by Andy Briggs
“The cave-in must have disconnected the power. Help me try and open it.”
The three of them had trouble maintaining any grip on the smooth metal door, and with no clear indication on which way it opened, they pushed, pulled and tried to slide it – all directions at the same time, until Lot snapped at them to try each in turn.
The door remained resolutely closed.
“We’re going to die in here,” said Lot with a barely contained sob.
“Somebody will come,” Mason said, with an uncharacteristic note of confidence.
Dev wasn’t feeling so positive. He had tried his best to ensure they couldn’t be traced, and it might be weeks before the World Consortium would excavate this prison – if they would even bother, with the Collector gone.
No, thought Dev, he wouldn’t accept defeat. It wasn’t in him. No matter how dire the odds, he believed there was a solution. Insurmountable problems were just a list of smaller difficulties that needed to be solved in sequence.
Problem one: suffocation. They needed more air, but how could they make air? It wasn’t as if they carried it around. . .
“Put your helmets on!” he commanded.
With some difficulty in the confined space, he slid his in place. After a moment’s hesitation, the others did the same, and he saw the smiles of appreciation as they sucked in cool, compressed air from the suit’s small oxygen canister. Dropping from forty thousand feet, where the air was too thin to breathe, meant HALO divers needed to carry oxygen. It wasn’t much, but it would keep them going for at least another ten minutes.
Problem two: being buried under tonnes of earth. Once more, with just a little thought, the solution was obvious. Their PhantomSuits would allow them to scramble through the dirt as if it were water – although heading straight up would be a problem. Firstly, even standing on the floor, their ghostly feet would slowly pass through the ground and they would sink further into the earth. Pushing upwards would be impossible.
Secondly, the suit’s power was designed for a single free fall. They were already running on reserve, and the notion of the power dying while they were in the middle of some other material terrified him.
The door, however. . .
Dev took a firm step towards the door and made as much of a practice jump as he could within the tight space, bouncing off the metal with a thud.
Lot understood what he was trying to do. “You need to get the timing right. Activate the suit the second you jump and, if you’re going fast enough, you should phase through the door – just remember to cut the power before you land on the other side.”
“And if I’m not going fast enough?”
Lot hesitated before answering. “You might disconnect the power before you’re through the door.”
“Which means I’ll get stuck in the door?”
Lot pulled a grim face and nodded. “Watch me.”
With little room to move, she positioned herself against the dirt wall and used her legs to spring forward. She jumped – activated the suit – and slid through the solid door like a ghost.
Mason and Dev stared at each other in terror. They couldn’t hear anything through the door, so they had no idea if Lot had made it through OK. They had no choice.
“Wish me luck,” said Mason, licking his lips. Then he hurled himself towards the door, jumping – and passing through with just the slightest of noises.
Alone, Dev felt nervous. He forced himself to calm down and allowed his synaesthesia to take control of the PhantomSuit. He imitated Lot’s movements exactly and made the jump.
In the corridor beyond, Dev landed on the floor with a thump as the suit powered down. He jumped to his feet and jiggled every limb to check he wasn’t stuck in anything. He wasn’t.
Lot and Mason, having removed their helmets, beamed at him.
“Wasn’t that cool?” said Lot.
Dev shook his head. “No. I prefer using doors when they’re open.” He looked around the corridor they had jumped into. The klaxons were still sounding. There were state-of-the-art sensors and cameras everywhere – all of which deactivated the moment Dev was able to touch a motion sensor and use his synaesthesia to convince the system to go into sleep mode.
“This is going to be easy,” he chuckled as they ran down the corridor as fast as they could. Rather than risk another phase through the second door, Dev used his abilities once again to talk to the system. The door slid open, and they entered another room with a single exit: a large freight elevator used to ship prisoners in and out.
Dev summoned the elevator and gave a reassuring thumbs up to the others. “We’re going to walk right out of here.”
