By this time, in two days, he would be free.