"They think it came from around here."
"Do we show any equipment running that would do that?"
"No, sir."
Stark sighed again. Did he have to hear about every dead fly that hit the ground?
"Are there any thunderstorms on your radar, tech?"
"Yes, sir. About eighty klicks southwest of here."
"There"s your answer. Probably lightning hit something and screwed up a
reading. Tell Bogi station we didn"t take their juice."
"I copy that."
"And don"t bother me unless something concerning prison security comes up,
understand?"
"Yessir!"
"Discom." Stark dropped the comset back on the table and rolled over onto his
back. He hated this place. If he didn"t get out of here soon, he was going to be
talking to the G.o.dd.a.m.n walls.
By all human standards, the Zonn would have to have been insane. Maro found himself not on the other side of the Zonn wall, as he had expected, but in a world of madness. There was a wall behind him, to be sure, but it reached up out of sight. Ahead of him lay a landscape of twisted columns, moving hills, and glowing blue lights that surged and faded, bright and then dimmer, all overlaid with a swirling gunmetal blue fog. He shifted his feet, and sparks danced under his boots.
He had not expected this. The walls were stable energy fields, that much he had surmised, holding the astral patterns of their ancient builders. He had expected to have to deal with them, as he had done in the Zonn chamber. But this... what- and where was it?
His first reaction was to turn and retreat back into his cell. He held that feeling in check. No, this was supposed to be a test, and only the first part of it had worked.
Scanner"s cell was exactly sixty-nine steps to the right of his own. He had paced it twice, to be sure. He need only take the proper number of steps in that direction and he would be behind Scanner"s cubicle. He should be able to walk through the Zonn wall in the back of the other cell just as easily as he had his own.
Might as well get moving, he thought.
He heard a voice cry out then, a ghostly yell, and he nearly dropped the dematerializing device. He caught it quickly. Wouldn"t do to break that-it was his only way out of this nightmare. The voice came again, but fainter, and he felt a sense of relief. He had fought the Zonn demons before and won, but he wasn"t sure he could do so again under these circ.u.mstances. He did not want to try.
Moving with great care, Maro walked. He counted the steps aloud, his voice sounding hollow and far away.
"... Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine."
He stopped. This ought to be it. Scanner had said he would keep clear of the back wall. Maro pointed the device at the infinite cliff before him. The solid-looking wall swirled as it had before, and it was with a feeling of immense relief that Maro stepped through.
And found himself in the hot night air, next to the main wall, outside the Cage.
Maro fought a sense of panic. This was impossible! The main wall was several hundred meters from his cell at the closest, and in another direction entirely!
After a moment, he calmed himself. Okay, so the walls have some kind of higher dimensional aspect to them. Fine. We can deal with that. Might even make things easier. We"ll all get to my cell, take sixty-nine steps, and end up outside. He grinned. This odd Zonn construct was going to be just what they needed! The test was a success; he could tell Scanner in the morning. Right now, however, he needed to get back to his own cell.
He stepped back into the Zonn dimension. A swirl of fog blotted the blue lights for a moment, but he turned and paced off the proper number of steps back to his own cell. Still grinning, he stepped through the wall.
The grin died as he sucked in a quick breath. He was in the duty room! Just ahead of him sat the night guard, his back to Maro, watching an entertainment vid on his holoproj. The guard must have heard something, because he started to turn. Quickly, Maro spun and leaped back into the wall.
His heart pounded, and his breath came in quick, short inhalations. What had happened? He had counted the steps correctly, he was sure of it! But he was at least fifty meters off!
Maro looked at the shifting landscape, the swirling fog, and suddenly knew: the usual rules didn"t apply here. Somehow, this side of the wall had changed in relationship to the other side.
How was he going to find his way back to his own cell?
The screen started to blink on the DM unit. He looked down at it. Uh-oh... the power reserves were down to 47 percent. How many more crossings could he make?
Could he draw more power in here? He tried, stabbing at the yellow b.u.t.ton, but the level remained unchanged. So much for that idea.
He considered options. He would cross back into the prison, hide the DM, and hope for the best. They"d want to know how he got out of his locked cell, however, and that might put a big crimp in the escape plan. No, there must be a better way, but he couldn"t keep blundering around much longer looking for it. Pa.s.sing through the wall five times had used almost half his power; that meant he might have five more shots before winding up stranded. If only there was a way to get into his cell from the other side...
Wait. He had an idea. It depended on whether or not the wall had shifted to another place behind him. If it had, it wouldn"t work. But if that guard was still there, there was a chance.
The guard was still there, still watching the holoproj. Thank the G.o.ds for that! Maro put the device down quietly, and walked up behind him. There was a pressure point on the neck, and a nerve junction... he chopped down hard with his right hand, at the same time stabbing with the open fingers of his left. The guard slumped over onto his control unit, unconscious. He would wake up sore and with a headache, but there wouldn"t be any way he could know who had done it.
Maro studied the controls for the cell doors, set the timer, and unlocked the block admit and his own cell. He picked up the device and hurried down the dim corridor. If anybody saw him, they didn"t say anything. He opened his door and moved inside, closing it behind him. Ten seconds later he heard the electronics snick! as his door relocked. He had made it! He felt a surge of triumph. The test had worked-partially, anyway-and he had overcome the glitches and made it back.
But his joy faded fast when he looked across the corridor and saw Berque smiling at him.
"I saw what you did," Berque said. "Take me with you when you go."
