Captivity

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Captivity Page 26

by Maureen Toonkel


  Keith stepped forward. As his right foot touched the wooden planks of the pier, sparks began to fly. Electric currents coursed through Keith’s body, and he screamed out in pain as he collapsed. Josh stretched his arms out as far as he could. Being careful not to step onto the dock he managed to snag Keith’s left arm. The electricity transferred from Keith’s arm into Josh’s hands. He quickly dragged Keith back to the shore. Josh could feel the electric shocks subsiding in his hands. Keith’s body stopped jerking, and he lay perfectly still upon the ground.

  Oh, please don’t let him be dead, Josh thought as he put his ear on Keith’s chest to hear if his heart was beating. He couldn’t tell. He picked up Keith’s arm and placed his thumb on the Lieutenant’s wrist. Please, please let there be a pulse.

  Suddenly Keith’s eyes flickered open, and he moaned. He sat up. “Sir,” he murmured.

  Josh dropped Keith’s arm. “Don’t ever give me a scare like that again,” he snapped.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” said Keith sheepishly. He began rubbing his arms and legs.

  “Are you all right?” asked Josh with concern in his voice.

  “I think so, sir.” Josh assisted his officer to his feet.

  “Well, we can’t use the pier to reach the ships, and we can’t swim out there,” said Josh. “I wonder how we can—”

  Keith interrupted him. “The dinghies!” he yelled.

  “What?” said Josh.

  “You know sir. That closet we slept in that was full of dinghies.”

  “Lieutenant, you are a genius!” He patted Keith on the back. “Do you think you can make it that far, or do you want to wait here, and I can go alone?”

  Keith said that he thought he would be able to make the trek, and the two officers headed south down the 11 Passageway.

  The pungent smell of the Gravel Disposal contaminated the tunnel as the slaves approached the H Lane. The loudspeaker suddenly blurted out:

  “ALL AVAILABLE PERSONNEL TO SILVER MINES IMMEDIATELY!”

  All at once there was a rush of activity in the corridor. A group of guards bolted out from the disposal unit. They halted momentarily when they saw the gang of slaves with raised shovels. Without pausing further they hurried past the slaves heading for the Silver Mines. Wayne Shasta could hear more guards running toward them from the eastern tunnel. He waved for the slaves to follow him as he dashed into the Gravel Disposal. The air was heavy with dust, and the smell was overpowering. Along the left side wall were a group of slaves. Some were using flat screens to sift through the gravel and dirt. They sorted through the huge mounds separating the gravel, the dirt, and the occasional gold fragments. Others were hammering piles of gravel to form finer and smoother pebbles. Still others were scooping up the pebbles and placing them in shipping cartons. This work detail looked over at Wayne’s group of slaves in wonder.

  “Let’s free them,” shouted Wayne as he tried rubbing the dust out of his eyes. Joban, who was coughing uncontrollably, began searching for the keys that would unlock the leg irons that chained the slaves to steel loops that were bolted into the concrete floor.

  It was useless. The keys were no where to be found. Joban and Wayne surmised that the guards had taken the keys with them when they rushed out.

  “I promise that I will come back for you,” Wayne told the slaves. “But now we must continue our march to freedom. I will not forget you.” A cheer went up, and Wayne bowed to the crowd. He turned just in time to see Fabiana crumple to the ground. Her face looked green with nausea. The smell had overtaken her. Wayne could certainly empathize with her. He walked over to where she lay.

  “Fabiana, don’t fight it. Just let it out. Don’t be embarrassed,” Wayne gently told her. She looked up at him with wide opened eyes. Then she opened her mouth and began vomiting. When she was done Beverly and Joban helped her to her feet, but the vomiting had zapped her of all her energy. She was very weak and wobbly on her feet.

  “You will need to go on without me,” she said. She sounded sickly and frightened.

  “Nonsense,” answered Joban. “I will not leave without you.”

  “I will stay here and wait until you come back for these slaves. Wayne promised to come back.”

