Solomon's Arrow

by J. Dalton Jennings

  “That is most unfortunate, Commander,” said Morvan Godley with a shake of the head.

  Everyone but Richard screamed in pain, dropped to their knees, and clutched the sides of their heads in apparent agony. Richard looked on in horror. “Stop it!” he yelled.

  The pain came to a sudden halt. The three remained on the floor, panting with relief.

  “It’s good that you’ve come to your senses, Commander,” Morvan Godley stated. “We have no desire to continue with the atonement.”

  “Don’t you mean torture?” Richard hissed.

  “Semantics,” Morvan Godley declared, sounding a bit bored. “Now, if you please, recite the command codes, and we can move on to other questions.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  The moment those words left his mouth, Richard again heard frightened yelps. Floyd and the two security officers scuttled backward, staring at him fearfully. “What’s the matter with you?” he demanded, taking a step forward. Flailing their arms, the three shouted for him to stay back. They no longer recognized him and thought they were warding off an attacker.

  “Don’t make them suffer, Richard,” Lorna yelled. “Tell us what we want to know!”

  The other women looked at her with mixed emotions, some puzzled, others perturbed.

  “The Lord wants you to cooperate, Commander,” added Morvan Godley.

  Richard tore his horrified gaze away from his men. “The Lord, ha!” he scoffed. “God isn’t speaking to you. Your Lord is nothing but a damned machine—a nanobotic brain that’s fooled you into believing—gah!”

  Stunned by the blasphemy she was hearing, Lorna watched in dismay as Richard fell to the floor, writhing in agony.

  •

  Biting her lower lip, Mona stared at the six-inch by twelve-inch monitor embedded in the tight-fitting crawl space. The display showed two overly chatty technicians, walking leisurely around a shuttle, performing a routine inspection. Her concern grew with each passing second. Having made her escape from the brig thirty minutes earlier, it was only a matter of time before someone discovered her absence.

  “Come on, goddamn it,” she muttered, trying to will the technicians off the shuttle deck. “Judah, the men I’m watching … can you send a fake text to their Interlink Devices, telling them to go immediately to their supervisor’s office?”

  “Yes, Dr. Levin.”

  “Then do it—I’m running out of time.”

  “There is a drawback to carrying out this order, Dr. Levin.”

  Mona sighed, “What is it?”

  “Their supervisor’s office is barely one minute from the hanger,” Judah patiently explained. “You would not have enough time to implement this phase of your escape plan before your ruse is discovered and you are captured.”

  Mona was beginning to sweat. She’d been standing with anticipation in the cramped walkway for over ten minutes waiting for the technicians to finish their inspection. Normally, the shuttle bay would be deserted, an element of the plan she’d counted on when she first devised it back on Earth. The inspection was probably added to the schedule, she deduced, after the admiral returned to the ship with Dr. Singh.

  With her mind struggling to conceive of a way to distract the two technicians, Mona almost failed to notice when they disappeared off the monitor. She quickly shifted the minuscule spy-cam’s angle to take in the shuttle bay’s exit. The technicians were leaving.

  Repressing a sigh of relief, Mona opened the hidden access panel the second the two exited the shuttle bay and fairly sprinted to the nearest shuttle.

  “Judah, open the cabin door to shuttle number two.”

  The door descended vertically, revealing a set of steps built into its thick interior shell. Mona hardly touched the steps as she entered the shuttle and flung herself into the pilot’s chair. “Judah, lock the shuttle bay door and start depressurization. Prevent any attempt at overriding departure protocols.”

  It would take nearly a minute to completely depressurize the bay, but it couldn’t be helped. In the meantime, Mona powered-up the shuttle. As the engines hummed to life, an alarm sounded in the bay.

  “That didn’t take long,” she huffed.

  An angry voice blared from the intercom. “To the individual initiating the unauthorized start-up protocol in shuttle number two—power down immediately and state your identity!”

  Mona switched off the intercom. “Judah, how much time until the bay’s depressurized?”