“You know this looks bad,” said Lot after a thoughtful pause. “We steal the Avro, sneak out to the prison, and the Collector breaks out the moment we arrived because you. . .”
“Led Shadow Helix straight to him,” Dev finished for her.
Mason shifted nervously. “That’s, um, a pretty big coincidence.” He didn’t look Dev straight in the eye. He glanced at Lot, who was staring at him levelly.
Dev’s mouth felt dry. “I don’t know how.”
Lot held his gaze. “It’s going to take a lot of persuading to convince them this is a big misunderstanding. And your uncle doesn’t have the largest imagination.”
“You’re right. Which means we can’t go back.”
Mason reacted in surprise, as usual several steps behind in the conversation. “Wait, what?”
“We can’t return without the Collector and without Newton’s Arrow. They didn’t trust me before this; do you think they ever will again? And the way the Collector was talking. . .” Dev didn’t want to finish that line of thought, but he was pretty sure that “dissolution” wasn’t a good thing.
The elevator doors opened. It was difficult to say who was more surprised – the five heavily armed prison guards who had been sent to check on the prisoner, or Dev, Lot and Mason, who froze on the spot.
Then the first shot rang out.
Mason had pulled the trigger on instinct. This time the net-gun had fired, the carbon-fibre mesh spinning out and wrapping around one of the guards, pinning his arms to his side.
His four companions raised their weapons – shock-batons, the ends of which crackled with high-voltage electricity. The batons were designed to hurt their victims and knock them out of action. Years of riot training took over, and the men surged from the elevator in a solid wall of muscle.
The elevator was the only way out. Dev knew that fleeing back the way they came would just result in their capture. The Collector’s odd warning that Dev would be made redundant had scared him. He knew that the Collector had originally been created to look after the Inventory, just as he had. That had led to him not only escaping but also taking revenge on Charles and the World Consortium.
From an outside point of view, it now looked like history was repeating itself.
No. They had to escape in order to make everything right.
A loud crack from Lot’s direction brought Dev back to the situation. She had just about managed to fend off a shock-baton using her stun gun. The loud spark had flung the baton from the guard’s hand, but Lot had managed to position herself in a corner. The guards had split in a classic divide-and-conquer tactic, the other baton-wielding guard herding both Mason and Dev together in the opposite corner.
There was only one way out.
Dev shouted, “Guys, we only have one option. Use the suits.”
He hoped they understood, because there was no time to explain. With a bellow, Dev charged at the guard blocking his path. The guard clearly hadn’t been expecting such a blatant attack, but held out his arms so he formed a human wall across Dev.
Dev activated his PhantomSuit and jumped, hitting the guard at full speed. He was sure that what happened next would stay with him for the rest of his life. He phased through the guard.
As with the soil and door, Dev could feel the textures as he phased through the man. He thought i
t was like wading through strawberry jam – thick and gooey, with an unsettling taste of pork. He saw flashes of red, grey and white as he passed through internal organs, bone, flesh and fat. His ears throbbed as he heard the man’s rapidly pumping heart right next to – and probably inside – his own ears. And the smell of blood was overpowering.
The grotesque nightmare was over in a second – and with a chime, Dev’s suit deactivated and he tumbled into the elevator. Mason and Lot stumbled in immediately after him and sank to their knees. As the elevator doors closed, he saw the guards’ horrified expressions as they pawed at their own bodies in disgust.
The elevator rose, and for several long moments nobody spoke. Then, finally, Mason broke the silence.
“I’ll never eat a burger again,” he said sullenly.
“We’re still not out of this yet,” Dev reminded him. “We all need to stay focused now. To them, we’re the enemy.”
A new chime sounded in their suits, alerting them all that the power supply was about to fail. Dev shook his head in disbelief: no matter how great the gadgets, no one ever bothered to develop batteries that could work long enough.
“So we’re on our own now,” said Lot quietly.
Dev pulled out his phone and contacted the Avro.
