Shadow Over Avalon

by C. N Lesley

  “I need to piss, and the bucket isn’t going to grow legs to walk over here.”

  “Wait a moment. I have instructions to free you when this need came.” Ambrose approached to unwrap the bandages.

  A fine metal rod lay at the end of flexible tubing and stuck into the top of Arthur’s hand.

  “This will hurt. Hold still.”

  Ambrose pulled, causing a dull pain.

  A bruised area colored Arthur’s hand. He flexed it, feeling soreness. “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Do you need help walking?”

  “I’d like to try by myself first.” Arthur started up with legs like wet seaweed, yet he could walk. Once he reached his bed again, he tackled another urgent problem.

  “When do we get fed?”

  “Right now.” Ambrose hooked a box from under his bed to pass Arthur high-energy field rations. He selected standard fare for himself.

  “Ambrose, I’m seer-trained. Once I have my strength back, I going to try to escape. Why give me the means?”

  “I haven’t.” Ambrose frowned. “There’s a high-pitched sonic device directed into this room to prevent concentration of will. I know. I’ve tried levitation. I thought I’d get out easily, since none knew I have this ability, until now. I couldn’t raise myself a fraction. Try, by all means.” He looked at Arthur. “Maybe you have enough will to overcome it.”

  Energy intake revitalized him. Arthur settled into a meditation posture to focus his will. Remembering the difficulties of his first experience in levitation, he disciplined his mind to exactitude. He began to rise.

  Pain. Red, blinding pain exploded in his head. He became aware of the floor when he hit it. The agony stopped at that instant. Arthur nursed his bruises for a few moments then resumed his original posture.

  “Ambrose, if I got to that panel before the counterstrike, I could get it open, at least. The next attempt might see me through. A sonic emitter of such strength must be close to us for maximum effect. I could disable it once I’m free. Together we have a chance of winning clear.”

  “Yes, your plan could work if we linked, and then what? Where will you go? Even if you escape to the surface, you haven’t the experience to survive alone.”

  Arthur lay down, staring with sightless intensity at the ceiling. He wondered why Ambrose didn’t want to escape with him, though the man admitted trying while Arthur was unconscious. His supreme commander seemed to agree with his confinement.

  Closing his eyes, Arthur attempted to recall his last conscious memory before waking up in this prison. The images did not make sense, as he’d seen both Shadow and Copper. More than this, Shadow looked vibrant with life, in contradiction to the last image of her on Sanctuary personnel files. There her face was devoid of expression, with blank eyes staring through what could have been a wall. That five-year-old picture continued to haunt him.

  The last answer he’d given to the cave-sitter fell short of the truth. Immersion in Shadow’s life gave him an escape from his own grim existence. He was caught up in her struggle to get her life back and find justice. Each time she seemed to make progress, fate dealt her another blow and that offended his sense of fairness. Leaving his review of her at the time she surrendered to her feelings for Copper had made him forget what had happened ten years afterward; Copper’s sudden death was the reason for the lifeless image of her.

  Given hindsight, Arthur accepted that she had lived ten happy years, but this didn’t seem enough to him, not with her life before this time. Her face in the picture told him that she lived as an original Outcast, with no values or emotions, other than the hunt. She no longer cared whether she lived, and hadn’t since Copper’s death. Her occasional visits to Avalon since that time were a furtive slinking to get the technology she needed for continued function.

  His last recollection had to be a hallucination, or was it? The Archive told him that Shadow and her son returned to Avalon. What if his pain and exhaustion played tricks with his eyes? What if he had seen her and superimposed his last image of her and her companion?

  A slight tingling sensation warned him. He tensed his mental barriers in a reflex action against a probe. Arthur opened his eyes to look at Ambrose, letting amusement show in the upward tilt of his lips.

  “Sorry, boy.” Ambrose shrugged as he withdrew his mental touch. “I am supposed to make certain you don’t make any desperate choices. They want you alive.”

