Captivity

by Maureen Toonkel

When they were first brought down to this slave colony, Hampton had caught a glimpse of where the slave masters and guards dwelled. He had seen some of the silver lined tunnels that stretched deep into the underground. Since then he had learned that beyond the slave colony, through those tunnels, existed a huge glistening city where the free people lived. There were two classes of free people, the Populaces and the Wealthies. The Populaces included the guards and the workers who brought the slaves their fish and water everyday. The Wealthies were the slave masters, business owners, and entrepreneurs. In turn there were two classes of slaves, the servants who were owned by the Wealthies and the laborers who were owned by the kingdom. The laborers worked in the silver mines and gravel pits. They could be bought or rented by the Wealthies to be servants. The slaves came from around the galaxy and beyond. It was said that the Brisulans had a fleet of spacecrafts that scouted around outer space capturing new slaves.

  Morning eventually came, and Ensign Glenna and Lieutenant Hampton were assigned to dig in the gravel pits. Their cage door was opened. The chains around their legs that pinned them to the walls were released. They took their places in the line of slaves ready to march off to work. New leg chains were locked about their ankles, linking them to the slaves standing in front and in back of them.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  May 25

  “Denny, I want us to be conveyed down at the same coordinates where Ensign Glenna and Lieutenant Hampton’s bodies were found,” ordered Captain Stoner.

  “Yes, sir,” said Lieutenant Commander and Chief Engineer Dennis Pearson. He was a tall good looking man with an Ivy League haircut. “What exactly are you going to be looking for?”

  “I don’t know. But, Denny, continue to try and establish some kind of communication with the planet below.”

  “But, sir, all our sensors show that there is no human or alien life on Brisula.”

  “I know, but apparently the sensors may be wrong. Just keep trying.”

  “Very well, sir. Ready to convey.”

  f Captain Stoner, Commander Andrews, Dr. Loring, and Lieutenant Shasta found themselves in the exact spot where eight days earlier the bodies of Keith Hampton and Beverly Glenna were lying in a pool of blood.

  “Let’s keep our zip guns ready,” advised the Captain. “Dave, do you see any clues as to what actually occurred here?”

  “Captain, what happened must have occurred very close by. Lieutenant Hampton and Ensign Glenna were not gone for very long. Our ship’s sensors show that the entire planet’s surface is forest-like. The only sensible answer is that there is some sort of underground hideout that our sensors couldn’t detect. The entrance to this underground is probably near by.”

  “OK, then going on the assumption that we are looking for an entrance to an underground world, let’s split up. Lieutenant Shasta and I will search this side.”

  Shasta and Stoner carefully tiptoed around looking for anything suspicious. Shasta headed over to a huge rock. His foot got caught on a piece of tree branch lying on the ground and he tripped. To brace himself against falling, he leaned his shoulder against the large rock. At that precise instant he disappeared. Josh Stoner ran after him. He pushed his hands against the rock, and instantly he found himself besides Lieutenant Shasta on the other side of the rock.

  Stoner and Shasta surveyed their surroundings. The sparkling silver was so bright that they had to close their eyes at first. Gradually their eyes became accustomed to the silver. They examined the wall where they had entered. There was no visible entrance. They pressed their hands and bodies against the sides of the tunnel, but whatever entrance had been there was now sealed off. Josh tried to use his satellite phone to call the Gladiator but there was no reception. Apparently no one had seen them enter. Overhead hung a sign that read:

  A chain link barrier stretched across the road. A small gateway in the fence was slightly ajar. The two officers were able to squeeze through. They walked stealthily down the silver corridor that extended out in front of them. As they reached an intersection they saw two people in guard-like uniforms further down the tunnel. They took a left turn.

  “Duck into this smaller empty tunnel,” said Stoner, “and stand close against the wall.” The corridor was lined with doors. Each door had a number.

  “It’s like an apartment house,” Shasta whispered.

  As the guards approached they could hear their conversation.

  “Mox told me that he was sure he heard the intruder signal go off,” said the first guard. “He is worried as he thinks one of his workers accidentally left the BE gate open.”

