Felipe smiled from behind Sylvia. “Jes, untie him. Let’s see the puppet dance!”
Shila ignored them both. Then, lowering his voice to a mere whisper akin to the sound of a fork scraping a stone, he asked his wife, “Would you cast aside all our years of work? Our beliefs, our service to God? Would you sever your commitment to our people?”
“What do you know of commitment?” Danielle asked coldly. “You are like these seculars. They shake hands, exchange chits, give someone their word. What do these things mean? They change their minds five minutes later and the world goes on as if nothing happened. You want to know the words of commitment?” She raised her arms, her glowing robe making her look like an angel. “Pulsa D’nura. That is a commitment. Our daughter, she was the ayah we sought all this time. And her foolish father is too old and blind to see it.”
“No, mi amor. The Pulsa D’nura is a curse, not a miracle.”
“El que no cree,” she uttered scornfully, confounding Joel2, who was wishing now he’d paid more attention in Spanish class. “Suddenly everything can only have one meaning. You want a question?” Turning to Sylvia, she asked, “Tell me, bruja, what is the difference between a curse and a prayer?”
Sylvia continued staring at the floor.
“Tell me!” Danielle yelled.
“Don’t you fucking yell at my wife!” Joel2 shouted back.
Sylvia shook her head. Though he couldn’t see her eyes, he knew that she didn’t want him to aggravate the situation.
“Answer,” said Danielle, grabbing a fistful of Joel2’s hair. “Or I will dash out your creation’s brains on this table.”
“Intent,” Sylvia said, meeting her captor’s eyes.
“Sí, intent. And who determines intent?” Not waiting for an answer this time, she let go of Joel2 and pivoted to face her husband. “The Pulsa D’nura is a compact between creation and creator. It compels both to act. The request needs power, like fuel, like gravity. The more penitent the creation, the cleaner the fuel. In old times people sacrificed animals when they asked God for things. The more valuable the animal, the more public the display, the more fuel for their prayers. Personal sacrifice is a great fuel. Martyrdom, however, that is the greatest fuel of all.” Her eyes shone, bright and distant. “It wakes up the hibernating devout, the Gehinnomites who have been asleep for a generation or more. They have seen my Joanna’s sacrifice for a selfless cause. And when they see her rise again, a female Christ, they will be compelled by God to act!”
“Danielle,” Roberto pleaded. “Do you truly believe Joanna would—”
“Lo que haces se te devuelve, Roberto!” Danielle cut him off. “While you idled away your time with plots and strategies, our daughter planned her sacrifice. She delivered unto us the bruja and her puppet. What we do with them is up to us.”
“I won’t do it,” said Sylvia. “Honeycomb was a mistake. I shouldn’t have used it on Joel and I never will again.”
A mistake, thought Joel2 bitterly. Is that what she sees me as now? Before he could go further with that dark thought, Danielle gripped a handful of his hair again, yanking his head back to expose his throat.
“I do not care if he is the ayah or not.” She spoke quietly, keeping her eyes fixed on Sylvia. “Felipe will torture him just the same until you bring back my daughter. Judging by your resistance so far, he may end up losing a few teeth. Maybe a finger, an ear. But I suspect you will break before we take his eyes.”
“No!” Sylvia said.
“I agree,” said Roberto in his metallic voice. “No more. Felipe, please take Danielle away and confine her to her room. She is unwell.”
Felipe did not respond. Both of the ancient Gehinnomites looked to the guard. There was a rumble in the ground, like a low-magnitude, short-lived earthquake. Before anyone could comment on it, Danielle gave Felipe a single curt nod—
And the guard let go of Sylvia. He stepped forward, swinging a heavy red brick into Roberto Shila’s cheek. The strike was so powerful, it knocked the frail old man clear out of his wheelchair. As he fell, Roberto’s foot became tangled in the armrest, pulling the heavy chair on top of him. His small jamming weapon clattered across the floor.
Sylvia jumped as some of the old man’s blood splashed her face. Joel2 pulled against Danielle, but she removed a hunting knife from underneath her robe and held it under his chin. Her eyes were ringed with tears, but fierce.
“I thought you were supposed to be pacifists!” Joel2 yelled.
The old woman jerked her head toward her limp husband. “He was. And look where it got him. For decades we have peacefully protested your technology, and nothing changed. My daughter destroys one TC, and in a day we have both of you. You will do what we ask or continue to suffer the consequences.”
Her threat was delivered matter-of-factly, more a promise than a warning. She just ordered a hit on her own husband. Pretty sure she won’t go easy on me. He unconsciously found himself feeling his teeth with his tongue, imagining what it would feel like to have them ripped from his jaw one by one while his wife watched and begged them to stop. It wasn’t a pleasant prospect, but they couldn’t give in to these assholes, either. “Fuck you,” he said to Danielle.
Felipe dropped the bloody rock. He briskly walked across the room and took the knife from Danielle. Keeping one hand on Joel2’s bound wrists, he pressed the blade to the base of his right pinkie. “Puta estúpida. You will change your song soon enough.”
He pressed down on the knife. Pain bit into Joel2’s hand. A thin line of blood ran down his palm, dripping onto the gray stone floor. Danielle nodded for him to continue, her face shining with expectation.
“Wait!” said Sylvia. Felipe and Danielle turned. “If … if I do this, do I have your word we are free to go?”
“What?” Joel2 said, shocked that she would even entertain the notion after all they’d been through. “Sylvia! Don’t—” He bent over coughing as Felipe socked him in the solar plexus.
“My word?” Danielle spat on the floor near the discarded bloody brick. “Here is my word. I will take you with me to the hospital, bruja. Felipe will have his pliers and knives, keeping your husband company. Should you waver, you will watch on my comms as Felipe removes teeth, nails, then fingers with each of your hesitations. Then, with my daughter by my side, you, bruja, will fulfill my husband’s last wish and confess everything you have done—your sins—to the world. If you are still alive after that, you are free to go live your miserable lives.”
There was a long silence, during which Joel2 made eye contact with Felipe. He saw in the Gehinnomite’s expression that he would follow through on everything Danielle had promised, and more. He would relish it.
“I’ll do it,” said Sylvia.