  “Who is ‘they’?” Arthur kept his smile fixed as if he did not understand the implications of Ambrose’s admission. Whoever held him knew he could shut down his life. That meant they needed to have a quorum of gifted seers on hand to override him if he started this action. A cold, hard lump developed in his chest as his worst nightmares returned to mock him. What if seers intend to force breeding viability by keeping him prisoner until he surrendered? Arthur’s smile died while he fought to keep his breathing normal. Whatever ‘they’ planned, he did not intend to let them see his fear.

  “They will make themselves known to you when they are ready.”

  “You’re afraid of them?” Arthur found it hard to believe anything could frighten a man he’d witnessed standing up to Evegena, yet Ambrose had a tightening of skin around his eyes.

  “I’m here against my will, aren’t I? I’m rated as psi ten, not easy to control, yet I’m a prisoner. I have strict instructions regarding you. They need you safe to protect Morgan while she matures, and that’s probably saying too much. It’ll be Haven or another Brethren place.”

  “Ector’s Morgan?” Arthur used a casual tone as if he didn’t really care. Every sense came to full alert.

  “Why didn’t you come to me when you needed help?” Ambrose countered.

  Arthur smiled as he savored the point he had just scored. His commander confirmed the needed answer by body language. So, Ambrose believed Morgan to be central to whatever plots the man thought he’d interrupted. Why Morgan? Barracks rumored that the child resulted from a liaison between Ector and one of the Brethren women. The child had actually scored zero on a psi rating, as well as having a much finer skin than normal for a Submariner child, substantiating hearsay. But Ambrose held personal friendship with Ector. Making Ambrose think Morgan taken by Brethren could be enough to guarantee his good behavior. Why target Ector, though? Why would Brethren need a lever against him?

  Despite Ambrose’s belief that the prison belonged to Brethren, Arthur disagreed. Every item they made screamed of transience, being safe, mostly finished and secure, but little else. He wondered if this was the story given to Ambrose after the man blundered into a trap.

  “Arthur . . . why not wait until you see who your captors are before you make any plans?”

  “Every day someone might die because you sent him to a particular place. Am I expected to believe I’m suddenly indispensable?” Arthur said, sure now of Ambrose being planted as a spy.

  “Thank you. We have heard enough,” a woman’s voice announced from a concealed speaker. “Ambrose, you are free to join us.” The roof panel slid to one side at her words.

  “What about me?” Arthur demanded.

  “I will deal with you presently. Make no attempt to rise with Ambrose. Our sonic device is selective,” the same cool voice ordered.

  Arthur watched in sick frustration as Ambrose disappeared into the opening and the panel slid shut. Without a companion to complicate procedures, he could imagine various kinds of incentives to good behavior. How did the woman intend to deal with him?

  Chapter 30

  Earth Date 3893

  Silence hung in heavy waves. Even in Sanctuary, the distant throb of machinery integrated into subconscious hearing, unlike this place. Arthur started a systematic search of his cell just to create noise. Somehow, the walls didn’t close in on him to such an extent now that he had a purpose. As he emptied a bookshelf, Arthur fought an inner battle to prevent any trace of panic betraying him through body language. He enacted inner chemical changes to counteract adrenaline surges
while he ran his fingertips along a retaining bracket. Still the silence crushed inwards.

  What if this cell remained his home for the rest of his life? Arthur squashed that thought too late. He imagined his will to resist weakening over the many years of life granted to any with the longevity gene. He slammed his fist into the wall, welcoming pain as a sensation he could use to focus his consciousness. Easing down to sit cross-legged, he concentrated his awareness on his own heartbeats.

  Absence of sound meant isolation, but for whom and from what? On the one hand, the Archive and/or the cave sitter desired his death, while on the other hand, seers needed his genome for their breeding program. He reasoned seers as the likely captors because they had the resources for a cell of silence. Arthur projected his mind in a random sweep to test his theory. His thought paths met a wall of nothingness.

