![gossip.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmd4k1cPnVKkVQBT1Epb8Jmfv9Q9cBGxP1K1tcKTWaCauc/gossip.jpg)

I'm posting up the chapters of this uncompleted book as I hope the Steemit community might offer up its criticism (which would, in turn, force me to finish it, honestly). Started in 2008, this was my first foray into novel writing and was my undergraduate thesis required to graduate. The story is about an executioner in the not-too-distant future. Executioners are highly trained individuals with extensive educations built to help them execute their prisoners in the exact same manner that the prisoner's victims died. This is called the law of retaliation or _lex talionis_; you may know it better as "eye for an eye."

Because I was also getting my degree in philosophy, I wanted to explore the ethics involved. While I feel I'm a better writer now and could certainly expand most of this book, I also really enjoy criticism as I'm usually too close to the work to see what's working and what's not (though in this case, there's plenty that I feel is not working). So please...feel free to criticize the work if you'd like, but be constructive about it. Simply saying "this part isn't good" doesn't tell me much; don't hesitate to tell me why it's not good or offer up possible alternatives to make it better.

Thanks in advance!

***

Previous Sections/Chapters:

_Part I_
[Chapter One](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-chapter-1) / [Two](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-chapter-2) / [Three](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-chapter-3) / [Four](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/tgjcj-the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-chapter-4) / [Five](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-chapter-5) / [Six](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-6) / 
[Seven](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-7) / [Eight](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-8) / [Nine](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-9) / [Ten](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-10) / [Eleven](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-11) / [Twelve](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-12) / 
[Thirteen](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-13) / [Fourteen](https://steemit.com/writing/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-14) / [Fifteen](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-15) / [Sixteen](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-i-chapter-16-the-end-of-part-i)

_Part II_
[Chapter One](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-11) / [Two](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-2) / [Three](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-3) / [Four](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-4) / [Five](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-5) / [Six](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-6) / 
[Seven](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-7) / [Eight](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-8) / [Nine](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-9) / [Ten](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-10) / [Eleven](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-11) / [Twelve](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-12) / [Thirteen](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-13) / [Fourteen](https://steemit.com/fiction/@bucho/the-bulwark-s-shadow-a-novel-in-progress-via-steemit-part-ii-chapter-14)

***

I stood up as he entered the cell with slow, lumbering steps. He sized me up and grunted, probably assuming I wouldn’t be much of a fighter, but pulled out his electraprod anyway. “You gonna give me any trouble or should I call for some of my friends to help me escort you?” he asked gruffly. 
“No trouble,” I replied calmly, holding my hands up in a sign of surrender. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
	
He nodded after a moment. “I’m gonna back up out of this room. When I’m fully out, I want you to step out slowly and lay down on this gurney I have to the right.”
	
“Okay,” I said as he backed out of the room, never dropping his gaze from me. When he had stopped, I shuffled out of the room and slid up onto the gurney, the fresh smell of leather and copper smacking me in the face. I recoiled at the mingling of the smells and stretched my body out across the metal surface. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him step into my vision fully, but out of arm’s length. He wasn’t taking any chances with me. 
	
“There’s a leather buckle by your right hand. I want you to slide your hand in through the loop, tighten it with your left hand and then wait.”
	
“Okay.” Without looking, I moved my right hand over, feeling the circular leather and slid my hand through it. I fumbled over the material with my left hand, but finally found the strap and pulled it taut, but not enough to cut off circulation. I knew he’d come to check it anyway. 
	
“Good, thank you for being cooperative,” he said almost cordially. “Now, I want you to slide your left hand in the left strap and sit tight.”
	
Without a word, I found the strap and did as I was told. I kept staring at the ceiling, hoping to avoid any unnecessary outbursts or suspicions of my not following orders. I heard him sheath his electraprod as he stepped close to the gurney. The strap tightened up quickly around my left wrist and I grimaced. “Too tight?” he asked. I thought I heard genuine concern hidden beneath the question, but simply shook my head no. A second later, the strap had loosened to a more comfortable, but still secure, tightness. 
	
His boots struck the floor with every footstep as he walked to the foot of the gurney. “I’m going to tie up your left leg first, then your right, then I’m going to check the strap on your right arm. I would strongly recommend that neither of your feet move during the process as I will take it to be an act of resistance. Should that happen…”
	
“It won’t,” I said quickly. “It won’t. I have no intention of resisting.”
	
“Good,” he replied quietly, moving to strap down my left leg. Once that was secure he moved to the right and strapped it down as well. He checked the strap on my right arm and muttered his approval as he moved to the head of the gurney. I noticed the ceiling in this part of the prison was taller than I imagined. I hadn’t really noticed it my first day coming down here, but I could hear the sodium arc lights buzzing overhead as he began to push the gurney down the hallway. 
	
