Season 02 - Episode 19

‘missing eye brothers’

Ny is busy. He is fashioning sets of rudimentary pliers made from scavenged material. It is intricate, laborious work and he has four more sets to construct and deliver before the end of the day. Add to that the two food hatches he's promised to fix today as well and he has a jam packed schedule.

Part of his mind is focused, concentrating on steering his nimble old fingers through the work. Another part of him however, is revelling in the pressure, enjoying the heady rush of meaningful activity, the feeling of being useful.

He finishes the one set of pliers, tests them out then places them beside the other finished articles. As he reaches for the parts of the next set, he realises he is grinning and begins to whistle to himself as he works.

Memories of the last time he whistled and worked float up now. Decades before, when he felt old but was actually still young. Sitting here at his bench, working and whistling while she worked or read or cleaned, humming along.

They'd go for hours without speaking a word, each engrossed in separate, isolated tasks and yet somehow, he'd never felt closer to anyone in his life. Those years of everyday normality had seemed just average then, as if they were killing time while waiting for something better. Looking back now, he realises those were the best times of all.

His fingers pause in their work and Ny looks over to the empty armchair, her armchair. He feels the old sadness return. It remains heavy in his chest but its corners have worn smooth now and it's wrapped in soft, warm memories.

A sudden banging at the door makes him jump. Ny quickly throws a cloth over his work then strides to the door. Before he opens it, he takes a moment to hunch his shoulders and curve his spine. He sets his eyes to a squint and curls his fingers into claws. He moves to open the door slowly, preparing a confused and croaky voice.

“Hello?” he quavers weakly.

The door is shoved roughly wide and three bald men force their way inside. One of them shoves Ny in the chest until his back is against the opposite wall. He recognises them as The Disciples of The Beast. As he watches, more of them file into the room, each dragging one of Ny's neighbours with them. All but one of the Disciples have scarred faces and a missing eye.

“Brothers and sisters!” shouts the tallest of the Disciples, apparently the leader. “We bring you a message from The Beast!”

Ny is held at each elbow by a Disciple while his neighbours are shoved together into a tight group around the armchairs. Each face shows some degree of terror, though Es manages to hide it well. Ny notices Ol is not among them.

“GovCo is waging war on The Fourth!” shouts the leader. “On all of us, not just on us but on you as well. While you sit in your rooms, it is us, The Disciples of The Beast who are out there fighting for you! Dying, for you! For your freedom!”

The Disciples are all bristling to explode, all except one. He looks to be the youngest and still has both eyes. He stands towards the back, by Ny's bed and looks almost as scared as the neighbours.

“We do this for you!” cries the leader, stepping towards Ny. “We sacrifice everything for you and all we ask in return, is a little solidarity. We can only defeat GovCo by all standing together as one. That means anyone who steals from The Beast is also stealing from you.”

With a flourish, the man swipes the cloth up and off Ny's work. At the same time, other Disciples tear the mattress from Ny's bed, revealing his tools and some stored food.

“This man!” cries the leader, pointing a blackened fingernail at Ny. “Has withheld food, tools and equipment from The Beast, things we could be using to fight GovCo, for you! He is working against us which means he's working for GovCo. This man is a traitor!”

Ny's mind is racing, trying to find the words, an idea, anything. Before he can speak or even think however, the leader seizes him, drags him to his workbench and takes an enormous cleaver from his belt.

He cuts off Ny's right hand.

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