Chapter Fourteen.
Stark glared at the holoproj floating over his com unit. "I"ll be there tomorrow," Karnaaj said. "I trust you will have some results for me?"
Stark made his grin as wolfish as he could. "In fact, yes. I"m checking on the information even as we speak. I have a source who has learned several things from Maro that might interest you."
"Really?" Karnaaj seemed surprised, a fact that absolutely delighted Stark.
"Yes. We have our methods also, Commander."
"I hope so, Warden. Tomorrow at 0900, then." Stark leaned back from the com, feeling less confident. True, the InfoNet had told him that the name Maro gave to Berque did in fact exist. There were several dozen Tweels being checked, some of whom had criminal activity tied to them. Deeper investigation would no doubt reveal the proper man-or woman, if that was the case. The material on the bankers from Muto Kato was less satisfactory, it being such a broad subject to investigate, but it was progressing as well as could be expected at this point.
Now that he thought about it, something in Karnaaj"s astonishment bothered Stark. It was as if the SIU man did not expect to actually learn what he purportedly wanted to know from the smuggler-turned-killer. Stark frowned. Something rang atonally here.
It wasn"t just Karnaaj"s reaction. Other things, little things, had been happening that bothered him. The destruction of his cooler, for example; several circuits had been stolen, although, according to his computer, it would take a genius to figure out a way to use them to make any kind of killing weaponry. And one of his guards had claimed he had been attacked last night, though there was no way it could have happened. No prisoners were missing from their cells, and all guards were accounted for according to the work plates. Stark suspected that the man had simply fallen asleep and had tried a poor excuse to cover it. There was a bruise on the man"s neck, but that easily could have been self-inflicted.
It made him uneasy, though, that such odd things were happening. Maybe it was time for a full-scale security sweep, time to see what had been acc.u.mulating in the cells. There was always something-drugs, weapons, something-and it had been a while since he had shaken the place hard to see what would fall out. Yes. Before Karnaaj got here in the morning, he would run a check.
"I thought you"d bought it," Scanner said to Maro. They stood in the shade of the cafeteria annex, along with Raze and Chameleon. Sandoz was within earshot, but far enough away to seem to be standing alone.
"I thought so myself, for a while," Maro said. "It worked, but not quite as well as I"d hoped." He explained, also telling them about Berque. They listened carefully.
"So, does that mean we go or not?" Raze asked.
"Yeah," Chameleon put in. "it sounds like Deltian roulette, with full charges."
"We still go. It makes it tougher, because I can"t come to every cell to get you, but I"ve got some ideas about that. I can get out of my cell, and if we work it right, you"ll all be in one place so I can collect you."
"How do you plan to manage that?" Sandoz said, his voice pitched just high enough to carry to them.
Maro grinned. "You are all going to get sick after lunch. So are about twenty other prisoners."
"What are you talking about?" This from Raze.
"Food poisoning," Maro replied. "Somebody cooked a bad batch of something for lunch today."
"What about Berque?" Scanner asked. "I trust him as far as I can fly naked
through hypers.p.a.ce."
"We don"t have much choice. Somebody needs to stay with him every minute, in case he decides he"d rather make points with the warden than risk his neck with us."
"Where is he now?" Sandoz asked.
"Sick bay. I"ve got Fish watching him."
Raze said, "That"s a lot like asking a wolf to watch a hyena."
"Fish wants out and Berque might screw it up," Maro said. "If Berque bats an
eye at a guard, Fish will kill them both. And Berque knows it."
Chameleon shuddered. "Fish is crazy. I don"t trust him, either.""
"We don"t want too many of us getting sick at lunch," Maro said. "That"s two
less, since they"re already there."
Silence followed. n.o.body looked particularly happy about Berque and Fish, but
like Maro said, there was nothing to be done about it.
"I"m glad for you," Juete said into her com. Inside, she felt cold. He would be leaving, and she would not.
"I"ve gotten Scanner to pinpoint your location," Maro said. "I know where you are. There"s only one guard to the isolation cells."
"I appreciate it, Dain, but the risk-"
"-is one I"m willing to take. I"ll come for you, Juete. Be ready."
"Dain, you don"t have to-"
"Hey, it isn"t up for debate. You go. Period."
In her cell, Juete smiled, despite the tears that had started to flow. He was
coming for her. That meant something, even if they failed. It meant a lot.
The emetic was easy enough. It wasn"t a drug likely to be abused much, and the inmate medtech also owed Scanner a favor, which made it easier still. A deal was made, barter was done, and the tech had a one-shot hall pa.s.s straight from the computer, issued courtesy of Scanner.
Maro dusted one tray of a bean salad while Sandoz distracted the server. If the man noticed, he didn"t say anything. The members of the escape group all took servings of the salad, though all were careful to stir it around and not eat any of it. The drug was harmless in itself, but its consequences were not pleasant to experience.
An hour after lunch, the first prisoners began vomiting. Food poisoning was relatively rare, but it had happened enough so that the guards thought they knew what was happening. Thirty-two prisoners were admitted to the infirmary for treatment, including Raze, Scanner, Chameleon and Sandoz. Most of the sick inmates were released, but a dozen of them seemed ill enough to remain overnight. Only six of them really were.
Maro returned to his cell in the late afternoon. Three cells away, a brace of guards were tearing up a mattress, searching for contraband. A sweep. Maro"s gut twisted. There was no place to hide the DM gear, and no way to get it out without being seen. They were dead.