  “I am sure that Wayne hopes to keep his promise but who knows how long that will take. And you are sick. So I will stay here also.” He gently guided Fabiana down to the ground and then sat down alongside her.

  Wayne came over and sat down also. He had overheard their conversation. He had developed strong feelings of friendship and respect for Joban and couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him behind.

  “How about if we go back to the Medical Lab and ask Dr. Loring to help Fabiana?” Wayne suggested. “There are some handcarts there along the wall. We can take turns pushing Fabiana.”

  Joban stared at Wayne. Fighting back tears, he nodded and said, “Some day I will find a way to pay you back.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” answered Wayne as he and Joban helped Fabiana to her feet. Wayne told the crowd of slaves about the plan to return to the Medical Lab. He told the slaves to continue traveling north. They would all meet up at the Boulder Entrance.

  The group left the Gravel Disposal. Wayne again promised he would return for the shackled slaves. Pushing the wobbly handcart that Fabiana was sitting on, Wayne along with Joban and Beverly headed south down the 4 Passageway. The rest of the slaves continued east along the H Lane.

  It was going to be tricky as they would need to sneak past the Silver Mines where all the guards had rushed off to. Just as they were about to come up to the entrance to the mines, an onslaught of guards rushed out and headed down the E Lane. They were going so fast that they did not notice Wayne and his company coming down the 4 Passageway on the left. With a sigh of relief Wayne led them past the Silver Mines. He could see the tail end of the parade of guards rushing down the E Lane. Wayne continued pushing the cart straight ahead stopping momentarily at the next intersection to make sure Joban and Beverly were still behind him.

  Traveling down the empty tunnel they followed Wayne as the tunnel curved to the left. After a short walk they were at the Medical Lab. Joban held the door open, and Wayne pushed the cart through. Dave Andrews was still lying on the gurney, but Dr. Loring did not seem to be anywhere in sight.

  Dave stirred, and Wayne realized he was now conscious. “Are you alright, sir?” asked Wayne. “Where is Dr. Loring?”

  Andrews tried to sit up, but he fell back. He struggled to find his voice. Finally he said, “I heard him tell someone he was going to the Communications Station.”

  “I think that is down the road from the Gravel Disposal,” said Beverly. “I remember seeing it on a sign.”

  “I am sure he will be back to check on Commander Andrews,” inserted Wayne. “We can wait here for him.”

  Dave Andrews again tried to sit up, and this time managed to do so. He turned his body, so that he could dangle his feet over the side of the gurney. His right wrist was handcuffed to the bed, so he could not sit up completely straight.

  Still finding it hard to speak he said. “I’m not sure if we can trust Dr. Loring.”

  “What do you mean, sir?” both Wayne and Beverly asked simultaneously.

  Dave slowly began to speak fighting to get the words out. “We came here to look for you and the others. We entered through a large boulder. On the other side of the boulder two guards were there to meet us. It appeared that they were waiting for us. I remember that there was a stretcher with what appeared to be a body draped with a white sheet. Paul peeked under the sheet, and he said something strange to one of the guards. It was so odd that I didn’t think I heard him correctly. It sounded like he said, ‘It looks like you got the message about the underwear.’ The guard said that he did. I was grabbed by the two guards, and they shoved me to the floor. Paul removed a syringe from his belt pack. He must have injected me as the next thing I remembered was waking up on this bed. He gave me another injection, and before I passed out I hea
rd him say he was going to the Communications Station.”

  “That sounds crazy, sir,” said Wayne. He immediately realized how that comment came across and quickly added, “I don’t mean that you are crazy, sir. I meant that Dr. Loring’s behavior is very strange indeed.”

  “Sir, what does underwear have to do with anything?” asked Beverly.

  “I probably did not hear that correctly,” answered Andrews. He surveyed everyone standing around the gurney. “Where’s the Captain?”

  “Sir,” said Wayne. “We should go. I don’t think it is a good idea to be here when Dr. Loring returns. I will tell you about the Captain while we are on the move.”

