“Well,” said Amanda, “it turned out to be very dangerous.”
“Yes, but is the spy trying to protect the crew,, or is the spy scared that we will uncover something in the lake, like a clue to finding the entrance to the underground?”
“I knew the lake was important,” remarked Jackson Greene.
“You were right. The lake is key. Therefore that is another reason why Dave Andrews is not the informant. He would not knowingly send divers down to a booby trapped lake. I believe this also eliminates Jackson Greene from any suspicion since he would not have steered us toward exploring the lake if it held the answer to our quest.”
“With that being so, where does that leave us?” asked Diane.
“What do you make of message number twelve?” replied Dennis. No one responded, so Dennis continued. “It is the last message that we intercepted before Dave and Paul returned to the planet below. Obviously the spy is targeting Dave and reporting on Dave’s underwear.”
“Underwear?” commented Jackson. “It doesn’t say anything about underwear.“
“Ah, but it does. Aren’t briefs underwear?”
“That’s silly,” remarked Jackson Greene. “I think briefs are referring to a report of our plans to return to Brisula.”
“Keep in mind that Andrews was wearing pink briefs when Amanda performed the autopsy.”
“Yes, but that was not really Dave Andrews. Obviously, whoever made the fake body didn’t know what color underwear Dave would be wearing,” added Amanda.
“OK. To summarize, we have eliminated Dave Andrews and Jackson Greene. We also are pretty certain that the spy is not Keith Hampton, Wayne Shasta, Beverly Glenna, or Captain Stoner. And Amanda Rugan was never considered a suspect.” Everyone in the room nodded in agreement. “That leaves Diane Pearson, Paul Loring and me. I believe that I can safely say that Diane is not the spy. Dave Andrews was wrong. I checked the Brig data logs and Diane was not released from the Brig until 0900 on June 1, therefore she was still incarcerated when message number four was sent.
“I would like us to take another vote as to who we think is the traitor. Base your vote on these messages and everything else we may know about the spy.” Dennis paused to allow for comments, but there were none. “Diane, set up the ballots as we did before.”
Diane used Jackson Greene’s laptop again. Then one by one the four officers went over to the computer and placed their votes. Diane printed out the four ballots and handed them face down to Dennis. He turned the first one over and read, “Dennis Pearson.” The second one said, “Dennis Pearson.” The third vote was for “Paul Loring.” Dennis turned over the final ballot. It was blank
The Captain and Lieutenant Hampton began walking down the 7 Passageway. They used a leisurely gait so as not to attract attention. There was less foot traffic once they left the area of the stores. They were headed toward the School on the G Lane. Josh noticed two Brisulan guards approaching them. He lowered his eyes staring at the floor in order to avoid making eye contact.
“Halt!” commanded the shorter of the two guards. “Where are you going? And why are you dressed so strangely?”
“We are on our way to Dispatch,” answered Josh. “We need to report that two escaped slaves attacked us as we were on our way to the market. They stole our clothes.”
“Where did the slaves go?” asked the taller guard. His face lit up with anticipation.
“They went that way,” said Josh pointing to the west. The two guards rushed past the officers heading north up the tunnel.
Josh smiled at Keith and motioned for them to continue south. They picked up the pace and actually ran down the corridor. Once they had passed the tunnel leading to the School they stopped to catch their breath.
“I can’t believe that they actually bought your story that the slaves stole our clothes,” giggled Keith.
“It was the only thing I could think of at the spur of the moment,” commented Josh. Then he too began to laugh. “That was sure a lame story,” The two officers continued laughing. Tears strolled down their cheeks, and they sunk to the ground holding onto their stomachs.
Finally Josh stopped laughing. “We need to compose ourselves,” he said wiping the tears away with the sleeve of his gown.
“Yes, sir,” responded Keith rising to his feet. “The F Lane should be coming up soon.”
As they approached the tunnel leading to the east they were startled by a loudspeaker hanging straight above their heads.