  “Ten seconds, Dr. Levin.”

  The shuttle began turning to face the launch bay doors.

  With her finger hovering over the launch button, Mona was filled with so much tension she could barely breathe, much less think. The one coherent thought that kept thundering through her brain was a prayer … of sorts: Please, God, don’t let them kill me. Please, God, don’t let them kill me. Please, God, don’t let them kill me.

  The launch bay doors began to part. A rapidly expanding column of absolute black appeared between the two doors as they slid open. Mona shuddered as she gazed out the cockpit window: she was once again staring into the vast abyss of outer space. At least this time she was protected by more than a mere spacesuit.

  Seconds later, as Mona’s trembling finger pressed the launch button, the abyss rushed toward her, engulfing her in a nightmarish, black maw, which was akin to being swallowed by the devil himself. Pushing aside this unsettling thought, Mona smiled—she was clear of the ship. All she had to do now was survive the next few minutes.

  •

  The pain was excruciating.

  Richard fell to his knees holding the sides of his head. The pain was so intense he was unable to think; it felt like his brain was being impaled with a red-hot poker.

  He screamed—at least he thought he screamed—he wasn’t even sure.

  Then the pain, which seemed never-ending, was abruptly gone, and he found himself kneeling in a moonlit clearing surrounded by ominous-looking trees with twisted, low-hanging branches.

  He wasn’t alone. Ten feet away, three snarling wolves were facing him, backs arched, teeth bared, froth dripping from their menacing jaws.

  What? This can’t be right! How did I get here?

  He tried to remember, but the sight of wolves swept all other considerations aside.

  The wolves crouched, preparing to leap. Richard needed a weapon but didn’t dare taking his eyes off the bloodthirsty predators. He had to do something. They’d tear him limb from limb otherwise. From the corner of his right eye he saw a three-foot long, solid-looking stick lying on the ground. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. As he reached for the weapon, the wolves dove through the air. Richard tumbled backward, covering his face.

  The expected attack never materialized. Opening his eyes, Richard found himself back in the Room of Atonement.

  “Now, Commander, about those codes,” purred Morvan Godley.

  Richard lay on the floor looking up at the blank ceiling. “Go to hell.”

  More excruciating pain! Screams tore from his throat! An interminable period of time passed before the pain vanished. Richard found himself sitting in the jump seat of an aircraft. A familiar face turned in the captain’s seat. It was Janice Ball, his former wingman.

  “So, I hear Russell Takahashi’s onboard,” she said, giving him a searching look.

  He nodded, feeling a powerful case of déjà vu. “Excuse me, Janice, I’d like to check on my wife and son.”

  Richard climbed unsteadily to his feet. Opening the cabin door, he entered the passenger compartment unable to shake the nagging suspicion that something was terribly wrong. David was waving at him. What a gorgeous child, he thought. As he went to return his son’s wave, time slowed to a crawl. A flash of light appeared across the aisle from where his family sat. It changed to flames—an explosion! The blast slowly engulfed his son and wife, their smiling faces twisting in horror at the realization of what was taking place.

  Richard’s hand clawed the air as he reached out, h
is horror immeasurable.

  The scene reversed itself and began again. The explosion once more engulfed his wife and son, their smiles turning again to panic, their skin melting.

  “No!” Richard screamed at the top of his lungs. He must be going insane. “Stop it!”

  The scene reversed as before and began again.

  Tears were pouring down Richard’s cheeks. He desperately wanted to turn away, to shield his heart from this dreadful torment, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from David’s beautiful face, even as the boy’s delight changed to panic-stricken fear, again and again.

  Richard’s soul felt like it was being crushed. He knew, on a fundamental level, that the event he was seeing was an illusion, nothing more. His emotions were being manipulated, and yet, he suffered all the same. Only a monster would force him to endure such anguish.

  Finally, the illusion faded. He was kneeling, slumped on the floor in the Room of Atonement. Slowly lifting his head, he saw his men gathered around him, concern written on their faces.

