by David Gill
The screen went blank. Jenna stood before the monitor and desperately tried to figure out what to do. Had Carrick really captured Brant, or was he preparing a trap? But unless Brant made contact she had no way of knowing. She felt sick with despair. There were now two desperate people inside the machine trying to escape and two people outside equally determined to stay out. Jenna could no longer think clearly. She was about to lose Brant for good. Her friend was depending on her for help, but what could she do with only a lance and a handful of detonators to defend herself with?
If there ever was a lowest point in her short lifetime, Jenna decided, she had just found it. She sat with her head buried in her hands, unable to act and incapable of reaching a decision. There was nothing for it, she had to trust Ellen and take Carrick's place inside the machine - it was her only chance to be with Brant again, and his only hope of survival. She had to cast aside her doubts and throw herself on Ellen's mercy before she cracked under the relentless pressure.
The events and pressures of the past days had exhausted Jenna and she knew that she could not carry on, so it was with a feeling of immense relief that she decided to go to Ellen and put an end to her suffering. Having made the decision, she then recalled how she had felt on finding Brant alive and realised how much she was counting on their being together again. At the thought of his suffering at Carrick's hands a terrible anger took hold of her, an intensity of feeling she had never experienced before. Why was she giving up on him? They had taken Vance, who surely must be dead, and now they wanted to take her as well. Carrick had no right to her body - no way. Brant was worth a hundred of the likes of Carrick and Jenna was the only person he could call on for help; she could not let him down now, not when he was relying on her so much.
Jenna had reached the stage where she no longer cared whether she lived or died, and there and then made up her mind that she was going to attempt to release Brant from the machine, whatever the cost. Could she overcome Ellen? Brant's face flashed before her eyes and made the rage tighten its grip. There was little left in Jenna's life worth staying alive for; she would force Ellen back inside the machine or die. There was nothing to lose and everything to gain. Could she do anything with the impulse detonators? Brant had told her that using them near an electric current increased the reaction. Would it be enough to destroy a Phasewave processor? What if they went off against a sub-drive? Jenna got to her feet and looked at herself in the mirror. A new determination had strengthened her features, and the familiar stubborn set had returned to her chin. It was in a mood of defiance that Jenna left her room and made her way to Brant's cabin to collect the detonators. The war was nearly over, now was the time to fight the deciding battle!
Ellen entered Unit Nine and walked towards the communications monitor. She had almost reached it when an unmistakable sound broke the silence, and she turned to find herself staring into the spitting flame of a thermic lance. Her gaze followed the shaft of the lance until she was looking into Jenna's drawn, white face.
'So, the kitten has claws.' Ellen's expression turned sour. 'Aren't you out of your depth? Those things are for grown-ups. Put it down before you hurt yourself.'
'Get inside that machine!' Jenna shouted.
'Do you seriously intend to use that lance on me?' Ellen angrily demanded. She walked menacingly towards Jenna. 'Have you any idea what you're taking on? Go ahead, do it, try to force me. Let's see if you've got the guts to go the whole way.'
Jenna started to shake, causing the lance to make bright circles in the air with its flame.
Ellen let out a coarse, braying peal of laughter. She held out her hand. 'Do you need any help? Perhaps you'd like me to hold it steady for you. Jenna, there's something you haven't quite grasped - I stopped listening to idiots like you a long time ago. What makes you think you can tell me what to do?'
The lance remained quivering in Jenna's grip while Ellen stood with a face of stone and confronted the flame until Jenna was forced to break eye contact and look away, humiliated. Then Ellen turned round and casually strolled back to the control console. 'You worry me. The thought of you playing around with that lance makes me nervous. Think of the damage you could cause.'
Jenna was dismayed to find that her plan had not worked. She had to do something, anything, to regain the initiative. Jenna suddenly rushed forward and waved the lance across Ellen's back and watched her fall to the floor clutching her burnt shoulder.
'Get inside that machine or I'll destroy us all!' Jenna pointed the lance at Ellen's face.
Ellen's eyes narrowed into vicious slits. 'You're going to destroy us all?' She scrambled to her feet and rubbed the scorched patch on the back of her uniform. 'Exactly how do you intend to go about that with a thermic lance?' Ellen burst into harsh laughter again, but fell silent when Jenna pulled the detonator controller from her waistband and clutched it in an unsteady grip.
'The whole unit is plastered with detonators, and I'm never going into that machine. Unless you go back inside I'm going to blow us all up. This is your last chance to save Carrick. Do what I say and I give you my word that I will do everything I can to get you both out, even if it means going to Vennica and tracking down the alien myself.'
'I give you my word,' mimicked Ellen in a take-off of Jenna's quavering voice. 'You couldn't swat a fly, let alone blow up a Phasewave unit. Make no mistake, you're going to end up inside that Phasewave whether you like it or not. One way or another.'
Nothing was working out the way Jenna had anticipated. The threat of the detonators had not worked either, and she did not know what to do next. Then the monitor burst into life and Carrick's face appeared on the screen.
'Do what Ellen says, Jenna,' said Carrick. 'Get inside the machine or say goodbye to Brant.'
