Ordinal #1215 kneels next to the Spark — close enough to hear its labored breathing. He twists the blade in its abdomen to great effect. The Spark bellows — a satisfying, gurgling cry. The Ordinal smiles.
“I won’t ask again,” says Ordinal #1215, his voice echoes, altered by the Chatara’s voice-veil to sound inhuman. “Where is Art3mis?”
It takes the Spark a minute to gather air and respond.
“I don’t know… I told you. I am not with the Lux.”
Ordinal #1215 stands, looks around the house with disinterest. Two dead Sparks lay next to each other.
“Then what is this?” He points at a poster on the wall. The silhouette of Art3mis printed on it.
“It’s my daughter’s. I warned her.” He wheezes each sentence. “She’s just a child. She doesn’t understand…”
Ordinal #1215 rips the poster down and crumples it. Then walks to the Spark and throws it mockingly at it. The crumpled paper bounces comically on its Chtara, landing near one of the dead Sparks.
“Now she understands what happens to Lux sympathizers.”
“I swear…”
“Save your filthy breath and tell me — ” The sound of a door opening interrupts Ordinal #1215. It’s from inside the house.
“Run, boy!” The Spark shouts.
The youngling darts to the door, where two extinguishers stand guard. There’s no escape.
“Let’s try this once more.” He twists the blade again. “Look at me!”
The Spark raises his bobbing head.
“I will kill it.”
He pauses for effect. “Unless you tell me.”
“We don’t sympathize with the Lux.”
“Then why did we get notice that unit 2790 of Circuit 5 was harboring Lux scum!”
There is a beat of silence.
“This is not unit 2790… It’s 2780…” It coughs, then resumes its weeping. “2780. 27 — ” The Ordinal buries the blade deeper and extinguishes the last spark of life in its eyes.
“Take the youngling to the Monastery.”
He walks over to the slate next to the door they had kicked in. The ID was weathered, making the 8 look like a 9. Pity. “You.”
He signals to the other extinguisher “With me. We have another stop.”
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