  The sound of metal sliding startled him. Arthur jumped to the side of his prison as a hatchway opened in the ceiling.

  “You may ascend now,” the woman’s voice informed him. “We are ready for you.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that, and he couldn’t see the face behind the voice from the dark opening, although it was very familiar.

  “Your cell has a continuous supply of water and enough food for three days,” the woman said. “It will take you around nine weeks to starve to death, and we will not permit you a faster alternative. Please don’t be tiresome.”

  Arthur decided to wait her out.

  “Boy, we don’t have time for games. Either you will comply, or I will remove your consciousness and retrieve you in the same manner as I installed you.”

  An edge of irritation toned the unseen woman’s voice. Arthur didn’t doubt she intended to carry out her threat. He concentrated even while he stood up. The rush of energy made his skin tingle as he ascended.

  He stepped onto firm flooring in the room above to find a slim blonde woman sitting with her back to him, operating controls to close the hatch. There was a camp bed against one wall and a box with metal handles. He permitted himself a slow smile when he noted the absence of others. Did ‘they’ think an enraged acolyte seer of his capabilities would not react? He projected waves of extreme fatigue at the slight figure.

  “I think we will need to instruct you in the nicety of manners,” the woman remarked in an alert fashion. “Behave yourself.”

  An incredible sensation of thirst hit his unprepared stomach like a fist. Arthur withdrew his attack to concentrate on defense. The woman turned . . . he looked into Shadow’s deep violet eyes. Shock rendered him speechless. She hadn’t aged a day from the hologram picture of her the Archive showed him.

  “Did you want to try that again?” she suggested, her voice soft and sweet, even as her eyes bored into his.

  “I think I’ll pass.” Arthur tried to match her nonchalance.

  “Good. A trace of maturity at last.” She stood, somehow still managing to stare him down from her lesser height.

  “Why am I here?”

  “Because you came to us.” Shadow squared her shoulders. “Who sent you? What can you offer as reason for seeking us out?”

  “As I recall,” Arthur drawled, proud of himself when his voice came out even and modulated, “at the time, I was too busy dying to have any plan.”

  “Addiction to full sensory playback is almost always fatal.” Shadow’s voice cracked around his shoulders like a whip. “Did the Archive promise you more ‘fixes’ for betraying us?”

  Cold shock trickled down his spine. “I made a bad choice by trusting the Archive. It wanted my death, although I can’t guess why.”

  “Then you have a hard decision to face.” She smiled the sad Brethren smile, her hand straying to the hilt of her belt knife. “I cannot permit you to leave this room alive without surety of your intentions. Open your mind to me.”

  Arthur took half a step back, looking around for escape.

  “Trust comes hard after betrayal, doesn’t it? Since you chose to study my life, then you know me as no other can. End this, boy. Prove to me you are no threat.”

  Her projected thought patterns pushed against his mind. He wanted to prove his innocence because he admired her, and she had the strength to kill him. Arthur released his guard to give her access. Her presence seemed as a warm onrush while she delved into his conscious thoughts, not the cold carving probe he had expected.

  Disturbed by her probing, he backed off a step. “Satisfied?”

  “I think I would have enjoyed being a bug watching from a crack when Evegena realized she had lost you.” Shadow’s slow smile reached her eyes this time. “Making a fool of the Archive is a more serious consideration. It will not be content until it has some bones to gloat over.”

  “So what are my options?” Arthur sensed approval from her body language.

  “That depends on whether you think you can block the Archive from your mind.” Shadow reached out to take his hand. “The capability is there, but is the strength enough in your weakened state?”

  Arthur thought through the problem. Shadow matched his strength in their recent contact. Perhaps she had the psi power to test his limits if he made the challenge harder on himself. “I am going to remove myself from your sight in a few moments. You know from my thought patterns that I did this to evade seers, and how I did it. They didn’t have the luxury of the warning I am giving to you.”

