by M. D. Hall
The voice spoke again. ‘It is time to leave,’ and with that pronouncement, the door slid open and they stepped into the corridor. Jon had only gone half a dozen steps when he became acutely aware that he was alone. Stopping, he turned around to see Emily standing where they had exited the room. Her face, impossible to read.
He walked back to where she stood. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ she replied, ‘it’s just that I'm going the other way.’
Being punched in the solar plexus would have paled against the impact of that simple statement. Her eyes were twinkling, mischievously, and it was clear she was enjoying herself. An explanation was called for. ‘I don’t know what that thing in there is,’ she motioned to the room they had just left, ‘but I'm not about to abandon a friend on the say so of something that won't even show itself.’
‘What you said about a suicide mission…’ he began.
She winked. ‘For the benefit of our invisible friend! Don’t get me wrong, it’s going to be dangerous, and you can't go. That much of what I said was true, you need to get to the President. If we traded places, I can't use the Artefact, and I don’t think you’d be too much use if there are things like force fields to be disabled. We need to split up.’
It made sense. ‘Why didn’t you say something in the room?’
‘Because, for all we know, that whatever it is might have prevented one of us from leaving, as insurance against the other going off to help Liz. We’ve no idea what its agenda is, and I wasn’t ready to take that risk, are you?
Jon resisted agreeing with his young friend.
‘Look,’ she continued, ‘it doesn't take two of us to get to the President, maybe this was what the Custodians intended for me. Anyway, they’re all going to be looking for you, so their eyes will be off the ball. I can get in and out, without them hardly knowing.’
He had always assumed he was the leader of their little group, but once again he was reminded that he was only there because of the Artefact. He put his hand on the young woman’s shoulder, and in his best big brother voice cautioned her. ‘Don’t take any insane risks. Get her out, if you can, but make sure you get yourself out. Then, either with or without Liz, make your way to the President.’
He continued looking at her until she replied by nodding her head, then gave him a hug - she was surprisingly strong - and now he definitely felt like her big brother. Without any further words she turned and hurried away down the corridor towards where Liz was held captive, she did not look back.
Ω
Gorn watched as Tala left the detention room. He was wrong, she was smarter than he had credited. No matter, the consequences would be the same. As for the Tellurian female, Corcoran, the short term solution was simple, not so her ultimate fate.
Δ
Three minutes after leaving Jon, Emily arrived at the room where Liz was being held. Just as she had been told, the signet ring caused the door to open, and the petite figure in dungarees entered the torture chamber. Immediately, she was struck by the ozone-like smell emanating from the centre of the room. Her eyes were drawn to the figure of Liz Corcoran, floating silently and serenely before her. Almost immediately, the scene changed to one of absolute horror, as the woman she met less than an hour ago, convulsed in agony, made all the more terrible by the complete lack of sound from her open mouth.
As she looked to her left she could see a heavily built man, dressed in blue coveralls and standing beside a console, he seemed confused.
The technician, seeing her enter the room had panicked and increased the pain output of the field, but in that moment of distraction, failed to notice the galvanised figure of the TeCorp CEO hurtling towards him. Emily watched as Hugo slammed into Liz's torturer with such force, the heavier man was knocked completely off his feet and propelled towards the imprisoned woman. He struck the invisible energy field, rebounded, and landed face down on the floor, where he lay, motionless. As the field was designed to increase its output in direct proportion to the force applied to it, Hugo’s earlier experience had left him only winded and dazed; the engineer, however, would remain unconscious for some considerable time.
Hugo became abruptly aware of a silence, previously missing, and realised he could no longer hear the barely perceptible hum, present only when the field was active. To test his hypothesis he approached the point where the unfortunate technician had struck the field, and held out his hand, nothing. As he walked towards her, Liz descended slowly to the floor, still unconscious.
Δ
Because Jon’s thoughts were on Emily, he failed to notice the teleport station to his left as he hurried on his way. Too late, he remembered and turning, saw his pursuers. They were a good way back, so he had ample time to get back to the teleport station, but what now unfolded before his eyes had to be impossible. The lead pursuer, seemingly no larger or fitter than the others, tore away from them at an unbelievable speed.
Everything happened so quickly that precious seconds ebbed away before he could galvanise himself into action. As those seconds passed, so did his chance to get to the teleport.
The voice he had heard earlier, spoke in its unhurried way, making the situation even more frightening. ‘Turn away, the door is not far ahead, run!’ He did as he was told and noticed, as he gained on the opening, the door sliding to a close. Managing to get through with some room to spare, he backed away and looked, through the gap, at his pursuer.
Transfixed to the spot, he watched the man, or whatever was capable of such speeds, draw closer to the door, which now seemed, perversely to be closing in slow motion. No longer convinced he was safe, he ran and heard a groan from behind. Unable to control himself he slowed and looked back. The super-fast Te’an had made it to the impossibly narrow opening, only to be caught between the door and its jamb.
Ω
Gorn overrode the safety protocol of the door, so instead of opening on the approach of Beron, as it was programmed to do, it continued to close. There would come a time when it would stop, and by then Beron would no longer be a threat to the Tellurian he pursued, or anyone else.