“ACTIVATE BLUE IMMEDIATELY! ALL FROM CAGE C HAVE ESCAPED,” came the announcement.
“Way to go!” yelled Josh. “C’mon, let’s enter the F Lane that way we only need to go straight. We will need to cover our eyes.”
They took a left turn. Then they removed their medical gowns and instead hung the white gowns over their heads just as the blue mist began descending from the ceiling.
Their steps were now slower as they walked blindfolded with their hands trailing the silver tunnel walls. They began to hear a lot of commotion up ahead. Josh surmised that they were approaching the Blue Zone. He and Keith stopped and flattened themselves against the wall. There they stayed until all was quiet up ahead. The two officers cautiously inched their way along the hallway. Abruptly the corridor ended. They could feel the gate going across the lane. As they ran their hands across the large gate, suddenly it opened. In their haste the guards must have forgotten to lock it. Josh and Keith stepped through the opening. The air smelled different on this side of the gate. Keith looked down at his feet and realized that there was no mist around his ankles. He removed his head covering. Josh apparently had done the same thing as he too was uncovering his face.
The area was deserted. Josh and Keith circled around looking at all the levers and controls mounted on the wooden boards hanging on the tunnel walls. With all the modern technology in the universe today, it was astonishing to Josh to see how primitive a lot of Brisula was. The gates were equipped with old- fashioned locks and topped with barbed wire. Antique switches and levers were in use and some areas were lit with torches. Yet there were force fields in the market, and apparently the Brisulans owned spacecrafts. They were able to produce fake bodies, but vintage computers were the only means of communications with the outside world. What an odd civilization, thought Josh as he continued to stare at the control boards.
“Sir,” said Keith taking Josh away from his thoughts. “I think I found which switch turns the gas on and off.”
“Really?” said Josh. “Can we shut it off?”
“Possibly,” answered Keith. “I believe it is this switch that controls the gas.” He pointed to a lever marked Activate. It was attached to the tunnel wall several feet above one of the wooden boards. The word Activate hung below the lever on a metal sign. The lever was in a raised position. Beneath it was a small hole. “I think that a cylinder type key needs to be inserted into the hole, and then the lever can be pulled down. Perhaps we can locate the key.”
The officers began searching for the key. They examined every switch and lever and looked behind every board, but they could not find a key.
“I have an idea,” Keith suddenly announced. “Can you boost me up?” Keith climbed onto Josh’s back. He lifted himself, so that he was standing on Josh’s shoulders.
“Don’t dance around up there, Lieutenant,” shouted Josh.
“I will try not to, sir,” answered Keith. “I need something to replace the key.” He reached into his canvas bag and felt around with his fingers. “I got it,” he yelled as he drew his hand out of the bag. He was holding the balled up piece from the bloody medical gown. He stuffed the material into the small hole and pulled down on the lever. Then he jumped down from Josh’s shoulders. Josh ran out of the gate and saw at once that the blue gas had stopped.
“You did it, Lieutenant!” shouted Josh. “What did you use?”
“Um, a piece of bloody fabric,” answered Keith blushing slightly.
“I’m impressed. That should help Sha
sta and Glenna and the rest of the escaped slaves. Let’s get going before we get caught here.”
They went out another gate at the other end of the Blue Zone chamber. Up ahead was an enormous fenced in section. There were deep ditches some as large as fifty feet wide. Shovels lay scattered about. There were slaves crouched on the ground with their arms covering their faces. A thick cardboard sign was attached with nuts and bolts to the iron fence.
Josh and Keith maneuvered around the lofty enclosure. They needed to squeeze their bodies between the tunnel wall and the fence. They finally emerged on the other side and took off running up the corridor. After a short run they came to a sign that read
“Salton was right,” said Josh. “This is the way to the Lake.
“Look,” yelled Beverly Glenna jumping up and running to the tunnel entrance, “the blue mist has stopped.” The crowd was aroused, and everyone was up and moving.
Wayne blew his whistle. “Grab as many weapons as you can,” he ordered. “Let’s form a line, four abreast. We will head east and then take the first tunnel to the north.”