I kept silent as we passed row after row of lights. For every set that was turned on and blazing, three sets were off and dark. I kept my head down the entire ride for fear of being shocked, but vaguely recognized the thick metal doors that led down to this particular hub as they raised open with a loud, metallic groan. The ride was smooth and we rolled along at a nice pace. I felt a singular breeze wash over my face and my eyes watered at the chill as we turned a corner. Having not paid attention to the turns we were making, I lost track of where we were until finally he stopped at another large metal door with no windows. Half the size of the hub doors, this one opened like an office and he rolled me through the entryway. The smell of copper was overpowering in here and I felt a sickness building in my gut. I was about to die here. This wasn’t some chance encounter – someone had played me for a cruel joke with the edible note, raised a dying man’s spirits maliciously. Was this how it all went down, with a joke and a gurney? 
	
I tasted anger on my tongue as I saw the guard slip on a heavy apron. It was a deep brown, almost black, and stains mottled the front. He held up a tiny vial of clear liquid and stuck a hypodermic needle through the top, sucking out enough to fill the syringe a quarter of the way. He moved to another part of the room and I noticed the gleam of polished silver resting atop a pillow of velvety red fabric on the counter space. Despite my best attempts at calm, I felt my breathing shorten and hyperventilate as my heart boomed like a kick drum inside my chest. I closed my eyes and felt a rivulet of sweat fall from my forehead to my left ear lobe. This wasn’t your normal, run-of-the-mill guard, I realized slowly. This was my executioner.
	
“Do not regret the past. Look to the future,” I whispered to myself. “Have the fearless attitude of a hero and the loving heart of a child.”
	
“What was that?” the guard asked as he flicked the syringe, ridding it of air bubbles. 
	
“Just reciting a koan is all,” I replied, my voice wavering. “I figure if this is the last time I get to know this earthly body, I’d like to at least remember my teachings.” I clenched and unclenched my hands in nervous anticipation, waiting for the prick of a needle somewhere on my body, and exhaled loudly. 
	
From my right side I could see that he had put the needle down on a silver tray that moved as if on wheels. He slid a stool up to the side of the gurney and stared down at me, examining my forehead, my nose, my mouth, my ears and then examined each of my fingers and toes, having first removed my shoes and socks. He did this wordlessly, nodding to himself after each body part before moving on to the next one. He was methodical and moved slowly, stretching out already long minutes until it felt like a day had passed.
	
I stared at the ceiling and tried to find a white place within my mind, a place of infinite serenity and the absence of everything. I felt a slap across my face and I came back to the reality of the room. “What was that for?” I asked, angry at my treatment. 
	
“You passed out. You can’t pass out yet. That’s not how this works.”
	
“I didn’t pass out. I was trying to meditate to calm my nerves.”
	
He held up the syringe and gave me a blank look. “That’s what this is for,” he said calmly. “Besides, I need you here mentally as well. It wouldn’t be polite otherwise.”
	
I pressed my lips together and felt my eyes misting. Of course there was no easy way out of this situation, that’s not how this was supposed to go. It never had been. No deus ex machina would rear its head in this tragedy. 
	
“You’ve been cooperative this far,” he started quietly, moving and arranging objects on his gliding tray. “I’d hate to see that end with us so close to the end, now.” He walked away from the gurney and I heard running water, followed by hands sloshing together. The faucet turned off and the sound of cloth tearing and he walked back to the gurney, drying off his hands. “I’ve been doing this job almost as long as you’ve been here, did you know that?”
	
I shook my head. 
	
“No, of course you didn’t. They don’t really tell the prisoners here anything, do they? Well, let me tell ya, you’re quite the anomaly here. Everyone seems to have their own ideas about you and who you are and what you’ve done. I was actually given the option,” he said, spitting the last word out, “of taking your particular case. Everyone knew I’d take it of course, so it wasn’t an option so much as it was a polite handing off of something no one else wanted to touch.” He spoke calmly and close to my face, sitting back down on the stool to look down on me. 
	
“Why’s that?” I asked. Me? The center of gossip in a prison? 
	
“That’s an excellent question,” he replied, grabbing the syringe. “But for now, you and I have other business to attend to.” 
	
I felt the needle stick in the upper part of my right arm and watched him depress the liquid. “This is merely a sedative. It will knock you out completely and when you wake up in about an hour, you will not be able to move. You will be able to speak, but you will not be able to move. Thanks to this special paralytic, however,” he said, holding up a different syringe filled with a light blue liquid, “you’ll be able to feel anything physical. Do you understand what I’m telling you? Is this all clear?”
	
I nodded as he seemed to split into two separate people. My eyelids had gotten heavy and my body went limp. I could see his face above me and I could see his lips move as his voice seemed to echo off into eternity. Effortlessly, I passed into dreamless sleep still strapped to the gurney as a small bit of drool dribbled out of the corner of my mouth. Here was the black I had been looking for and finally found. Here was the place where last thoughts birthed and died, swimming along until someone grabbed hold and made them their own. 

“We have much to discuss,” someone whispered from the abyss.