  “That was sloppy,” commented the second guard. “I’ll go up ahead and get it locked.” He reached into a pocket and withdrew a ring of keys. “Why don’t you start searching the area?”

  “ATTENTION ALL GUARDS,” came an announcement from some loudspeakers mounted on the walls of the tunnel. “OUR SENSORS HAVE REVEALED THAT THERE ARE INTRUDERS ONCE AGAIN ON THE PLANET’S SURFACE. ALL CITIZENS ARE TO RETURN TO THEIR HOMES AND ARE TO REMAIN THERE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. THE SENSORS ALSO REPORT THAT AT LEAST ONE AND POSSIBLY TWO INTRUDERS HAVE ENTERED OUR CITY. THEY ARE TO BE APPREHENDED AND BROUGHT TO PUNISHMENT CENTER C-7.”

  Lieutenant Commander Dennis Roger Pearson stepped off the elevator and surveyed the Bridge crew. A bunch of substitutes. It seemed that whenever he got to assume command there was only inferiors to supervise. Boy, what he wouldn’t do to be able to order Dave Andrews around. Commander Andrews, would you please run an atmospheric analysis for me on the double. And Andrews would reply, ‘Yes, sir, on the double.’ That Andrews sure rubbed him wrong at times. Pearson couldn’t exactly put his finger on what it was that he didn’t like about Andrews. Perhaps it was his brilliancy, or perhaps it was Andrews’ self-confidence. But most likely it was just his rank, Commander, one step above his own rank and one step below Captain.

  As Pearson sat down in the Captain’s seat, the substitute navigator turned around and flashed a smile at him. Ensign Mohammed Saad was a Muslim from Iran who had fled his country during the Middle East-American Nuclear War. A member of the Iranian Army, Mohammed allowed himself to be captured by an American battalion, and later he defected to America. He joined the Navy and eventually wound up aboard the U.S.S. Gladiator. The recent death of Lieutenant Hampton had resulted in his subsequent promotion to chief navigator. Besides Ensign Saad, sat Lieutenant Junior Grade Bonnie Shea, one of the few women laser technicians in the United Galaxy Command. Filling in for Dave Andrews at the science station was Chief Warrant Officer Jackson Greene, a very inexperienced rookie science officer. Greene had just begun his training under Andrews only five days before that first landing on Brisula.

  The only regular Bridge crew member was the flaming red head sitting at Dennis Pearson’s right. She had a wireless earphone in one ear and a silver pencil above the other ear. Pearson eyed the Communications Officer with an intense hunger.

  Easy. he told himself. There will be plenty of time for that tonight. His mind wandered back to the first time he met Diane. He had been awed by her striking red hair and deep green eyes. She was sitting in the University of North Carolina’s library, scribbling notes on a yellow legal pad. Spread in front of her was a huge diagram of a spaceship engine. Pearson, then a U of NC engineering student sat down in an empty chair across the table from her and whispered, “Need any help?” The pen went flying as Diane jumped, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Six months later they were married and two months after that they entered the United Galaxy Command.

  “Denny,” said Lieutenant Diane Pearson, this time causing Pearson to jump. “I still cannot establish any communication with the planet below, however I have picked up some sort of transmission. But it is not very clear.”

  “Put it on audio, Lieutenant,” ordered Pearson.

  A deep scratchy voice filled the Bridge.

  “THE SENSORS ALSO REPORT THAT AT LEAST ONE AND POSSIBLY TWO INTRUDERS HAVE ENTERED OUR CITY. THEY ARE TO BE APPREHENDED AND BRO
UGHT TO PUNISHMENT CENTER C-7.”

  Paul Loring and Dave Andrews had been appraising the area where the James K had landed. Finding nothing they moved over to the lake. The water was quite tranquil, and they could see green plants swaying below the surface. Again finding nothing they headed back to the space pod. Not seeing the Captain and Lieutenant Shasta, Paul and Dave walked along the narrow path that they had earlier seen the Captain go down. Up ahead they could see a large steel grey stone formation standing at least eight feet tall. As they approached the boulder they saw two bodies on the ground clad in UGC uniforms. It was Captain Stoner and Lieutenant Shasta. They were dead.

