“The Karatzin guards went that way." Tomar indicated the top of the main slanted shaft. “But our two fugitives went inside this tunnel." He secretly felt relieved at the thought that he wouldn’t have to deal with the Karatzin. Their poison could be fatal to Monacks as it neutralized all the cells of their body at the same time.
Gramps raised bushy eyebrows. “Which is the best way out?”
“Never mind that." Tomar snapped, angry at being questioned. “We are following Riggeur and his bitch into the smaller passage. Besides, I smell fire down below, and I don’t want to end up incinerated in this shaft." He didn’t mention his susceptibility to Karatzin poison, or his personal vendetta with Riggeur and the human female.
The members of his motley gang grumbled but none dared challenge him. The fact that fear motivated them didn’t bother Tomar a bit. He set out after the two guards. Their clean scent had changed since he’d met them. Now Riggeur smelled of blood and Alendresis of sweat.
Tomar wondered how far ahead they’d traveled, but he didn’t want to catch up with them too early. He wanted to enjoy an old-fashioned hunt, give them the illusion that they were safe, then when they least expected it, he would strike. And this time, they would talk and give him the codes, and their DNA would lead him all the way to the surface and off the prison planet of Zurin Five.
*****
Inside a maintenance conduit - Level Sixteen - Yellow Zone
The darkness around Rhonda choked her, as if someone had dropped a black lid upon her. She felt trapped. Her breathing, brought short by fear more than exertion, echoed in the tunnel. Would she ever see the light again? How stupid of her to let that robot take her light. Her race after the automaton had separated her from Cole, and now she had to go back and find him.
Although she opened her eyes wide, she saw only darkness as she clung to one wall of the tunnel, afraid that if she let go of it, she would be lost forever. Too bad it was too wide to touch both walls at once. How she hated dark spaces.
A faint rustle ahead made her shiver. Could there be lurking rodents? Or big Juzzaar who could see even in the darkest pit? “Cole?”
Despite the fact that she knew no obstacles lay in her path, she progressed slowly along the wall. Each feeling step cost her a dose of precious courage. How long would she last without panicking? Making her way back to the Captain seemed like a long painful trek. Breathe! she had to remind herself, and she made an effort to take slow deep breaths.
That rustle, again, then a moan. She felt somewhat relieved when she realized that the rustle came from Cole’s labored wheezing. She had to get him out of here, and fast. When she neared the sound, she poked the blackness with her foot and connected with Cole’s body. Stooping, she touched him carefully to determine his position, then she braced herself to help him up.
“Can you hear me?”
Cole groaned in response.
“We have to move. Don’t worry, you are not blind. It’s just that we have no light." She wished her reassuring words could ease her own foreboding.
But Rhonda took heart in the fact that she was no longer alone. She’d found Cole, and although she knew he could not help in case of attack, she found comfort in his presence. Guiding herself by following the conduit wall, she started in the direction of the maintenance platform. Cole still moved his feet, as if determined to follow her as best he could. She felt grateful for his will to survive. He hadn’t given up and sustained his effort despite the pain he must feel.
How would Rhonda find the branching conduit in the dark? She should navigate by touch but couldn’t do that while supporting Cole. When had she started to call him Cole? She wondered when he had become so familiar that she would use his first name. She liked it and decided to call him Cole from now on, at least in her mind.
Rhonda heard the rumble grow from a quiet purr to a low thundering roar that shook the tunnel. Her best effort to keep her balance failed, and she stumbled, falling with Cole to the passage floor.
“Are you okay?" What a stupid question.
Cole grunted. A good sign.
Not daring to move, Rhonda remained sitting until the tremor ceased. Had she turned around in the fall? Unlike the previous mineshaft, the maintenance tunnels lay perfectly level, so she had no reference as to which way to go. If she set out in the wrong direction, she would never see the light again, and she would die with Cole in the dark.