  Beverly held the door open, and Joban pushed out the cart with Fabiana. Wayne followed behind pushing the gurney. They headed north again. This time they went east at the intersection. At the next crossroads they came to a sign.

  “I think we should go north. We might be able to slip into the hospital and find something to help Fabiana and Commander Andrews,” suggested Wayne.

  Their pace had slowed down considerably. Keith was not yet fully recovered. His right foot had taken the burnt of the electricity, and he was walking with a pronounced limp. But he was determined not to let Josh Stoner know the extent of the pain he was enduring. I managed to make a fool of myself once again, he scolded himself. First I made that childish remark about wishing that Beverly was here. The Captain probably thinks I had sex on my mind instead of concentrating on our situation. Then I go and almost get myself electrocuted! I just hope I redeemed myself a bit by remembering the dinghies.

  “Ouch!” he winced. A residual bolt of electricity shook his body as a sharp pain traveled up the length of his leg. He stopped and leaned against the wall.

  “Should we rest for a moment?” asked the Captain. He could see that Keith was struggling to hide his discomfort. He admired Keith’s devotion to their mission and the resourcefulness he was showing.

  “No, sir. I am fine. We need to keep going.”

  They walked in silence. Josh had decided that they should continue along the 11 Passageway down to the E Lane. This he felt would be a safer and faster route especially since all the guards had been called away. They passed the still deserted Deliveries and the Greenhouse. Eventually they came to the Blue Zone. The door was still ajar. Keith ducked in quickly. He checked to see if the lever for the blue gas was still jammed. It was.

  A large sign hanging across the next junction said

  Josh and Keith took the tunnel leading to the right. They crept slowly down the tunnel keeping very close to the wall. Suddenly there was a stampede of people coming toward them. It was a gang of guards. The group slowed down when they got to the Dispatch and then they all filed into the office.

  Keith could see the now empty hallway, and he heard the door slam shut as the last guard entered the room. Treading carefully, Keith approached the Dispatch office. In his hands he was holding the length of rope that he had taken from the gymnasium storage closet. Using the rope he tied one end to the doorknob. He then swung the other end over a loudspeaker mounted slightly to the left of the front door. Grabbing the end as it floated down he tied it tightly to the doorknob. Another stabbing pain shot up his leg, and he lost his balance causing him to bang into the glass door. The guards inside turned and stared at him from the other side of the door. They raced to the door trying to pull it open. The rope stayed securely in place.

  Josh and Keith crossed the tunnel and pried open the small hatch. Josh boosted Keith up into the chamber. Keith grabbed one of the orange boats and handed it down to Josh.

  Wayne Shasta and his followers were about to leave the E Lane and take the north tunnel to the Hospital when an onslaught of guards came roaring down the tunnel. Wayne, Beverly, and Joban had no choice but to join the crowd. Otherwise they would have been trampled. They ran along with the procession, pushing the cart and gurney. As the pack began to slow down, they too reduced their pace, falling back until they were at the end of the line. The guards all ran into an office up ahead. Joban turned the handcart around and headed off back toward the tunnel that led to the Hospital. Beverly who was holding two shovels followed behind him. Wayne started to spin the gurney around when two figures caught his eye. He gasped.

  “Joban, come back,” he called softly.

  Wayne watched the two figures. One was using a rope to tie the office door shut. Then the two men went over to a small door in the tunnel wall. Wayne let go of the gurney and raced down the hall.

  “Captain!” he yelled.

  Josh turned to see Lieutenant Shasta rushing toward him. He dropped the dinghy just as Wayne stopped and held out his arms. They embraced. Keith poked his head out of the chamber. A huge smile brightened his face as he caught a glimpse of Beverly running down the tunnel.

  “Looks like we will need more dinghies,” Josh shouted up to Keith. “Let’s load them up and get away from this area. We don’t know how long that rope will hold.”