  Josh Stoner and Wayne Shasta pressed themselves flat against the shiny silver wall and held their breath. A number of heavily armored guards hurried down the main corridor, their huge metal batons throwing flashing reflections on the walls and ceilings. Still pressed along the wall, Stoner and Shasta inched their bodies along the corridor. They stopped at every door and tried the knobs. Everything was locked. As they approached the end of the small tunnel a trap door in the floor of the tunnel jumped into view. Shasta pulled up on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Stoner joined in the struggle, but the round trap door wouldn’t give an inch. They could hear footsteps and voices in the distance. As the two Gladiator officers tugged on the door, the voices got louder. Suddenly there was a creak. The circular door had moved slightly. The two men now attacked the door savagely. The voices were getting closer.

  “The detectors report intruders down this pathway,” boomed the voice of a not too distant guard. “Standby. The order has been given to flood the tunnel with gas.“ A blue mist seemed to seep through invisible pores in the ceiling.

  The trap door moved some more. With a strength he didn’t know he possessed, Stoner gave the door one final tug and it easily slid open. The two dove through its opening as the blue gas floated down through the air. Working together they slid the door back into place as the footsteps and voices raced by.

  Wherever they were now was surely not paradise. A putrid stench filled the air, and a stream of stagnant water reached up to their kneecaps. Shasta flinched as the cold oily water seeped through his nylon uniform and clung to his legs. They were in some sort of underground channel, a sewer.

  ”I think I’m going to be sick,“ announced Shasta. It was the first words either had uttered since the announcement over the loudspeaker.

  Josh glanced at the Lieutenant and realized that he wasn’t joking. He looked awful, as if he was fighting an urge to throw up. ”It isn’t all that bad down here. Try to hold up. I certainly don’t need a sick officer right now.“

  ”Yes, sir.“

  Josh had a lot of admiration for his young officers particularly Wayne Shasta and Keith Hampton. Both were dedicated spaceship officers with good heads on their shoulders. Sometimes Josh was scared at how intelligent and capable they were. Lord knows, he wasn’t that good when he was first starting out. Stoner knew that if things went right either of the two could go on to be the next captain of the Gladiator. He also knew that for these reasons he always came down harder on Shasta and Hampton than any other officers aboard ship. He demanded above average performance from them at all times. It was quite common for Stoner to reprimand either one for an error or slight imperfection that would be overlooked in anyone else’s case. Of course, this resulted in resentment, and Stoner had heard the gossip that said he was always picking on Shasta and Hampton. He knew that his two young officers felt ostracized, and they felt a mild hostility toward him. But one day they would understand and respect him for what he had done.

  ”Let’s start walking. Maybe we can find a way out of here,“ Josh suggested. Shasta was right. This stench was turning his stomach also.

  They walked in silence.

  The smell is getting stronger, Wayne thought to himself. And I’m feeling sicker. I need to throw up so badly. Damn, Stoner. He’s always so strong and so right. Me, I’m always doing something wrong. Gulp! Shasta quickly brought his hand up to his mouth and swallowed hard.

  ”You OK?“ asked Stoner.

  ”Fine, sir,“ said Shasta trying to shake off another wave of nausea. I feel like such a sissy, Shasta thought. If I chuck up in front of Stoner, I’d just die on the spot. He’d have me doing KP for weeks. Gulp!

  They continued to walk in silence. After what seemed like hours they came to the end of the tunnel. There was no where else to go. We couldn’t have come to a dead end, Stoner thought. They searched the area, pushing through piles of ashes and soot but found nothing.

  ”Well,“ said Stoner. ”I guess we start back and try the other end.“

  Shasta gave a sickly, ”Yes, sir,“ and took off in the direction they had just come from. He had gone about twenty yards when something brushed him from behind. ”Sir?" He turned around to see a host of armored guards dropping from the ceiling through a circular trap door. The two Gladiator officers were outnumbered six to two. Stoner drew his zip gun and fired at an oncoming guard. The shot ricocheted off the guard’s metal breast plate. Before Stoner could fire another shot, a guard grabbed his wrist and applied pressure till Stoner, racked with pain, dropped the zip gun.