  “Are you ready to talk, Commander? Or shall we continue with your atonement?” The voice belonged to Morvan Godley.

  Richard felt dazed, exhausted by the experience. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t; he didn’t have the energy.

  “Enough,” snapped Lorna Threman. “He’s endured enough for one day. We’ll give him the night to ponder his intransigence and then start again tomorrow.”

  “No,” Jemis Calverton gasped, rising half out of her seat. “We should press the commander harder. If we bring him back tomorrow, he’ll be conditioned to the atonement and put up more of a fight. Another few minutes and he’ll be—”

  “The decision is made,” Lorna stubbornly countered. “Norla, secure the prisoners’ wrists and escort them to my audience chamber. I want to speak with them personally.”

  “Do you think that’s a wise course of action, Chancellor?” asked Kateling Tarnal.

  Richard heard only silence. Lorna must have turned the sound off again. Almost a full minute passed before the sound returned. Meanwhile, his men expressed their concern. He assured them he was fine, which was true, as his bearings were starting to return.

  “You will stand and face the wall opposite the foldway, then place your hands behind your backs,” instructed Norla.

  As the group climbed unsteadily to their feet, Richard glanced at Floyd Sullivant. The large security officer was silently pleading with his eyes, asking for permission to try something when the Minder captain entered the room. Richard shook his head. He needed more time to think. Going off half-cocked would only lead to more pain and suffering.

  They were soon exiting the Room of Atonement and standing in Lorna Threman’s audience chamber, where she was already waiting for them.

  Richard watched in narrow-eyed fury as she climbed the dais and sat on her throne. He’d never once felt the desire to hurt a woman, but at that moment his hands ached to throttle the life out of her.

  •

  Gazing into Richard’s hate-filled eyes was tearing a hole in Lorna’s heart. He should have turned over the command codes. How could he be so loyal to people he barely knew? It didn’t make any sense. When the Lord ordered him sent to the Room of Atonement, Lorna never dreamed he’d endure so much suffering yet still refuse to divulge the information her Lord required. She’d finally stopped the atonement when her own torment became unbearable. This was something new to her: his pain had become her pain.

  It made no difference to her if the others continued with their atonement; however, Richard would’ve never forgiven her had she allowed it. Judging by the look on his face, she wasn’t sure he ever would. As much as she hated it, there was only one thing to do …

  Stepping down from the dais, Lorna approached Norla. “May I see your stun-baton?”

  The hard-faced woman hesitated, puzzled by the unusual request, before reluctantly handing over the weapon.

  Lorna turned the device over in her hand. “How does it work, Norla? Explain its functions.”

  The Minder edged up beside her. “This touch pad delivers the shock; this one regulates the voltage; this one releases their bindings; this one sends a distress signal to—”

  “Thank you, Norla,” she said. “I’d like to use your stun-baton to personally force the answers out of the prisoners … starting with Commander Allison.”

  Glancing over at Richard, she saw his anger change to confusion and disappointment.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Chancellor,” declared the Minder captain.

  At first, Lorna wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “I’m sorry, what?”

  Norla replied impatiently, “Each stun-baton is biometrically keyed to work for one Minder only. In other words, if a stun-baton is used by anyone other than its true owner, it won’t operate. Therefore, if the commander is to be subdued, I’ll need my baton back.”

  “Yes, of course,” Lorna chuckled, looking apologetic. “What was I thinking? I knew that.”

  Norla, who stood less than a foot away, held out her hand.

  Lorna moved as if to return the weapon. Instead of placing it in the woman’s outstretched hand, it whipped upward, connecting with a crack to her jaw.

  Norla was caught completely off-guard. As she staggered backward, Lorna leapt forward and struck again, this time across the left temple. With a yelp of pain, the Minder captain doubled over. Lorna smashed her across the back of the skull, dropping her senseless to the floor. Behind her she heard gasps of surprise.

