by Jeff Taylor
His plea was answered only by the heavy footsteps continuing their march. The menacing object Naitus knew was there was getting closer. He heard no creaking of leather or the soft plodding of unprotected feet as the steps drew nearer. Instead each step assaulted the ground with the pounding of cannon-fire, powerful and determined; the paved road crushing beneath its weight.
Without warning, the flagpole was forcefully ripped from his hand. Brill’s eyes followed the seized cloth to see the outline of a man, veiled in shadow. Its head was buried beneath a hood with a pair of parallel blue-white lights piercing the suffocating haze where its eyes should have been. Brill shrank back as the fog suddenly swirled then dissipated from the monster, leaving the young Brill a clear view of the beast before him.
It was only human in form having the build and flesh of a man, but on his limbs and torso he saw intricate circuitry wrapped around titanium bones beneath exposed flesh that had been torn away like some putrid parasite. The machine’s clothing was as shredding as its skin, the tattered remains of a uniform as dark blue as the pre-dawn sky barely clinging to the body of muscle and metal. The icy blue beams Brill supposed to be the creature’s eyes radiated down on his ashen face as if looking down on a bug worthy of nothing but to be squashed beneath the heel of a boot.
Brill’s mind screamed for him to run but his now feeble adult body was crippled with fear. The creature did not move but continued to glare at its petrified victim. Searching for some weakness he could to exploit, Brill’s eyes scanned the monster, but found nothing.
The half-man, half-machine still held in his articulated metal hand the flagpole it had unceremoniously taken from him. In its grip, the pole soon began to glow a soft amber as if it were inside a forge, yet it refused to melt.
He stared hard at the cloth banner, mesmerized as it too began to glow, not burning but somehow changing. The golden fringe along its borders bristled in a previously unfelt breeze then burst into flames, dancing like blades of grass in a symphony of wind. The transformation was beautifully ethereal. Brill stared hypnotically until the conflagration engulfed the entire banner with a voracious hunger that seemed likely to consume the monster as well.
The flames’ sudden brilliance blinded the stunned Brill and he instinctively cowered back, covering his eyes. When they adjusted to the light, he gazed again at the flag. Where there had once hung the vibrant colors of his nation was flowing banner dark as pitch. Rising at its center was a majestic crimson bird surrounded by a raging fire, its wings reaching skyward. The burning animal cocked its head toward Brill with its radiant red eyes and unleashed a ferociously shrill cry that he was certain ruptured his ear drums. He fell backward onto the road and stared up at the metal beast and his burning standard. The machine raised the banner of the flaming bird above its head menacingly and with a deep, booming voice that would forever echo in Brill’s mind, it declared:
“By this, I shall conquer!”
CHAPTER 13
BREAK
“I see the good warden beat me here,” Tyrus Nelsonn observed upon seeing his flushed and irritated wife. Even through the protective glass between them, Nelsonn could see the fire raging in her eyes. Her relationship with Warden Strón had always been a sensitive subject. Her demeanor suggested to him that things had not changed.
“As usual, he found a way to ruin a special occasion,” she snarled. “He’s only giving us fifteen minutes.”
Nelsonn smirked. “I’m surprised. That’s actually quite generous of him considering he promised to eject you out of the airlock the next time he saw you.” He leaned forward and gazed at her, his eyes alight with sentiment. “I on the other hand,” he continued, “am very glad to see you.”
Her face softened and a smile the size of Tranquility bloomed across her angular face. She is stunning, he thought. Her natural beauty amazed him. Rarely had he seen her wear make-up or designer clothing but he never complained. His eyes soaked in every minute detail of her features; her bright green eyes and normally wild, coppery hair which she seemed to have died black for the occasion, set his heart aflame with desire. There was nothing in the universe that could divert his attention from such an exquisite creature.
An acute awareness of his own appearance suddenly made him self-conscious. He knew he was paler than she remembered. Living in a lunar prison underground for several years, he didn’t get out in the sun all that often. Dark rings had formed beneath his eyes from lack of sleep and the pasty-whiteness of his bald head did little to enhance his physical charm. Nevertheless, he had taken care of himself from the neck down. The weight room had not been neglected during his stay and instinctively, his hardened biceps flexed beneath the tight orange jumpsuit in hope that she might notice. From her reaction, she did. Her eyes flirted with his as she stared gleefully into his irises.