'I'll never go inside that machine,' cried Jenna. She held the controller above her head. 'This is your last chance.'
'Take my advice,' said Ellen, 'and never start anything you can't finish. You're not capable of pressing that button.'
Carrick's face fell when he saw what Jenna was holding. 'For God's sake, Ellen,' he warned, 'if those detonators go off the whole unit will go up.'
'Relax,' said Ellen, 'she's not going to do anything.'
'That's enough!' Jenna shouted, almost dropping the controller as she applied pressure to the trigger. 'Die, both of you!'
'Don't let her do it!' screamed Carrick.
Ellen looked at Carrick as if he was insane. 'What's got into you? Jenna's not going to blow up anything. She can't force me into that machine; all I have to do is wait out here until she comes to her senses and changes her mind.'
The monitor suddenly flickered and the screen went blank. The two women both stared at it, both wondering what had happened. Then a series of flashes crossed the screen, which flared back to life revealing a different face. It was Brant.
'I've overcome Carrick,' said Brant. 'Ellen, if you don't come back inside the machine I'm going to make sure that you never meet Carrick again. Think very hard before you make your next decision.'
Ellen appeared to be momentarily stunned. Her face took on a hunted, guarded expression. Jenna raised the lance again and advanced towards her, inspired by the unexpected reversal of Brant's fortunes.
'Brant is safe and is going to terminate your worthless partner,' she said. 'I don't have to blow this place up to get what I want; I can kill you right now with this lance and get Brant out later when the next crew arrives.'
Ellen backed away, her face a dark mask of frustration and rage. Then she stopped and held her ground. 'You're not getting away with this.'
'It's over,' said Jenna. The lance continued its relentless advance until its heat forced Ellen to take a step backwards. Followed by another. Suddenly Ellen's nerve failed. She gave Jenna a bitter smile of defeat and turned and walked slowly to the machine.
Jenna could not believe what she was seeing and her heart pounded in anticipation. Had she won? Was Ellen about to give in?
Ellen picke
d up a bent rail and stared at the twisted wires, the results of Carrick's handiwork, for a long time before grasping the other rail. There was a short interval, followed by the familiar, low pitched humming sound, and then Ellen disappeared from sight.
Jenna heaved a sigh of relief and lowered the lance, only to raise it again when the sound resumed. A body started to form in the place where Ellen had last stood.
Was it Carrick, or was it Brant? Jenna clutched the controller in a palm moist with perspiration, ready to trigger it at a moment's notice. The swirling figure finally solidified into a male human shape that quickly walked over to stand by Jenna's side.
Brant prised the lance from Jenna's trembling hands and deactivated the controller. 'You won't need these anymore,' he said.
Jenna allowed him to release them from her grasp, lacking the strength to prevent him. 'Is it really you?' she whispered.
'Yes, it's me,' said Brant. 'It's all over, I'm finally back.'
At the sound of Brant's voice Jenna's legs buckled and she fell forward into his arms. Brant carried Jenna out of the machine and down the corridor. Safe in his embrace, Jenna closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest where, although exhausted, she managed to find sufficient strength to latch her fingers into his uniform, as if unable to bear the thought of losing him again.
By the time Brant reached her cabin Jenna was fast asleep. He gently laid her on the bed and removed each individual strand of hair from her face, then sat next to her, holding her hands and listening to the softness of her breathing in the silence of the room. He stayed, motionless, for a long time until Jenna was completely relaxed, and then leant over and gently rested his lips against her brow before making his way to the door and turning out the lights.
In the distance the Phasewave base was illuminated by the deep orange glow of a setting sun. Jenna stood inside Tracker North and stared out of the window, saddened by the knowledge of what was about to happen.
'We won't get hit by flying debris out here,' said Brant.
'Is there no other way?' Jenna picked up the detonator controller and held it pensively.
'You have to understand that when the alien took the life forces from Ellen and Carrick it took all the goodness from them, leaving behind only evil. You saw what happened when they got out - the first thing they tried to do was steal your life force. I know that they are doomed because I shared the Phasewave with them, both they and the machines must be destroyed before they find a way out.'
'I gave Ellen my word that I would try to help them,' said Jenna.
Brant took the controller from her hand. 'But I didn't.' He saw the look of concern on Jenna's face. 'This is the only way forward. They could not stand anything pure and right, and they could not prevent themselves from trying to humiliate and abuse you. Last time I managed to reverse positions on Carrick and was able to help you, but neither of us can count on that kind of luck in the future.'
Jenna felt empty inside, although she knew that Brant was right. She walked back to the window and watched the dying orb of the sun turn blood red as it subsided below the horizon to release the night shadow on its nocturnal foray across the plain. A swarm of satellites ringed the darkening sky with a circle of lights and, higher still, tiny pinpricks broke through the dark mantle as stars became visible to the naked eye. Jenna looked at the pattern in the sky and wondered which one was the Vennican sun.
'What's that,' she asked, pointing to a moving light.
'It's a shuttleship,' said Brant. 'I put out an emergency call and diverted the Amar here to pick us up.'
Jenna was puzzled. 'How did you manage to contact the Amar within Phasewave shadow?'