  Keith passed down, three more dinghies. He then handed Josh eight oars and a small hand pump. Fabiana got off the handcart and climbed up on the gurney with Dave Andrews. Josh and Joban loaded the orange boats, oars, air pump, and all the shovels onto the handcart. With that done they headed east and got back to the 11 Passageway. Josh led them past the Blue Zone before stopping.

  “So,” said Josh, “how has everyone been?”

  Dr. Paul Loring sat at the computer desk in the Communications Station listening to General Platt ranting and raving.

  “I cannot believe how out of control things have become down here,” the General yelled. He was a bulky older man with curly grey hair and dark brown eyes. He paced back and forth as he continued talking in a loud voice. “The slaves have escaped, and they are attacking the guards. These Brisulans are so lame. They can’t even stop a bunch of weak defenseless slaves. Years ago I told the Council that it was impossible to train the Brisulans to be sentinels and policemen. As a race the Brisulans are peace lovers. They are low functioning and basically non-violent. They easily allowed us Tradians to rule over their city and make them work for us. But they are so incompetent. They enjoy living in a backward world. Without our presence they would still not have electricity. We installed the force fields at the market place and the Greenhouse, otherwise these people would still be using the primitive locks and gates that are abound down here. If it were not for all the commerce we obtain from this underground hovel, I would just walk away and never return. But we take in a lot of capital from the sale of the wild animals, gravel, gold, and silver. And of course from the selling of slaves. The Brisulans love spending their wages on the exotic wares we supply them with for their stores. The cut we get from their market place revenue is tremendous. Even the Wealthies who own the establishments and have personal slaves would be nowhere without us. They are terrified of us. They know that without us and the slaves, this city would be useless.”

  Platt stopped pacing and turned to face Paul Loring. He pointed his finger straight at the doctor. “And you, you have been a major disappointment. Those Gladiator fellows have been nothing but trouble. I could not break them, not even the girl.”

  “Why is that my fault?” asked Loring.

  “You should have gotten the information we needed.”

  “I did. I originally told you and the Council that the Gladiator was going to Brisula to determine if the planet was suitable for human life. And when I learned that they were hoping to use Brisula to build a research center for Xanthommatin, I told you that also,” said Paul staring straight back at the General.

  “And I informed you that the Council believed that there was more to that story than meets the eye. There are thousands of well equipped research centers already established on Earth and across several galaxies. Why would the UGC need to build another center on a remote planet like Brisula?” General Platt’s cheeks puffed up, and his face glowed with a red rage. “If you had done your job and found out the true plans for the Brisula Pro
ject then we wouldn’t have had to bring those crew members down here. Now they have orchestrated an escape and stirred up the slaves.” He waved his arms violently through the air.

  “Look, you were only supposed to capture Hampton. The duplicate bodies for the rest of the crew were only to be used as props to get Hampton scared, so he’d talk. It was never in the plan to imprison the Captain. Josh Stoner is not one to go down without a fight. If he has stirred up trouble it’s your own undoing. As for the incompetent Brisulans, you were foolish not to have Tradian Army guards stationed down here. Besides, if you had stayed here on Brisula you would have been able to keep things in order,” responded Paul angrily. “

  “I can’t stand this place. I spend as little time as possible in this dreadful hole in the ground.” Platt slammed his fist down on the rickety desk. Paul reached out to steady the computer as it shook from the force of the General’s blow.

  “Boom. Thump. Clang. Thud.” There was some commotion out in the hallway. Paul and General Platt stepped outside. A mob of slaves were marching down the tunnel armed with shovels that they were tapping against the silver walls and metal floors. When they noticed the General emerging from the doorway they began chanting, “Down with the General! Down with the General!”

  The slaves began closing in on the two men who were standing motionless outside the Communications Station. General Platt took off running down the tunnel. Paul followed. The slaves chased the men down the H Lane. Platt turned north and continued running. The slaves were gaining ground. General Platt crossed over the Traffic Corridor. Paul was behind him. Before Dr. Loring could make it across the lane several shovels came down on his head. He crashed to the floor. The gang of slaves left Paul on the ground as they continued to pursue General Platt.

 

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