“With any luck, we can slip out of here without anybody else noticing,” he said in what he hoped was an enthusiastic voice.
The elevator doors slid open – and the prison’s entire security force was waiting to greet them.
Without hesitation, Mason threw his hands up. “I surrender.”
The guards hadn’t been expecting that, and it was the perfect distraction as all eyes fell on him. Nobody was watching Dev as his thumb slid across the surface of the phone clutched in his hand.
“You two – hands up!” shouted a guard, pointing a menacing laser rifle first at Lot, then at Dev, and they both raised their hands.
“Should we get on the floor too?” suggested Dev.
The guard had been ready to bark that very order, so he was thrown, unsure what to say. Dev, Lot and Mason all dropped to their knees.
The guard took a step closer; he was feeling cocky. “Right, you miserable—”
With a roar, the guards were suddenly flung aside like skittles as a mighty downdraught of air blew from above. Dev saw that some guards who were not blown off their feet appeared to crack their heads on something invisible. They staggered, then fell alongside the others.
The Avro de-cloaked in a shimmer of air, hovering just above the ground at head height. The ramp was already open, and the teens ran for it before the guards could stop them.
Lot ran inside and headed straight for the pilot seat. Mason, who was lagging behind on the ramp, suddenly yelped as the cocky guard grabbed his leg, having scrambled up after.
“He’s got me!” Mason yelled.
Dev doubled back for Mason. “Lot, get us out of here!”
Lot didn’t turn around. She held the controls in both hands, and her face was screwed up in concentration.
“Gotcha!” growled the guard as he pulled Mason back down the ramp. Mason kicked at the man’s hand, but the guard refused to let go.
With a sudden lurch, the disc began to pull away from the ground; then it wobbled in the air like somebody riding a bicycle for the first time. The guard’s legs dangled over the lip of the ramp as he was lifted up, then he felt himself sliding off, pulling Mason along with him.
“Help me!” Mason bellowed.
Dev grabbed a handgrip bolted to the side of the wall, his other hand snagging Mason’s arm. Dev screamed with the sudden strain of supporting the weight of two people.
Below, the guards watched in astonishment as the flying saucer teetered through the air with their commanding officer hanging from the ramp. The rim of the disc caught the brick perimeter wall of the prison, denting the fuselage and causing the craft to jolt violently.
It was enough of an impact for the guard to lose his grip on Mason’s leg. Mason and Dev watched as the man slid off the edge of the ramp and dropped on to several of his men below. The ramp sealed shut, and the ship shimmied, making it difficult for them to stand.
Dev managed to support himself with the back of Lot’s chair before he saw the view through the cockpit canopy. They were plummeting towards the ocean!
“Pull up!” he yelled as he swung himself around the chair and slumped next to Lot.
Lot yanked the control stick backwards. They were in such a steep dive that the aircraft’s belly hit the water – causing it to skip into the air.
A wave broke over the disc, causing it to shudder again, but Lot soon had the craft in a gentle climb and accelerated away from the island.
Dev patted Lot on the shoulder. “Well done!”
Lot barely acknowledged him, her brow still creased in concentration. Eventually she allowed herself to relax and looked sidelong at Dev. “So where to now?”
“Well, the World Consortium will think we’ve gone rogue and are helping the enemy. On the other hand, right now it looks like we might be the only ones who can stop Shadow Helix.”
Lot and Mason weighed up their situation.
“When you say it like that,” said Mason, “you make it sound bad.”
Dev nodded. “We’re on the run, guys. Fugitives.”
“We’ll make this work,” said Lot, “won’t we? And soon. My parents will go crazy if I’m not back for school.”
“Of course we will,” Dev assured her. He just didn’t want to say that he had no idea how.
Charles Parker read the on-screen report for the fourth time. Sergeant Wade stood behind him, anxiously wringing her hands.
“Aliens,” said Charles flatly.