'You learn a lot when you're inside Phasewave.' Brant smiled. 'Let's put on a show for them. Watch this.'
Jenna glanced back towards the base in time to see a shaft of dark red smoke and flame funnel into the sky, followed shortly afterwards by a distant horizontal white flash from the site of Tracker South. She observed the aftermath of the explosions with a feeling of detachment and then looked to the stars above and wished with all her might that everything that had happened was far behind and she and Brant were somewhere out amongst those stars watching a Vennican sunset together.
*******************************
'I can't believe we've been told to shut down the surveillance,' said Milo. 'Who the hell do Internal Operations think they are?'
'I guess we must be working for them now,' said Glen. 'Why hasn't Gil contacted us?'
'It looks like Gil has dropped off the face of the planet,' said Milo. 'I wonder why Slater didn't tell us this himself. Why leave it to his minions?'
'It could be that he's trying to avoid us for some reason. It's a bit strange that Operations has suddenly become involved. What exactly did they say to you?'
'They said they intended to pick us up this afternoon but can't get hold of a transporter for the gear. If they can't make it by nightfall they'll come first thing in the morning.'
'We'd better start packing then,' said Glen.
'Not yet,' said Milo. 'I'm not happy with this arrangement, something is not right.'
'I just wonder ...' Glen hesitated.
'What?'
'It was nothing.'
'I know you too well. What have you heard?'
'Only a rumour,' said Glen, 'and I know all about your opinions on rumours.'
'You and your rumours.'
'Which reminds me, I forgot to tell you that I have been assigned as Jenna's Support Officer.'
'How come?' said Milo. 'You're supposed to be working for me.'
'This was a request from another department. Don't envy me. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to sitting with Jenna while she is deliberately brain damaged, and then staying with her while she recovers, if, in fact, she ever does recover. Afterwards, regardless of whether she is alive or dead, I will then be required to certify that all legal procedures were complied with throughout the treatment so that the butchers who carried out the procedures will be immune from prosecution.'
'You sound unusually pessimistic,' said Milo.
'That's because I just described exactly what happened three months ago to another of my clients. But, going back to rumour control, give one example of any of my rumours proving to be wrong.'
Milo carefully considered the question. 'Okay, I guess you're usually right. What is it this time?'
'It was the strangest thing. I was looking through Gossip Hotline when this rumour flashed up. It said that there was a five million dollar contract out to kill a suspect in a court case. At first I took no notice, and then got a horrible feeling that it might be Jenna they were talking about. So, a few minutes later, I went back to the site, but the rumour had been removed. Usually a rumour like that generates a whole raft of responses, but not one single remark was made. I was about to go onto the site and ask if anyone else had seen the rumour when I suddenly realised that the site was being censored, so I kept my name to myself. It was a bit sinister, and I can only assume that the Security Service is monitoring the site.'
'Now I really don't like the sound of this,' said Milo. 'I'm going to keep the recorders going for as long as possible until I manage to contact Gil. I'm becoming convinced that the communications lines are being intercepted, so, if you don't mind, I would like to re-route the data stream to your apartment. Can you arrange it?'
'No problem, I'll make the connections right now.'
'Before you do,' said Milo, 'let me share something with you for a change.'
'Is this Milo pushing a rumour around? There's a first time for everything.'
'Please, this could be serious. I was talking to someone a while ago, and the subject of the Colonies came up. I haven't really been involved with colonial goings-on but it looks like there could be a situation developing. Both the Old and New Colonies refused to recognize Vennican rule when the government ceded power to the Judiciary and, in retaliation, the Law Lords threatened to increase colonial
taxes. The Colonies then blocked the export of trace minerals to Vennica, which could eventually affect almost half of Vennica's manufacturing capability.'
'That's fairly common knowledge,' said Glen.
'Yes, but here's something new. Talk now is that both Colonies, after three hundred years of war, have decided to call a truce and form an alliance to take over Vennica.'
'That sounds crazy.'
'I agree, but if you look at the combined firepower of their respective fleets you get a feeling that it would be a very short, one-sided conflict. Vennica would be practically helpless against an invasion of that order.'
'And do you believe that?'
'I didn't at first, but I have now heard more than a few rumblings along the same lines and it's beginning to look like the Judiciary is completely ignoring the situation. I wouldn't worry too much, because it will take time to organise an assault on that scale and I'm sure that we would pick up warnings before an attack. Anyway, knowing the Law Lords, I expect that they would probably surrender at the first possible opportunity.'
'I don't know what to say,' said Glen. 'I mean, this is a genuine rumour. From you? Whatever next?'
'Watch this space,' said Milo. 'In the meantime, let's pack all the loose stuff and get ready to leave, just in case the transport does arrive.'
Declan carefully considered everything Jenna had said, eventually reaching the conclusion that he had been correct in his first assessment.
Jenna laid a cloth on the ground and brought out the food she had prepared. 'Well,' she said, breaking the silence, 'that's it, what do you think?'
Declan closed his eyes and saw the picture, still in its entirety apart from the one vacant fragment, but he now knew what was destined to fill that place. 'I need more time,' he said.
'You promised,' said Jenna. 'Come on, Declan, keep your side of the bargain.'