by Thomas Green
We ate the rest of the meal before I asked. “How do I get into our water pipe?”
Oliver shook his head. “The pressure will kill you.”
“Suppose not.” I smiled. “How would I get into it?”
“You would have no way to move up in the pipe and the defense at the bottom would kill you.”
“How do I get in?”
He sighed. “I need to see where the pipes lead from the toilet.”
“Thanks.” I rose. “Let’s go. Wukong, with me, Loki, fetch Rhonrohak.”
They both gave me the you don’t get to order me around look but went to do as I bid. We were too deep into the escape plan for them to fight back my command. I led Oliver into the bathroom.
“The last stall,” he said, and we went there. Loki and Rhonrohak joined us soon.
The werewolf still wore an amused smile. I broke the routine, which provided him more entertainment than he had in past two decades. He would comply with anything for the fun alone and to prove he was worthy of being a werewolf. “Planning another trip to the extraction?”
“Not yet.” I smiled. “Oliver?”
“Quiet.” He tapped on the wall, listening. After ten minutes, he pointed at the spot. “Here, I need to make a hole into the wall to see where the pipes lead.”
The spot was just above the seam between two steel plates that covered the wall. I glanced at Rhonrohak. “Can you do that?”
“It’ll be noisy though.”
“Wukong, Loki, block the bathroom door.”
They gave me sour smiles and obeyed. Rhonrohak collected three toilet brushes, grabbed one with both hands, and slammed its back end into the wall. Metal clanged, but he made a dent.
Hit after hit, he drove the toilet brush’s back end into the wall until the edge in the seam bent.
He tossed aside the used, now slightly deformed, toilet brush and gripped another one. Sweat covered him and he panted. He pushed the toilet brush’s back end under the bent edge of the steel plate and used it for a lever.
After ten minutes of pushing, kicking, and jumping on the toilet brush, the glue holding the steel plate gave in and the plate peeled off. Beyond was a stone wall.
Heaving, Rhonrohak used the third brush and hit the wall. The concrete was thin, old, and crumbled upon the impact. A few more strikes and a hole gaped in the wall.
The werewolf sat onto the closed toilet, supporting his hands on his knees. Sweat covered his entire body.
Oliver peeked in. “Yes, this looks like the duct shaft. If you follow it, you should find the main pipe, which will have a maintenance door.” He sighed. “I need to remind you that the water pressure will kill you if you enter.”
“Thanks,” I said and pushed him away from the hole in the wall. “Leave this stall, block the door, and act as if nothing happened.”
Pale, Oliver nodded.
“Lucifer,” Rhonrohak said. “You’ve been fun.”
“I’ll be back soon.” I push my head and arms into the hole and slid into the duct shaft. Damp and full of pipes, it offered space for nothing more than crawling. Rhonrohak and Oliver covered the hole behind me with the steel plate, trying to arrange it not to be too noticeably broken.
I crawled twenty feet and stopped. By memory, I moved my hands over my collar’s smooth surface. The time I had with Ares’s collar was more than sufficed to learn how to loosen the restrictions. After ten minutes of trying, I could reach into my core and draw my aether. Not fully, but enough to completely reinforce my body.
The duct shaft led me to a column-like shaft full of pipes in what looked like the insides of the tower leading through the entire prison. Metal steps built into the wall headed upward, dozens of feet. Without waiting, I undressed. Cold bit into my skin. But I needed my clothes to remain intact. I climbed up. Aside from the smaller plumbing leading into sideways-heading duct shafts, two major pipes were present.
Upon touch, one trembled slightly, which I identified as water running through. The second one didn’t vibrate, so it was most likely ventilation. As Oliver predicted, a maintenance door was indeed placed on each large pipe.
I stabilized on the steps, grabbed the valve, spun it, and opened the small door. A torrent of water was falling in front of my eyes, filling the entire pipe, which was over ten feet in diameter. Its wall was two inches thick, pure steel, smooth from both sides.