“Three small figures clad in spacesuits, is what they all said. The cameras didn’t record a thing. They escaped . . . in a flying saucer.”
Charles Parker rubbed his temples; he was beginning to develop a migraine. “I can assure you aliens didn’t help the Collector escape.”
“Then who did?”
Wade had been outside of the Inventory, so Charles couldn’t blame her for not knowing all the facts. He stared at the words on the screen. He didn’t want to tell her, but knew he must.
“The Avro has been stolen.”
“Our Avro? Stolen?” The words were already spoken before Wade pieced it together. “And the children. . .?”
“Missing.”
“I think it’s a safe bet to assume they haven’t been kidnapped.”
Charles turned in his chair and looked at her. His face was heavy with sadness. “You are correct. Yet again, Dev tricked our security here. According to the access logs it was I who entered the hangar and took the craft on a joyride.”
“But maybe they—”
“They put a guard to sleep and evaded Eema. They knew exactly what they were doing. Eema, tell the sergeant what you discovered.”
Eema’s voice purred over the computer. “Devon’s search history indicates that he searched for the Collector’s location and downloaded the navigational coordinates and the blueprints for Tartarus Prison.”
Wade couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “He intentionally rescued the Collector?”
“It appears so,” replied Eema.
Wade was aghast. “I don’t believe he would do such a thing.”
Charles rose from his seat and rubbed his tired eyes. “It’s easy to forget that the Collector himself was once a product here. It seems I have been foolish to ignore the behavioural patterns. As to why Dev would do such a thing. . .” He gestured helplessly with both hands.
“I told you not to trust the Collector.” Wade was unable to keep the accusatory tone from her voice. “Yet you told him exactly where we were in the search for artefacts. You gave him information about Newton’s Arrow he shouldn’t have had!” Charles Parker looked away, ashamed. “They now know all about Professor Liu . . . because of you.”
“I am aware of my mistakes, thank you. As it is, we must mo
bilize the Consortium’s forces and bring them all back. That, or. . .” He paused, and then noted the shock on her face as she reacted to the unspoken threat.
“The Dissolution Protocol? You wouldn’t dare.”
Charles avoided her gaze. “It was created out of necessity. I don’t know why Dev would go rogue – but all the evidence points to that. So as of right now, he and his friends are enemies of the Consortium.”
Wade scrolled through the report and tapped the screen – leaving a fingerprint, much to Charles’s dismay. “All the cameras were out of action. But this description of the assailant with the gun outside? That sounds an awful lot like Christen Sandberg with Newton’s Arrow.”
“Indeed. I fear their run-in in Tokyo is the moment they may have joined forces. Devon has been acting peculiar since then.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Yet the facts indicate it is so.”
“And this second villain. Does the description sound familiar to you?”
Charles held her gaze for a long moment before giving a curt reply. “Kardach.”
Sergeant Wade gasped. “You told me—”
“What I told you was wrong.” Charles turned and headed for the door. “If you find out more, notify me immediately. They need to be stopped. There can be no safe haven for them.”
“Where are you going? Your nephew is out there somewhere, tied up in a business he doesn’t understand.”
“The Red Zone. Work does not stop.” Charles stepped through the door, then paused. He levelled his gaze at Wade. “And he’s not my nephew. He is my creation. You really need to put things in perspective, sergeant.”
Despite the shade, Dev was thankful for the cold drink. It was the third one he’d had in as many minutes; the Everfrost flask worked a treat. The sun blistered the ground around them, and the air was thick with heat and flies. The PhantomSuits had been oppressively hot, so he was relieved to be back in his jeans and T-shirt as he sat with Mason and Lot on the Avro’s tail ramp and studied the bleak landscape.
The moment he knew they were safely away from Tartarus, he had closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to focus on himself. The Collector had told Dev that he was been infected with a viral program to act as a homing beacon. Dev suspected that was how he had kept hearing the disembodied voice, transmitted from his own body.