The Shyntanil attendants put him in an upright metal framework full of rods, plates and shackles which they used to hold him in place. Most of his outer garments were stripped off, exposing bare skin to curved cold sections and restraining straps made from some heavy, rough material. Soon every limb was gripped fast, as were his head and jaw, chest and midriff. Then came the medication. Grimy vials of something purplish-brown were clamped to the main frame at head height and from them lengths of opaque stained tubing ran down his arms to where the needles were inserted into stinging incisions.
Part of him wanted to wail and beg but he knew that it was pointless to look for compassion from such creatures. They stank of death and their entire ship was a tomb where corpses moved and marched and fought in a withered semblance of life.
Nothing was said as the attendants tipped him back and wheeled him out and along a rust-streaked corridor through sluggish retracting doors then down a sloping section to a bright-lit, low-ceilinged deck. Before him stretched a passageway lined with tall recesses, many of which were occupied by similarly restrained captives. Some looked alive, others had a deathly pallor. Kao Chih would have focused on these passing details but his thoughts started to drift as the unknown drips began to take effect.
To his narcotised eyes, the occupants of the lines of recesses were smiling at him as he passed by, nodding and winking. Welcome to Di-Yu, they were saying, welcome to the Hell of the Iron Web. One said, The god Ping-Deng-Wang is the judge here. Another said, Have you committed any of the Ten Unpardonable Sins? If you have, you’ll be stuck here for eternity…
I haven’t, honestly, I give you my word! he desperately wanted to say as he opened his eyes, not realising that he had closed them…
He was shocked to find that he was now in a recess, gazing across at another unfortunate who hung limply amid his own web of restraints. I must have passed out, he reasoned but when he peered at the drug vials they looked almost full. A nameless, inescapable fear twisted in the pit of his stomach, which ached with hunger. Then, amid his anguish, he noticed that the captive opposite, a lanky humanoid with a blockish head, had opened one dark and gleaming eye and was staring straight at him.
But the drugs were muffling his senses again, numbing the complaints from his stomach, surging steadily up into a great warm heavy wave that just rolled over him, tumbling him into a glittering darkness…
Voices woke him the next time, along with the trundle of wheels and the rattle of implements. He listened with eyes closed.
‘… why is this one kept from the caul? It’s ripe for it…’
‘Orders from the Greatlords–Humans are now to be held for our Vor brothers, for their uses…’
‘Pauch!–mindeater scum–not my brothers! No honour, bad fate…’
‘Bad fate if Old Irontooth hears your whining…’
Vials clinked and moments later a torpid tide poured through his veins, tingling then numbing and smothering…