Oliver wasn’t kidding. For a normal man, this would be lethal, body-crushed-in-seconds type of lethal. That also meant there wouldn’t be any real security present.
I glanced at the door above me, at the end of the steps, which undoubtedly led to the maintenance halls somewhere around the Upper Prison. Using the aether I could currently command, I could break through them and try to escape.
But that wouldn’t work. Legend shared among the prisoners said Tul Sar Naar was an island flying above the Arctic. Even if I made it out, the weather would kill me within a few hours. Not to mention Hades and Persephone, two ancient gods without collars, would hunt me down together with whatever security forces Lucielle had in the vicinity.
No, there was no way to escape alone, which was why nobody has escaped this place in its entire existence. I steeled my body with aether, forming the strength and endurance focused, octagonal pattern.
I started taking deep breaths, exhaling everything before breathing in again. There would be no air inside the pipe.
The main problem with not breathing wasn’t the lack of oxygen—the body had enough of that—but the buildup of carbon dioxide, which acidified the blood. Through aether usage, I could slow that down significantly. Fallen angel or not, I didn’t think I would manage more than ten to fifteen minutes. Yes, professional breath holders could last almost twenty minutes, but they didn’t have to climb up a pipe while doing so.
After taking the deepest breath I could, I stretched my hand into the pipe. The current hit my arm like a falling truck, almost knocking it down. If my body wasn’t reinforced with aether, the pressure would crush my arm. And yes, Oliver’s estimate of the current having a strength of over a thousand pounds per square inch was accurate.
Great. I forced my arm upward, pressing my fingers against the steel case. The inch-thick metal deformed under my touch as if the steel was soft clay. Hah, Hades did some serious cost-cutting with these pipes. Sure, they were thick, but the steel was soft, so he must have used a low-carbon steel, not hardened, probably made in the cheapest factory in Eastern Russia.
Still, bending steel with my fingers felt awesome. That was why people like me got locked up in this hell—no normal prison could ever contain me.
I pulled myself up, stretching my other hand to dive my fingers into the steel. The water felt like the heavens froze and were falling on me. I could see nothing, hear nothing, and felt little but pain. And so, I climbed diagonally not to miss the connecting pipe. After moving one stretch upward, I kicked the wall, bending the pipe’s wall with my foot to create a foothold.
Like a spider, I climbed.
The pain in my muscles quickly built up. My mind wandered. While being transported here, I received an offer to become Lucielle’s agent in exchange for freedom. That would mean spending the rest of my life as a servant, but it had little actual downsides except the whole until the end of times part.
But I didn’t want to be her slave, at least not forever. Time meant nothing to me, so I could stay here and wait until Lucielle needed me for something and improved her pitch.
Yes, I could wait for the next offer she was bound to make, accept it, and leave this place. But somehow, I knew I wouldn’t do that, anyway. That wouldn’t be the freedom I wanted. Something within me refused to bow, to obey, to serve. I have inherited that from Lucifer, haven’t I?
Ultimately, he led a rebellion against the Lord because he considered himself better than the Almighty’s rules. The refusal to accept someone else’s bindings must have transferred to me through his soul.
My senses started to numb, and mind dimm
ed. I wasn’t going to make it all the way. My thoughts wandered again. The ideal of freedom wasn’t enough to get killed here.
But Evelyn was.
When I left her, taking on myself all crimes she was accused of, I promised her I would return within a year. Now, ten months later, the time has almost run out.
Oxygen started leaving my muscles. Ignoring the burning, I inched upward. As I reached for the next advancement, my hand found no wall, catching a round edge instead. That had to be the connecting pipe. Normally, this opening would be closed. But in emergency situations like these, the entrance opened, so water could flow from the western pipe into the eastern one, providing water for the Female Ward.
I gripped the round edge and I pulled myself inside. The current swept me, now hitting my back. I slid through the water pipe within seconds and the water threw me into the other pipe.