  “Encouraging.” Shadow released his hand. “Proceed.”

  Arthur began building multiple images of himself. He released them at the same moment as he blocked her sight from his real location, and then he moved to create another image in the same space his corporeal body previously occupied while he took up a position behind her. He felt the hard thrusts of her mind as she attempted to find him. She reached out to an image to the right of his original position.

  “Satisfied?” Arthur queried, enjoying her sudden reflex as she spun to face the sound of his voice. He let his other selves disintegrate.

  “Impressive.” Shadow frowned, moving over to the control panel again. “Why didn’t you use this technique to evade me when you ascended?”

  “I guess I am not that comfortable in small spaces,” Arthur admitted, feeling more at ease in her company.

  “You didn’t think the options through,” Shadow guessed, picking up on his thoughts. “Now we have an alternative.”

  She pressed another button on the control console. A similar ceiling aperture opened in this room to let a counterbalanced ladder slide down. Arthur followed her up into a room identical to the cell he had just vacated. The logic of such an arrangement shook him to the core. Who would think of looking for a second bolt-hole on discovery of the first? Again they ascended via ladder to a room Arthur recognized as Ector’s atrium. The table that normally stood over the trapdoor now rested to one side. He followed to the study and went to the seat she indicated at his commander’s console. Arthur began to wonder what she intended, and why Ector wasn’t in sight.

  “You have a right to know our plans,” she told him. “We are going to investigate the passages underneath Sanctuary—the dark zone.”

  A sudden sensation of threat at the thought of them going into the dark zone closed around Arthur. His mind twisted into higher awareness, evaluating endless possibilities in a split second that lasted an eternity. The answers came to him when his personal timeframe returned.

  “This is not a good choice. The Archive knows of your plans.” He knew this for a fact that he couldn’t explain.

  Shadow’s face drained of all emotion. Her body relaxed in the controlled calm of Brethren before battle.

  “In answer to your next question, I haven’t betrayed you.” Arthur’s own muscles slid into alert. “I wasn’t aware of your intentions until a few moments gone.”

  “Mind raid.” Shadow hissed through her teeth. “Boy? Have I misjudged you?” Her hand went to her belt knife while her pupils expanded.

  “Applied logic, not thought theft.” He kept his tone even and l
ow. “You are aware of whose records I reviewed. In the process of research, I picked up something not intended for general circulation. The Archive can access any comm-link, at any distance, without leaving a trace. I learned to detect invasion. Maybe that is why it wanted me dead in an apparent accident of my own making.” The wings of death came closer, yet he couldn’t stop himself. “Remember the thoughts you picked from my mind. That last playback? How did I know what Copper felt? You knew him. Would he have downloaded into Archives by his own volition?”

  “He would have cut off his head first.”

  “Copper had an implant,” he said. “Who else on your team sports such?”

  “Point taken.” Shadow’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “The Archive picks through thoughts from those with implants.” She made it a statement rather than a question. “You are your father’s son. He could cut through countless trivialities to come to the heart of a problem.”

  “My father?” Arthur’s heart pounded.

  “Look into the console,” Shadow ordered, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Her reasoning seemed clear to him. She needed a barter chip to buy her way out of trouble, and he was it. “I think you’ll find my exchange value has been grossly overrated,” Arthur observed, turning to position in the station. She needed to trade, or at least attempt to trade, to gain an escape route for her team. He imagined she might offer herself along with him. Arthur’s stomach clenched. He reached for the activation control.

  “No.”

  Arthur’s hand froze on Shadow’s command. He started to turn to her.

  “Look into the screen,” she said.

  Arthur stared at his own reflection in the blank surface. He could see her standing behind him in her black Brethren battle gear, just out of range if he had any thoughts of attack.

  “Study your face. You are very like him in his youth.”

  Arthur did as she requested. He guessed she meant his father must have been active around the time of her first entry into Avalon.