“I think you missed me,” she teased.
“Is it that obvious?” Nelsonn laughed. “I think you missed me too. That smile of yours might become permanent if we spent any more time together,” he said in his smooth baritone. Reluctantly, his eyes were drawn to the uniformed guard standing in the booth with her. “You could’ve brought better company, though.”
The guard behind Eve replied by powering up his weapon.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Eve said. “I’ll bet he’s a great dancer.”
Nelsonn was thoroughly enjoying their banter, but knew time was running out. Strón’s men would soon cut the visit short so it was time to get to the point. “I got your little anniversary package this morning. I must say that I am intrigued to see what good they do me while I’m locked up in here.” He said this with a playful, yet serious tone. “I can’t wait to try them out.”
Impossibly, Eve’s smile broadened further. “Neither can I. Are you wearing them now?” she purred.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he answered, letting his voice rumble deep in his throat. “So what else have you got planned?”
A wry smile formed on her thin lips. “Oh, I’ve gone all out. There will be fireworks, party favors and a clown for entertainment.”
Nelsonn beamed. “Sensational! I truly am the luckiest man alive,” he acknowledged, leaning closer to the glass. He looked down at the large timepiece strapped around her left wrist. Softly he asked, “When do the festivities begin?”
Mirroring his approach to the window until she was a hair’s breadth away, she winked. “In about ten seconds,” she said coyly.
“Excellent,” he softly replied.
Immediately, their conversation was interrupted by a faint popping sound in the distance. The trio of guards pressed a gloved hand to the side of their helmeted ears. The officer behind Eve nodded to the others opposite the glass. “This visit’s over,” he said, stepping toward Eve. “You two get him back to his cell and then get down to A-block to help.” The pair to the sides of Nelsonn took their charge by his arms and began to lift him out of the seat facing Eve. The sleek, black-armored guard behind Eve took her by the arm.
“Hey, he’s got something in his ear,” one guard said pointing to Nelsonn.
Eve’s face suddenly crinkled, as if she were about to sneeze. Her left arm rose to her mouth as if to suppress the reaction, but instead of sneezing she whistled softly into her wristwatch. The watch illuminated a bright green color and emitted a piercing high-pitched squeal. Instantly the guards dropped to the floor, completely immobilized. With swiftness Nelsonn had not expected, she swiveled around in her chair and leaped for the fallen guard behind her. His helmet was quickly removed and then used to smash the security cameras around the room.
“Thirty seconds,” she yelled as she took up the guard’s rifle and aimed it at the glass partition dividing her from Nelsonn. Nelsonn dove under the table below it just as she fired. The sonic pulse impacted on the hardened glass, sending thousands of dagger-like shards into the opposite wall. She then blasted the video cameras on his side of the room.
Nelsonn didn’t wait to survey the carnage. He seized one of t
he fallen officers’ forearm gauntlets and typed out the deactivation command for his shackles. Years of observing the code now paid off. The restraints opened and fell to the floor with a thud.
“Let’s go!” Eve shouted as she keyed the code sequence to open the secure door.
He leaped over the counter through the shattered partition and fell in behind her. She exited first, the gun’s barrel poised ready for any resistance to their escape. The long hallway ahead was devoid of any movement as the lights flickered on and off. Each of the armored guards that had stood at attention when she was marched by earlier were sprawled out on the floor, bathed in the flashing amber of the station’s warning lights. The device on her wrist had done its job. The guards would be unconscious for the next thirty seconds.
“Hold your breath,” she began, removing the watch from her wrist. She tossed the liberated timepiece to the center of the hallway. “Bounce twenty-three steps forward on three . . . two . . . one.”
At the end of her count, a brilliant light enveloped the hall. All electronic devices, including those in the couple’s possession, simultaneously powered off. The world was swallowed in darkness by the electromagnetic pulse’s paralyzing wake.