Stretching my arms, I dug my fingers into the steel pipe, bending it beneath my touch. The current pinned me on the wall. My mind blanked for a second. Thinking of nothing but Evelyn, I climbed up. I would fulfill my promise and return to her. This liquid wouldn’t stop me. Nothing would.
Seconds later, the current stopped hitting me and my head emerged from the water. I drew breath.
My mind cleared slightly, and I pulled myself upward so the water would stop hitting my legs. Up above me loomed the empty eastern water pipe, clogged about thirty feet above me.
A smile tugged at my lips. All I had to do was to clear out the blockade. The water current from above the plug would join the torrent entering from the western pipes and thunder downward in a force far beyond the construction’s limits. Sure, these pipes could handle it—that was why they were so thick—but the delicate plumbing in the female ward wouldn’t, especially if the used material was as low-cost as this one.
After long minutes of breathing in and out, I moved by the circumference to get above the connecting pipe. The water from above most likely had enough pressure to kill me upon impact. I braced my body with aether and slid back into the connecting pipe. The current nearly swept me out.
But I held on, my fingers digging into the steel. With careful moves, I hid back in the pipe and struck out my hand. I formed a sphere of aether in my palm. Oh, if only I could use my full power. With that, I would turn this place into a ruin in half an hour of work.
But the limitations of my collar allowed no such strength. I made the sphere spin and compressed the energy. The condensed aether became visible to bare eyes, shining like a tiny sun in my palm. I aimed upward and let go. The blast of pure energy thundered up the tunnel. Steel screeched and water exploded from above.
I withdrew my arm a split second before the descending water could crush me. My muscles screamed with strain. The current in the connecting pipe stopped. Since the eastern pipe was now full of water, the pressure in the connecting pipe stabilized. I swam back.
A searing sensation filled my lungs when I reached the end of the connecting pipe. Running out of strength, I grabbed the end and flung myself into the western pipe. The torrent of water from above hit me like a car, throwing me down.
I sprung my body, stretched out my arms, and dug my fingers into the steel pipe. The steel bent beneath the touch and I slowed my fall until I ground into a halt. Descending in a spiral, I arrived at the open maintenance door.
My fingers caught hold and I flung myself out of the pipe, catching the metal steps. Strength left my body. I fell into the duct shaft. Despite my flailing to slow down the fall, I hit the bottom in a bone-crunching hit.
Sharp pain joined the dull ones. I bit my tongue not to fall unconscious. I could do that later. Whimpering with pain, I dragged myself to my feet. Everything hurt. My teeth clattered. More by memory than senses, I found my clothes where I left them. Dressing took forever. Icy cold filled my body, making my entire being shake.
Even putting my hand into the cotton t-shirt’s sleeve took effort. Too cold to think, I put on the jumpsuit and crawled through the duct shaft leading to the toilets.
The opening awaited me like the light at the end of the tunnel. I slid through, falling into the booth. I grabbed the toilet and hauled myself to my feet. Not the time to pass out. All my willpower was necessary to stop my hands from trembling. I picked up the steel plate and placed it over the hole, catching it on the glue.
Weakened, but it would hold in place, at least for a time. Using the last bits of my aether, I strengthened my hand and bent back the metal where Rhonrohak deformed it earlier.
Once done, I sat onto the toilet, and moved my fingers by my collar. I had to put it back into the most restrictive mode. That I could loosen the restrictions was a secret I had to keep, at least for now.
After a minute or so, I managed, and exited the toilet. Loki, and Wukong awaited me by the bathroom sinks.
Wukong arched an eyebrow. “You look like a half-recycled trashcan.”
“Thanks.” I forced out a smile. “Cover the booth with an illusion. Loki, take me to the cell.” I collapsed to the ground, utterly spent.
Amarendra 3
JASIKA YELPED from the bathroom. I bolted from the chair, dropping the tie I was about to place around my neck. A few swift steps later, I opened the door and peeked inside. She stood by the sink, drying her dress with a towel. Water was bursting out of the tap, splashing on the ground.