  A large bodied guard with short black hair applied handcuffs and foot chains to Stoner and brought the Captain around to face a huge fellow who was obviously the leader of this little gang. Alongside the leader, Shasta was still putting up a fight. The bully he was struggling with gave him a punch in the abdomen and another chap came up from behind with a karate chop to his neck. Shasta collapsed and slipped down under the stale greasy water. The two guards who had knocked him down, then pulled him up out of the water and stood him up on his feet. It was at that point that Shasta could hold it in no longer, and he bent over and vomited. The tunnel filled with a roar as the six guards burst into a barrage of laughter. As Shasta straightened up, Stoner could see the embarrassment flood the young officer’s face, and he watched as Shasta made sure to keep his eyes riveted to the water.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  May 26

  The mood was somber in Dave Andrews’ quarters. He and Dr. Loring were rehashing the events of the last few days.

  “One of the things we don’t know,” said Andrews, “is what exactly the Tradians were told about the Brisula Project Plans. When Wilcox called he simply said that the Tradians knew about our plans for Brisula. Did they know we were thinking of establishing a pharmaceutical research center? Did they know it was for researching Xanthommatin? The Captain and I assumed that they knew all of this.”

  Goodness gracious, Paul thought to himself. I knew there was going to be a research center, but I had no idea it was going to be used for experimenting with Xanthommatin. Josh had not told me that. Would that mean that Shasta, Hampton, and Glenna most likely were not informed either?

  “Dave, do you think everyone in the landing party knew all the details of the Brisula Project Plans?”

  “Well, yes. I assume that Josh filled everyone in.”

  “You know, Josh did not approach the landing party as a group as he normally would. He talked to each of us separately.”

  “Paul, you are right!” exclaimed Andrews. “Josh may not have told Shasta, Hampton, and Glenna about the drug research center. If that is true then maybe the Tradians did not have all the information when Wilcox contacted us.” He stopped, looked straight at Paul Loring, and said, “But if they did have all the information, then besides you and I and Josh, who on the Gladiator knows about the true plans for Brisula?”

  The day was finally over. Ensign Glenna flopped down on a patch of hay and stretched out her tired limbs. God, how I ache, she said to herself. I wish I was dead. Keith dropped down beside her. She had grown quite fond of Keith in these past several days. The forwardness he had shown that day on Brisula’s surface had disappeared and was replaced by a very sensitive and somewhat shy young man. She looked forward each day to the hour when they were allowed to talk. If it wasn’t for that hour, she’d never have made i
t this far. Now she looked at Keith. His beautiful light brown hair was matted with mud and straw. He had a streak of black, probably gravel dust, running diagonally across his face.

  “Keith,” she whispered in his ear, “we’re going to get out of here.”

  He gave a weak smile, patted her on the head, and whispered, “Sure.”

  A new day would begin in six hours.

  Dennis Pearson rolled over removing Diane’s arm from his chest. Something was wrong. Andrews and Loring had returned from Brisula with the bodies of the Captain and Shasta. No fuss was made over these two recent deaths. Loring and Andrews acted as if nothing unusual had happened. Instead of mourning the death of the Captain, they were organizing a search party. This team would attempt to dig through the earth in hopes of finding an underground tunnel or path or cave.

  Pearson hated being kept in the dark. After all he was second in command now. He slipped out of bed and tiptoed over to the closet. Diane had had a rough day, and he didn’t want to wake her. So instead of putting on the lights, he just groped around in the closet trying to find his robe. Finally he located it. As he headed for the door he stubbed his toe on a nearby chair, one of a pair of green and beige sofa chairs in the den area of their quarters, causing him to let out a sharp “Ow” and causing Diane to jump up and switch on the lights.

  “Denny, where are you going?” she asked. Her eyes were still bloodshot. She had taken the death of the Captain quite badly.

  “I’m just going over to ask Andrews something. I’ll be right back.” He kissed her gently on the forehead, tucked her back into bed and turned off the lights.

  “What the hell is going on?” yelled Pearson as he busted into Commander Dave Andrews’ quarters. Andrews and Paul Loring were hunched over a desk. There were crudely drawn maps of Brisula spread out all over the desk top. Apparently the two were working out a strategy plan for the excavation party. Both looked up at Pearson.