Nelsonn saw nothing before him but did as his wife instructed. Knowing that the magnetic field produced by his jumpsuit was inoperable and would not give him the simulated control of gravity, he pressed his feet off the carpeted floor and surrendered his body to the micro-gravity of the moon. Bounding like a lunar gazelle, he alternated his steps, counting each time his foot gently collided with the ground. When he landed his twenty-third step, he stopped. A firm hand reached out and gripped his arm. He assumed it was Eve since the guards couldn’t possibly have recovered from the excruciating hypersonic attack from Eve’s watch. Only with the specially prepared ear protection that she had sent him the morning before had he been able to withstand the onslaught on his own senses.
His lungs began to burn, but he could handle the discomfort. He had been practicing holding his breath for long periods for weeks.
Just as suddenly as they had gone out, the overhead lights reignited. They both knew that after an EMP attack the prison would be on lockdown and they would not be able to escape without the right procedures. Eve hooked her gloved hands under the armpits of the collapsed guard nearest the door, a female, and heaved the woman upward.
With a nod of her head, Eve signaled him to remove the guard’s helmet. Nelsonn did as he was instructed. To his surprise Sanyie Lison’s brilliant blonde hair cascaded from the helmet as he removed it from her head. For a moment, he panicked. This was not part of his plan. He knew she and Eve had been good, if not best friends for some time and he feared that Eve would hesitate to utilize her friend in their escape. Once again, he underestimated his wife. Eve immediately pried the woman’s left eye open and forced it against the door panel. Warden Strón’s sharp automated voice then called out from the speakers behind the panel. “Verify identity.”
To Nelsonn’s astonishment, Eve perfectly impersonated Sanyie’s unique Texas drawl.
“Seven, nine, eight, Zulu, five, Alpha, zero.”
Nelsonn heard a soft ping. The door whooshed open allowing them to exit the hall. He was impressed. Not only had she known the code, but had repeated it with enough exactness to deceive a very sensitive identification program. How could she possibly have known that Sanyie would be right there at that exact moment?
Eve released her hold on Sanyie and let her drop to the floor. Upon impact, Sanyie groaned softly and began to stir, waking from her forced sleep. Eve glared down at her former friend. With no remorse or sign of mercy, Eve raised her booted foot and brought it down hard against Sanyie’s temple. The prison deputy collapsed like a house of cards. Any doubt that Nelsonn had about his wife being swayed by past emotions was immediately laid to rest. She was focused and determined.
“Twenty seconds,” she urged him. Eve then turned and sprinted ahead through the door. Overhead, the claxon of an emergency alarm suddenly shattered the silence of the tomb-like corridor. A frantic announcement blared through the din.
“All available personnel to level A-2! All personnel to level A-2!”
Nelsonn wasn’t certain but he thought he heard the faint sound of gunshots and panicked outcries in the background amid the call for help. Eve offered a satisfactory smile.
“Sounds like Nu’s distraction is paying off,” Nelsonn beamed.
Eve did not share his enthusiasm for the situation. She rushed behind him as they darted across the office area adjacent to the transfer bay where her crew had seemingly passed out. The drugs she had poisoned them with would wear off in a couple of days.
“I’m not so sure being in debt to Xymon Nu is a good thing,” she panted.
Nelsonn chuckled at her fear. Everything was going according to plan. Nu wouldn’t be a problem.
They closed the nine-by-nine-meter office outside the docking bay quickly. So quickly in fact that Eve had to reach out to prevent Nelsonn’s momentum from slamming him into the wall near the opposite door. He wasn’t used to being without magnetic controls for his suit and so the timing for his bounds was not as accurate as it should have been. Eve deposited him on the floor behind her and then turned toward the control panel. Softly, she whispered a countdown to herself. “Three … two … one … everybody’s awake.” She input the access code she’d spent weeks memorizing and practicing. The docking bay door slid open and the couple jumped through just as they saw a pair of unconscious guards rise and stumble into the open office door.
Just as quickly as she had opened it, Eve forcefully jammed the door shut after they entered. “Go!” she shouted, grasping Nelsonn’s hand and hurling him toward the open gangplank of the docked Hermes. Nelsonn flew ahead, clumsily catching hold of the hydraulic lifts to the gangplank. Righting himself, he bounded up inside.