If only she had the tiniest shred of light. Remembering the compad clipped at her belt, she turned it on. At least, she could tell from it whether or not she was followed. No red dots showed around the two blue dots representing Cole and herself, just outside the north wall of the complex. Not designed for human circulation, the maintenance conduits did not register on the floor plan. But she could see where the maintenance platform lay, and she would direct her steps towards it.
The illumination from the compad screen showed her a short segment of the tunnel. Light! Faint, but with eyes now accustomed to the darkness, she could see both walls of the yellow cylindrical passage. At least, she would recognize the next branching when she came upon it.
A glimmer of hope gave her new energy to pick up Cole and hurry her pace in what she knew to be the right direction. When they reached the intersection with the tunnel leading to the maintenance platform, Rhonda found new confidence. Soon, she saw a faint glow ahead and rejoiced at the prospect of light, no matter how dim.
The glow, at first diffuse, soon filled the tunnel, then Rhonda and her charge emerged onto a maintenance platform, very similar to the one on Level Nineteen, with all the robots, modules, and spare parts painted a bright yellow. When Rhonda eased Cole against the wall, she noticed his bandage soaked with blood and wished she could change it, but she had none left.
Time to implement the idea that had brushed her mind in the mining shaft. If she couldn’t find a wagon to carry Cole, she’d have to make one. So she focused on the robots aligned on the wall. Although electronics wasn’t her specialty, she could probably rewire one to use as a carrier.
To combat fatigue, Rhonda forced down an energy bar as she set about dismantling one of the speedy robots. In her hurry, she shocked herself and jumped at the strong electric discharge. Sparks buzzed and a burnt smell told her she’d fried the little monster. She’d gone about it the wrong way.
Selecting a new robot, she started again, but this time she switched it off before removing its parts, and things went smoothly. Devoid of arms and sensor head, the vehicle looked like a simple caterpillar engine. Perfect. Now, she needed a cradle large enough to carry Cole, and something to steer and control the powerful electric engine.
A half cylinder section about two meters long would provide a bed for Cole. She clamped it on top of the caterpillar mechanism, glad for the simple modular parts that allowed many kinds of combinations. But she also needed a step to stand or kneel on the machine herself. Rhonda had found out when she lost her light that she couldn’t run at the robot’s speed. Besides, she intended to operate on Cole as soon as they reached the surgery ward, and she would need all her strength then.
As she foraged on the maintenance platform, Rhonda thought she heard sounds coming from the tunnel. She checked her compad but did not detect any guards or inmates coming toward her. She approached the dark entrance and listened intently but heard nothing more. Probably some robots, but she’d swear she heard faint echoes, like faraway voices.
When she found a flat metal bar, she clamped it as best she could to the robot’s frame on the back of the caterpillar. Unfortunately, as soon as she stepped upon it, it fell off. She threw it down in frustration and went searching into the large yellow bin full of broken parts.
Finally, she came upon a short metal plate. Its shape looked like it would accept the modular clamps and it did. When she tested its strength it remained secure. That would do, but at such speed, she needed to hang onto something for balance.
When she checked on Cole, he looked deathly pale.
He
acknowledged her with a strained smile. “I’m still alive,” he wheezed between uneven breaths.
Rhonda must hurry.
With a robotic arm as a steering column and an on-off button, the contraption would serve its purpose. One problem remained, Rhonda would have no control over the speed, and these automatons ran fast.
When she turned on the engine, Rhonda realized the robot emitted loud clicking noises that would alert the inmates loose in the wards. If they spotted her, or if she got stuck or broke down on the way to the infirmary, she would become a choice target. Nothing she could do about that. A calculated risk.
Was it faint whispers she heard again, or did her mind play tricks on her? Robots did not speak, but voices could carry far into the tunnels. Maybe inmates’ voices filtered through the broken ductwork on the ceiling and echoed inside the maintenance tunnels.
She had to leave now.
It wouldn’t do to spill Cole overboard going down the clumsy stairs leading to the main level. She led the contraption down the metallic stairs empty. Because of the unwieldy length of the cradle, the robot did not maneuver very well. After getting stuck twice, requiring shoving and pushing on Rhonda’s part, the automaton reached the bottom of the stairs without breaking up. A small victory.