He could see the drama unfold through the Avatar’s control of the surveillance system. In his own case, great physical strength was a given, something he took for granted. He would have been impressed by the man’s prodigious effort, but for his knowledge that Beron had been augmented in anticipation of entry to the brigade of shock-troops.
Gorn was forced into the role of bystander, he had no control over power to the door, only whether the failsafe worked. It soon became clear that Beron would overcome the mechanism. Once through, the door would continue to close and permit no one else to pass. Unfortunately, for the hapless Tellurian, Beron alone would be more than enough to ensure his capture.
The Avatar scanned the complex. The only hope for Jonathon Tyler, lay with his diminutive female companion and Hugo Black, the unwitting architect of the dilemma now unfolding.
Ω
Helpless to do otherwise, the Avatar had lowered the Tellurian woman to the ground, then removed all restraints. It reactivated only that part of the field allowing it to monitor and, if necessary, manipulate the unconscious female’s life signs. Left to her own devices, she would remain unconscious for at least an hour. Its instructions were clear, this was not acceptable.
The impulses in her brain were adjusted so that, within three minutes, she would regain consciousness. Once she was awake the field would be deactivated and remain that way, unless all else failed.
Δ
The field started up again. To Hugo it was a barely perceptible tingling, which had stopped when he walked towards her. He looked around, the technician was still unconscious. Then, kneeling down, he felt the side of Liz’s neck for a pulse, it was there, steady and regular, she seemed to be sleeping. Turning to Emily, he smiled and nodded, signifying gratitude and confirmation that Liz would be fine.
Emily’s arrival had led to the technician being subdued, but neither she nor Hugo had
anything to do with the field’s deactivation. She thought about the disembodied voice and its claims, but did not have the time to tell Hugo. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I have to help Jon, he needs me…I’m glad Liz is ok.’
By the time he looked up, she was gone. He wondered what would happen now, but that was for Jon and Emily to sort out, he was no longer in the game.
Δ
Liz Corcoran stirred and opening her eyes, saw the man who was holding her. ‘Hugo, is it over?’
‘It is, for us,’ he replied.
She sat up with some difficulty and looked around, taking in the still form of the technician. ‘Is he dead?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘What happened?’
‘That can wait until you're feeling stronger.’
She shook her head. ‘Now, Hugo!’
He recounted everything from the moment she had been placed within the field. When he was finished, she looked at him angrily. ‘It isn't over! Jon and Emily are alone, out there against Tala and her goons, and we’re sitting here as though everything is going to be fine. It isn’t, they need our help!’
Hugo knew she was right, but she was unable to walk never mind run, and he did not want to leave her in that room, alone. With a strength that belied her condition, she gripped his arm. ‘We’re all in danger if Jon fails, you need to leave me here.’
‘We gave Jon and Emily our rings, I can't get to the signing room in time, unless,’ he looked at the prone technician, then shook his head. ‘Te’ans don’t need rings, they have implants.’
The voice of Gorn/Avatar spoke up. ‘Please do not be afraid. I wish to help you, I am a friend.’
‘Who are you?’ asked Hugo, looking around the room for the source of the voice.
‘As I have said, I am a friend who can help you get to Jon and Emily.’
‘How do we know we can trust you?’ asked Liz.
‘I have already had this conversation with your friends. You have to trust me, because you have no one else, and if you wait they will fail. If it helps, I deactivated the field.’
Hugo and Liz looked at each other, but exchanged no words. Hugo knew what he had to do. ‘How can you get me to the signing room in time?’ he asked.
‘The nearest teleport station has been unlocked and programmed to take you to the station closest to the signing room,’ Gorn/Avatar replied.
‘How are they?’ Liz asked.
‘Jon is running from Beron. I have prevented the other agents from reaching him. Emily is on course to intercept them. That is all I know.’
Liz nodded to Hugo. ‘Hurry!’
He ran from the room, the door closing behind him.
Ω
Once Hugo Black left the room, Gorn ensured that the Avatar locked the door, and gave it a standing instruction to reactivate the teleports only as Jon, Emily or Hugo needed them.
He was then called to the bridge, but before leaving his console he set the routine that would require only a single failsafe instruction, transmitted from his bridge station to the Avatar.
Δ
From his vantage point, Jon watched in mute fascination as the trapped man began, slowly at first, to reverse the movement of the door. The fascination turned to horror, as it dawned on him that the pursuit was far from over. He began to run again, he had to put as much distance between them as he could, before the chase continued.
Δ
Emily’s route would take her to where she anticipated Jon would be. He was unable to take a direct route to the President, the Te would expect that, but on the plus side, the teleport lockdown put his pursuers at a disadvantage. There was little she could do to help him, but at the very least, she could prove a distraction and give him enough time to complete the task Jane had set him.
Δ
Three floors above the atrium, Jon burst through the double doors from the stairwell. The sound of Beron pounding up the stairs only a floor below, thudded through his brain; he had to come up with something to slow the faster, stronger man.