I ignored the ice-cold water and closed the tap. “Are you unhurt, Wife?”
“Yes.” Her face reddened. “Sorry… that was childish.”
I smiled. “No harm done.” I spread my arms.
She accepted the offered hug, leaning into me. The sweet smell of her perfume filled my nose and my mind wandered to the days we first moved to New York. In retrospect, when I started my medical degree at Columbia University and she came with me to become a nurse, those were the happiest days we shared. The careless discovery of a country new to us was incomparable to anything else. Since we lacked any relatives to invite, we married in a small chapel and spent our honeymoon on a road trip along the Eastern Coast.
Shame one never knew he was living through the good old days before they were gone.
A sharp knocking on the door interrupted the moment. Reluctantly, we detached, and I went to see the visitor.
Sora stood beyond the doorframe, his body tense, his jaw clenched. “There’s an emergency. Hades sent me to fetch you.”
Why me? No answer offered itself to my mind, which made me frown and clench my muscles. I glanced at Jasika, who exited the bathroom. “Sorry, but I need to go. I will join you at the party later.”
She glared at me, which clearly meant don’t fuck this up. “Of course, Dear. Good luck,” she said with a professional smile.
I followed Sora. He led me into an off-limits part of the Upper Prison, where we entered a room. Inside sat Hades, Persephone, and two men and two women who I didn’t know. They had no collars, marking them as members of the paid staff. The room itself featured a large, round table with microphones built in front of each seat.
A slight chill ran down my spine. I glanced at Hades. “Forgive me the question, but why are Sora and I here?”
“Takes a seat, Doctor.” Hades smiled. “Despite the short time you have spent here, you two have proven to be exceedingly resourceful.”
No, that was not it. Sora was here because he could defeat Lucas in a straight fight. I was present because of my medical expertise and thanks to my wife loving the local life. Hades may have not trusted me, but he put faith in my wife’s desires forcing me to comply.
Sora and I sat down. The others eyed us with suspicion, their arms all close to their bodies in unconsciously defensive positions.
“Anyway, let us start.” Hades cleared his throat. “We are facing a critical emergency. The blockade we set up in the Eastern pipeline collapsed, together with a part of the closing mechanism atop the pipe. That has caused an overpressure in the Female Ward’s plumbing, which has started flooding.” He took a sip from the coffee sitting in fron
t of him. “Our maintenance crew is looking into solutions, but until the shipment of industrial welding machinery arrives, we have no solution but to evacuate the Female Ward, gathering all prisoners into the male one.”
Oh… I glanced at Sora, who wore a deep scowl.
“Aside from repairs, we face two challenges.” Hades continued. “First, we need to maintain security and second, we will need to face lowered hygienic standards since the male wing is not built to house so many prisoners.”
I was wrong. We were here for our professional qualifications. While I made a career as a director of an oncology clinic, I did my PhD on the topic of preventive medicine. Sora, as far as I had heard, was a former detective and special forces operative. I glanced at the four people I didn’t know who were sharing the table with us.
The tall man with a yellow helmet placed on the table was undoubtedly the chief of the maintenance crew. The woman in her late twenties wearing a white coat was most likely the physician for civil staff. By the bullet-proof vest, the second man represented security and the last woman, wearing a business suit, was most likely the facility manager.
Clothes truly defined a person.
Since no one spoke, I did. “Supposing the water filters servicing the male wing weren’t built for so many inmates, we will likely face water contamination at some point. We need to have everyone vaccinated against Cholera, Typhus, Hepatitis A, and Hepatitis B… and then against the sexually transmitted diseases, mainly HPV.”
Hades glanced at the female doctor. “Doctor Nowitski?”
She shrugged. “I’m a surgeon.”
Hades nodded, without appearing angry or disappointed. He knew who he was working with and, well, he probably couldn’t get anyone more qualified than her, anyway. Working in a prison above the Arctic wasn’t the dream job for highly qualified medical practitioners even if the pay was great. And I doubted it was that good.