The slaves formed an orderly procession and marched into the silver corridor. The tunnels were empty, and they proceeded easily. Soon they came upon the Punishment Center.
“This is where we were tortured,” commented Wayne to Joban and Fabiana who were walking alongside him and Beverly at the head of the line. His mind wandered back to the torture sessions he had endured. The only thing that had gotten him through them was his memories of Becky. She is probably worried sick that she has not heard from me for so long. I am so glad that Becky doesn’t know what I am going through, but I hate that I am causing her to worry about me. I have to make it out of here, so I can tell her that I am fine and how much I miss her. “I hope the Captain is not imprisoned here,.” he said out loud. He stopped and approached the first door, Punishment Center C-7. It was closed. Twisting the door handle revealed that the door was locked. There were no windows. Shasta went down the line trying the door knobs of each of the four Punishment Center chambers. They were all locked. He took his hand off the knob of C-10, walked back to the head of the procession and led the slaves up the hallway to the north.
At the end of that hallway the slaves took a right turn. Shortly they came to Food Service D-11. Several guards were posted at the entrance. As the guards moved forward toward the group of slaves they raised their whips. Wayne and Joban held up their shovels and stopped the slash of the whips. A group of slaves behind them rushed up and bashed the guards with their shovels. The guards were knocked unconscious.
Realizing that they could not go further by heading east, the slaves turned around and headed west. They called for Wayne Shasta to lead the way. A path was cleared, so that Wayne and his three partners could move to the head of the line. Eventually they came upon the Medical Lab.
“This is where I was taken when I collapsed in the gravel pits,” Beverly whispered to Wayne.
Wayne stopped. “I need to check to see if the Captain is in here,” he said. Again he grabbed the door handle. This time it opened. Wayne swung the door open and gasped. Inside there was a body lying on a gurney, and a man with a hypodermic needle in his right hand was standing over the body.
Dennis dismissed the committee telling them to go eat supper. He would call them back to the Conference Room later in the evening. After everyone left Dennis sat alone strumming his fingers on the wooden table. Why would anyone think he was the spy? How was he to proceed if his crew didn’t trust him?
He must have been sitting and thinking for almost two hours when the Conference Room door opened, and Diane walked in. She was carrying a tray with a bologna sandwich, a cup of chicken noodle soup, a bag of potato chips, some apple pie, and a bottle of Coca-Cola. She placed the tray down in front of Dennis.
Dennis nodded his head in a gesture of thanks. He picked up the cup of soup and a soup spoon. Diane sat down across the table and watched Dennis as he ate.
“How can you think Dr Loring is the spy?” asked Diane when Dennis had finished his soup and sandwich.
“Why do you think I voted for Paul?” asked Dennis. He twisted open the cap on the Coke bottle.
“You obviously didn’t vote for yourself. And I of course did not vote for you. That clearly means you are the one who picked Dr. Loring.”
“So, you are the one who placed the blank vote?”
“Denny, come on!” she cried. “Do you really think I would name you as our spy?”
“I suppose not,” said Dennis, “but why would Jackson and Amanda think I was the traitor?”
“Probably because of your question about Dave’s underwear, and the fact that you won’t tell us what you know.”
“I want to be absolutely sure before I voice my suspicions,” responded Dennis.
“OK. So, do you really think Dr. Loring is the spy, or were you just throwing in a red herring?”
Dennis laughed. “A red herring, eh?” He looked at Diane. Gosh almighty how he missed cuddling up with her and playing with her hair. “No,” he said, “I really am convinced that Paul Loring is our informant.”
“But why? That makes no sense. Dr. Loring is the Captain’s best friend.”
“I know. That’s what makes this so difficult.” He tore his eyes away from Diane’s hair and picked up a fork. “Do you want some?” he asked indicating the slice of apple pie.
“No, I already had some.”
Dennis ate several bites of the pie. Then he put down the fork and looked at Diane. “OK. I will tell you why I think Paul is the spy, but I want to keep it between us for now.”