Eve’s heart was racing. If she didn’t release the moorings and open the hangar door the Hermes’ escape would be very short lived. Her nimble fingers danced over the control pad, entering the codes that would not only free the ship but also open the massive doors to the outer hangar. She entered the code twice, each time ending with the same result; ACCESS DENIED. Her gloved fist pounded against the metal wall panel. Just as she had thought, Strón had locked the prison down. No code could or would work until he said so. There was now only one way out. She turned to the ship and raised the rifle she had lifted from the guard in the visitor’s room. She aimed it at the locking arms of the docking bay which held the Hermes fast and with the adjustment of a few settings, a blast of plasma ripped through the air, decimating the mooring arm beneath the stern of the ship. A burst of black smoke belched from the impact. The ship lurched under the shock of the explosion but remained intact. She continued to do the same to the other moorings and soon the ship hovered above her, unfettered by its burning restraints. She then turned the gun on the stacked cargo and surrounding walls, blasting away at anything remotely flammable. Soon the room was ablaze with billowing smoke. Satisfied wither work, Eve dove for the gangplank just as she verbally ordered it shut.
Soon she was in the cockpit. The flickering yellow light from outside in the bay illuminated her pilot controls as her hands flittered over them. She only had one shot at their escape and timing was crucial.
The ship responded to her hurried commands, pivoting one hundred-eighty degrees to face the outer doors. On the cockpit’s viewport Eve saw both the docking bay and hangar doors. The first to open was not the one she’d hoped for.
The door from the office buckled and flew off its hinges. Sanyie emerged, followed by a pair of staggering, yet stable-enough-to-walk guards. Sanyie raised the pistol Eve knew she’d kept in her boot and brought it to bear on the Hermes’ main engine. A twisted snarl warped the deputy’s face as her finger slowly squeezed the trigger.
“Come on. Come on,” Eve urged, staring intently at the hangar doors. The fire suppression system should be responding by now. What’
s taking so long?”
As if responding to her cue, a loud alarm bell sounded inside the bay. Sanyie and the other guards froze, each knowing what that alarm meant, then frantically clamored over one another to get back into the office. The iron hangar doors unexpectedly flew open. The oxygen within the bay rushed outward sucking everyone and everything into the outer hangar with the force of a hurricane. Eve closed her eyes and winced at the pressure on her body as it was pinned against the back of her seat. The Hermes flipped and spun mercilessly in every direction, tossed about like a kite in a storm. Beads of sweat formed on her taut body as she wrestled with the controls, straining to direct the hurtling ship. When she finally regained control, she pointed the ship skyward. An obsidian sky dotted with stars taunted her through the mile-wide entrance above.
“Come on!” she said, willing the ship upward.
“Just in case I forget to mention it later,” Nelsonn shouted. “You are amazing!”
Eve ignored the compliment. “We’re not out of here yet,” she reminded him.
As soon as the words left her mouth, the massive jaws of the entrance began to close. Normally they opened at a deliberate pace, slow and steady to avoid anything from getting caught between their jaws. But by the speed they closed now it was clear to Eve she wouldn’t make it through in time. She pulled back on the controls and looped the ship backward, sending it racing for the hangar floor as the doors slammed shut. The station-wide radio sprang to life on the overhead speakers.
“Prisoner escape! Prisoner escape!” Strón’s agitated voice rang out from the intercoms. “Subdue all inmates, and their accomplices, by any and all means necessary!”
Nelsonn whistled. “You’ve really pissed him off,” he observed, obviously proud of his beautiful bride.
Eve looked over the instrument panel. The ground crew had recharged the Hermes’ fuel cells. They had power and were ready to go; there was just nowhere to go. Strón had initiated lockdown much faster than she’d anticipated and with the only exit available to them barred, she was at a loss what to do next. The ship was suddenly rocked by a fierce impact on the port side. Eve frowned and jerked the ship upwards. The drones were out. In the rearview monitor she saw them, two white, pilotless fighter-craft barreling toward the Hermes. Though they had always reminded Eve of flying Edison light bulbs with beetle-like pincers sprouting from the center, she knew they were formidable aircraft. Quick and agile, each drone carried enough firepower to rip even the largest ships from the skies.