Rhonda then helped Cole down the steps and laid him inside the half pipe cradle. She feared he’d lost too much blood and may not last long enough to reach the surgery ward in time. The thought prompted her to unlock the yellow maintenance door, but she stopped her hand short of the screening pad.
She consulted her compad. Certain that no one stood on the other side of the door, she studied the floor plan and laid her course through the least populated areas on Level Sixteen, the Yellow Zone. According to the layout, she had to travel four kilometers of corridors, and despite the advantage of speed, she shivered at the thought of encountering gangs of psychotic convicts.
The route she chose would cross a few lightly populated blocks, but she couldn’t delay Cole anymore and had to take chances. Another calculated risk, as Cole would say. From the increasing paleness of his skin and his feverish look, he had to be in surgery within the next hour, or he would certainly die. Rhonda couldn’t afford to take any detour.
She checked that both Cole’s phaser and hers adorned her belt, along with his curved blade then she checked the daggers in her boots. Gathering her confidence, she applied her hand to the scanner. When the door opened, she stepped onto the small platform at the back of the caterpillar.
“Hang on, Captain." She saw his hands gripping the sides of the cradle and she flipped the switch. The modified robot took off in a clicking fury and Rhonda clenched the steering arm with sweaty palms. Behind her the door closed automatically.
Rhonda had to call upon all her balance skills to remain on the speeding machine. The robot could recognize and avoid solid objects, like walls and fences, but Rhonda had reservations about its ability to take sharp turns at such speed. No matter, she had to try. The first turn threatened to dump Cole over the side of his cradle as the automaton nearly lost its traction on the floor.
The cells on each side of the corridor zipped by, and Rhonda could hardly follow the two speeding blue dots on her com pad, even less keep track of the many turns she must take. Suddenly, she realized she had missed a turn. She was heading straight for a swarm of convicts. She didn’t have time to think and instinctively took the first turn to avoid them, but the automaton stopped of its own accord in front of a dead end wall.
“Good Heavens!" She doubled back, hoping to find her initial route, but the compad now showed that path infested with convicts. They converged toward her from several directions. They’d probably heard the noisy vehicle and hoped for some ungodly distraction, or to seize a device that could help them escape. What now?
Choosing the least crowded path, Rhonda set a collision course through the smallest gang she could see on her compad. Would they have the good sense to get out of the way of the speeding robot? She couldn’t trust these derelicts to think sanely. As she turned the corner, she saw them, fifty meters ahead.
Her blood felt cold as it rushed through her veins. These convicts wore red overalls. They came from Level Nineteen. Level Nineteen? She shuddered at the implications. The lockdown had been compromised and the inmates now mixed at several levels. These dangerous criminals didn’t seem intimidated by the speeding machine. At least, they all looked human. Rhonda could fight humans.
Pulling out both phasers, she shot several rounds as she sped toward them. Two men fell under her phase beams. She wedged her feet against the sides of her step for balance and kept shooting. Three more convicts fell, but still four waited for her, determination on their faces.
As she came upon them, Rhonda crouched on her step platform and braced herself for impact, holding onto the cradle. She mumbled a prayer. “St. Michael, patron saint of prison guards, give me the strength.”
Upon impact, one man flew off the front of the speeding vehicle. Fortunately, the automaton kept going. But two inmates now clung to the sides of the cradle and rode with it. One of them tried to climb into it. Rhonda couldn’t shoot for fear of killing Cole.
Holding on to the steering column as an anchor, she kicked the man who now stood up on the cradle. Rhonda saw the Captain’s foot go up and kick the man between the legs. The convict screamed, teetered, then went tumbling overboard and fell to the side. His head smashed against one of the square pillars with a hollow smack.
The last convict dragging to the side of the vehicle slid towards the back and grabbed Rhonda’s ankle. His face frozen in a demented grimace, he drooled on his red overalls. Rhonda felt the strong grip bruising her ankle as if she had stepped into a bear trap. She struggled to free herself but failed. She couldn’t shoot the man while he held her.