Diane nodded her agreement.
“The other day when we were in the Messdeck and you left, I went over and sat with Paul and Amanda for a bit. Paul was being an ass. He ticked me off. On a whim I called him and made up a ridiculous story. I thought that if he repeated the story to Dave Andrews he would look like a clown. I would deny that I told Paul the story. It was stupid. I don’t know why I did it other than I was pissed at Paul and not very happy with Andrews.” He stopped and drank some of his Coke. “Remember, I was angry and not really thinking clearly. I called Paul and told him that I had just talked with Andrews, and Dave had confided something to me. I was so surprised at what Dave told me that I just had to share it. I told Paul that he needed to promise me that he would not tell anyone. I was figuring that Paul would actually spread the gossip. I was hoping that Andrews would get mad at Paul and accuse him of making up the story.” Dennis looked away from Diane and instead stared at the bottle of Coke. “I told Paul that Andrews was worried about going to the planet’s surface. He was going to wear his good luck skivvies. He had a pair of underwear that he once received as a gag gift, and he wears it when he needs extra luck. I told Paul that the skivvies were bright pink.” Dennis looked up at Diane’s face. She looked stunned. “It was a complete fabrication of course.”
“So Paul would be the only one who would think that Dave Andrews was wearing pink underwear,” said Diane. “Do you think he told anyone else the story?”
“I don’t think so. You know how the rumor mill goes aboard ship. A story like that would be all around by now. But I’ve not heard any whispers about it. Have you?”
Diane shook her head. “I just can’t believe Paul is a traitor. So what now?”
“The question is, if I am right, and Paul is the spy, where has he gone and what has he done with Andrews?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
June 5
Looking farther ahead they could see massive glass panels touching the tunnel roof. The tunnel was elevated in this area. They cautiously drew near the Greenhouse. Through the glass windows they could see rows of vegetable plants: tomatoes, lettuce, cabbage, radishes, and cucumbers. Tall trees bore apples, oranges, and bananas. Sprinklers hanging from the rooftop sprayed a fine mist of water onto the vegetation.
Josh estimated that it was almost midnight. The Greenhouse was closed for the night. There were no doors or gates at t
he entrance. Josh removed his canvas bag and swung it into the open doorway. The bag hit the invisible force field and bounced back.
“Let’s take a breather,” said Josh. “Seeing all that fruit and veggies has made me hungry.” He and Keith sat down alongside a glass wall and took out some of the bananas from their bags.
As he slowly chewed on bananas and savored the taste, Josh turned his thoughts to the Gladiator. How come no one has come to rescue us? Has the ship gone onto another mission? Have Andrews and Pearson really abandoned me? Have they left me stranded?
“Sir?” asked Keith as he carefully folded up the banana peels and stuffed them into his canvas bag. “Do you think they have given up trying to rescue us?”
He must have read my mind, thought Josh. He handed his peels to Keith. “I need to believe that they are still searching for us.”
“But wouldn’t they have found us by now?” replied Keith.
“Maybe. But perhaps they have not been able to find the entrance, or they can’t penetrate the boulder we came through. They probably have not found out that the Lake is also an entrance.”
“Sir, what if we get to the planet’s surface and no one is there? How will we be able to alert the Gladiator?”
“Lieutenant, let’s take one step at a time. Right now, let’s get back on the trail to the Lake.”
They left the Greenhouse and followed the 11 Passageway. It was a long hike as the tunnel slowly become steeper. Eventually the road came to a plateau. Coming from the corridor up ahead the officers could hear a lot of commotion. A large metal sign was swaying across the junction. It read
Josh and Keith crossed the intersection and tiptoed up to the metal door of the Delivery area. The door was slightly ajar, so they were able to peek in. It looked like a warehouse zone. There were wheeled wooden carts strewn around. Brisulan workers were loading boxes onto the carts. Josh could read some of the labels on the cartons: Candy, Towels, Pants, Sandals.
Captivity Page 24