  Lorna took in the prisoners’ surprised faces. Richard appeared flabbergasted. “We don’t have much time. All of you, come here … I need to free your hands.”

  “But how—” Richard stopped speaking upon seeing Lorna place the stun-baton in the Minder captain’s palm.

  Carefully avoiding touching the weapon, she wrapped Norla’s fingers around the device and activated the touch pad she learned would release the prisoners’ electronic shackles. In less than a minute, all four of them were studying her closely as they rubbed their unbound wrists. “What’s the meaning of this, Lorna? Why are you helping us?” asked Richard.

  She wasn’t sure she could explain it to herself, much less Richard. “That can wait. We need to contact your ship, tell them what’s happened, and leave the city. We need to steal a vehicle and make for the forest or the ice field, where we can rendezvous with a rescue shuttle.” Reaching into her dress pocket, she removed their Interlink Devices and handed them over. “Here, contact your admiral and inform her of your predicament.” Turning, she headed toward the exit at a brisk pace. The others followed close behind.

  “About that,” said Lt. Sullivant. “The admiral may not be terribly helpful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just that—shit! My SID’s not working,” Floyd exclaimed.

  Lorna stopped to ask what he meant, but instead froze in her tracks; a frightened gasp escaped her throat. Directly ahead of her was a sight she’d never before seen: the interior of the large foldway that connected her audience chamber to the building’s ground floor was blank. Something had shut it down—but why? It had been open for over two thousand years. Had the Lord become angry with her and blocked their path of escape?

  28

  “What do you mean, someone’s stolen a shuttle?!” Katherine thundered, slapping the top of her desk.

  On her view-screen, the security officer in charge appeared startled. “We just now received word of an unauthorized shuttle departure, sir. I was told the vehicle’s occupant was hailed but refused to issue a response.”

  “Stand by!” she snapped. “Computer, who’s piloting the shuttle that just left the ship?”

  “All ship’s personnel are accounted for, Admiral.”

  “That’s not what I asked.” In a flash of insight, Katherine realized there was only one person aboard brazen enough to do such a thing. “Computer, show me Dr. Mona Levin’s cell.”

  Katherine fully expected to see an
empty room, but instead saw Mona lying on her cot, humming the children’s song, “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” It didn’t make any sense.

  Dr. Singh buzzed her. “I’m on my way to speak with you, Admiral.”

  “Not now, Doctor.” Leaping to her feet, she stormed from her ready room.

  When she burst onto the bridge, Katherine startled the crew. Lt. Julie Norwood, the ship’s communications officer, Lt. Bret Miller, the security officer in charge, and Lt. Rolf Erickson, the ship’s junior pilot, turned from their consoles in alarm.

  “Computer, activate exterior camera, section B-3,” she ordered. “Display visual on bridge view screens.”

  “What’s going on, sir?” asked Lt. Erickson.

  The view screen in front of her came to life, showing the planet. “Computer, enlarge image of vehicle located in grid D-9.” She glanced over at the young man. “An unknown person has stolen one of our shuttles, Lieutenant.” She heard the entrance to the bridge slide open. “Norwood, open a channel to that shuttle.” The young woman rapidly complied. “Attention, unknown person or persons aboard the stolen shuttle: you will return to the Arrow immediately. Failure to comply will result in your destruction.”

  Katherine tapped a button, causing the face of the security officer she’d spoken with earlier to appear in a box in the upper right-hand corner of her screen. “Miller, arm plasma cannon and await my order.”

  A familiar, though irritating voice, spoke up. “What’s the meaning of this, Admiral?”

  “I don’t have time to answer your questions, Dr. Singh,” she hissed. “Norwood, what’s the status on the shuttle’s position?”

  “It remains headed toward the planet, sir. I followed up with an emergency hail, but there’s been no response.”

  “How long ’til the shuttle enters the planet’s atmosphere?”

  Lt. Norwood checked her readings. “Three minutes and … nineteen seconds, sir.”

  “Repeat my earlier hail, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes, sir.”