In desperation, Rhonda buttressed herself against the steering column and kicked his arm with her free foot as hard and as fast as she could. The man still held on, even as his body dragged behind the machine on the smooth yellow floor.
Crouching, Rhonda pulled out one of the daggers hidden in her boots and stabbed the man’s wrist, aiming to slice the tendons that controlled his fingers. The convict yelled and finally let go of her ankle, slid to the yellow floor and receded quickly. But the blade remained stuck in his hand. Rhonda loathed letting the weapon go, but it had saved her life. Rising, she checked on Cole, who offered a strained smile. He still held on to the sides of the cradle, his eyes following her movements. “Glad you can see, Captain. It’s a good sign.”
When she consulted her compad, Rhonda realized that the robot had wandered off course through the corridors, sensing the walls and going around them. She corrected her course toward the surgical ward. But as she moved closer, she could see the red dots of several inmates loitering in front of the infirmary door. They didn’t seem in any hurry to leave. Rhonda needed a distraction.
Setting one phaser on explode, she sent a blast to one end of the corridor where the inmates could see and hear it. Immediately, the red dots representing the inmates started moving in that direction. Now Rhonda sped in the opposite direction along a parallel corridor, toward the infirmary, hoping she would have time to get inside before the convicts returned.
When she reached the door, she came to an abrupt stop that almost sent Cole over the side of the cradle, but he still held on. Feverishly, Rhonda applied her palm to the scanner. The infirmary door opened. She drove the robot inside then stopped. The door closed just as the convicts, probably alerted by the noise of the robot, rushed back toward the infirmary.
But Rhonda was safe at last. To make absolutely sure she wouldn’t be interrupted, she disabled the door from the inside by applying Cole’s hand on one scanner while she stretched to touch the other side of the frame with her fingers. Then she entered her secret code. That door wouldn’t open until two guards with her personal code reactivated it.
The thought that Cole might not survive the surgery crossed her mind and
Rhonda shuddered. Without his live DNA, she would be locked inside the infirmary with no way of getting out. But she couldn’t think that way. She had to believe she could save Cole. She must.
Rhonda leaned against the door and released a long breath. At least, she would have some peace to perform the delicate surgery. The temperature in the medical ward felt much cooler than on the cell blocks. The environmental controls worked independently. She realized how much she had missed the feeling of safety and she savored the luxury of this temporary refuge. A slight tremor shook the surgical ward, reminding her that the planet had other plans, but she let her body relax for a few seconds.
Cole, however, couldn’t wait. The vast surgical ward, equipped with the latest technology, operated largely through an automated system controlled by an independent A.I. Rhonda cleared her voice and announced clearly to the medical A.I. “Prepare new patient for upper right chest microsurgery." The surgical ward figured among the highest priority areas and had its own emergency power supply. Rhonda desperately needed the machines to work and hoped the depleted power grid would provide enough energy.
When four spider-like robots came to meet her strange vehicle, Rhonda dared to hope the equipment still functioned. Obviously undeterred by Rhonda’s unorthodox Gurney, the many robotic arms and fingers slid under Cole Riggeur, lifted him, and carried him to the surgery room where Rhonda followed them in. When the robots laid Cole gently upon the operating table, the bright lights came on and the screens lit up.
Rhonda pulled away the top part of Cole’s uniform and peeled off the ripped undershirt. Blood had saturated the emergency pack.
Cole moaned when she removed it.
“Hang in there, Captain. Don’t die on me now." Driven by the need to save his life, Rhonda applied a tourniquet, sterilized his arm with a swab then plugged an IV into his largest vein. After releasing the tourniquet, she injected the drug that would induce painless sleep, Styx, of all things, in the only form Rhonda found acceptable, for medical use. Cole also needed a blood transfusion. “What’s Captain Cole Riggeur’s blood type?”
Alien Lockdown Page 11