The doors now closed, he removed his belt and looped it through the handles just as his pursuer crashed against the makeshift barrier. Convinced the doors would hold, he tied off the belt as Beron’s second assault caused the entire frame to shudder. He was stepping back when a third crash broke the doors off their hinges. Part of the tethered projectile smashed against his shoulder, as the force of the collision propelled him across the floor, onto his back.
Gingerly, he managed to stand as pain seared through his upper right arm, screaming of a dislocated shoulder.
Advancing slowly towards him, was the menacing figure of the Te’an agent, his face immobile, showing neither pleasure nor anger, simply an unswerving intent to ensnare his quarry. Without taking his eyes off Beron, he backed away, his shoulder on fire, not knowing how long he could remain conscious. Already, his head was beginning to swim. Endorphins flooded his body, shutting down the flight mechanism. Oblivious to the danger behind him, he edged towards the rail, beyond which there was nothing but air until the floor of the atrium, three levels below.
Ω
Watching his prey approach the rail, Beron slowed, and for the first time uncertainty crept into his face. His orders were clear, no harm was to come to the Tellurian, he was to be captured intact and held until the signing, any sudden movement and…
Δ
Moments earlier, Emily’s form had coalesced at a teleport station. Stepping off the platform, she heard a loud crash and turned to the source of the sound. Across the open space that was the atrium, she saw Jon struggling to hold back someone, or something on the other side of the stairwell doors. Whoever, or whatever was trying to get through was immensely strong. Without the belt he was using to secure the handles, it was clear Jon would be unable to resist the brute strength that was slamming into the wooden barrier.
There was another crash, only this time much louder as the doors themselves fell inwards. The belt remained firm, being stronger than the hinges supporting the doors. She could only watch as her friend was hurled across the floor, the huge wooden projectile smashing against his side. She heard him let out a cry of pain as he landed on his back.
Emily watched Jon, as he slowly and painfully hauled himself to his feet. It was then she saw the cause of her friend’s dilemma, a muscular, dangerous looking man, showing no ill effects from bursting through the doors, as he walked slowly and deliberately towards Jon. The absence of haste contradicted the urgency with which he had attacked the doors, making each step more ominous.
The reason the pursuer could take his time was obvious to her. Jon, holding his right arm against his body, was backing away from the advancing agent, seemingly unaware of his approach to the perimeter rail, he had nowhere to go. He was inching further away from the teleport station, and escape. The Te’an, on the other hand, knew that Jon had run out of options, as he also moved closer to the rail in the hope, no doubt, of intercepting the injured man.
She knew what she had to do, and timing would be critical. Within moments she was at the teleport station, her form dematerialising.
Δ
Each man, unaware of the presence of Emily, carefully eyed the other. Beron was closing on him when Jon saw, dashing across the floor from his right, the figure of his young friend. Beron followed the direction of Jon’s gaze and, in turning transferred, for just an instant, all his weight onto his right side. It was at this precise moment the tiny form of Emily collided with him. The combination of surprise and the young woman’s velocity sent the Te’an spinning, and as the small of his back struck the rail, the momentum of his body carried him over. As he began to fall the agent continued to turn, catching Emily’s side with an arm that may as well have been a club, The unintended blow sent the girl over the rail.
While all of this took only split seconds, it passed in slow motion to Jon. The pain in his arm forgotten, his attempts to reach his young friend were gripped in the same slow motion frame, so that as he moved f
orward, she moved away at the same speed.
As Emily was flung over the rail she shouted only one word. ‘Go!’ Her eyes showed no trace of fear, as the illusion of slow motion was replaced with real time, and she hurtled after Beron.
Jon reached the rail as the pair struck the floor. There was no noise and no blood, in fact they both looked uninjured, albeit absolutely still. The faint shoots of hope sprang up inside him, after all, he had heard of falls higher than this, where people got up and walked away. Feeding his hopes, Beron stirred and sat up, looking across to the still form of Emily. He stood, and walking over to her, crouched down taking one of her tiny wrists in his hand. After a few seconds his cold, emotionless eyes swept upwards until they locked on to the tragic eyes of Jon.
All hopes fled before the stark realisation that Emily was dead.
His face set as before, Beron swiftly made for the doors to the stairwell.
Δ
Without Emily, Jon was lost. He was running to the teleport, but part of him just wanted to give up and let the pain of losing his friend consume him. Where are you? How could you let it happen?
He approached the platform; any moment now his pursuer would repeat his earlier entrance and, this time, there would be no Emily to protect him. The sight of his young friend’s face replayed in his mind, silently mouthing that single word. If he remained, she would have died in vain - she would not have forgiven him for waiting as long as he had. The teleport, if their invisible helper was still in play, would get him to the second level, perhaps with enough time to reach the President. Well, what are you waiting for? she asked impatiently, except there was no Emily, only a remonstrating memory. As he moved towards the teleport, the pain in his shoulder and upper arm resurfaced, and was now moving downwards.
He stepped between the posts just as Beron came through the doorway. The last view Jon had of the agent was his cold, implacable expression, then it was gone and the second floor coalesced before him. If the teleport remained open for the agent, it was all over, but even if Beron was forced to traverse all the levels lying between them, it still left very little time.