chapter 12
A SNEEZING FIT
Pavel backed Ethan’s chair around the corner. They’d been out of the guard’s line of sight, but Brian Wallace had almost assuredly
seen them. Pavel and Ethan could hear Wallace as he blustered through a tale of four monstrous lads in the building.
“I owe them credits,” said Wallace. “They agreed to let me stand guard in exchange for my debt so long as I asked no questions.”
The guard, facing away from the hidden pair, spoke over a com-link. Pavel couldn’t make out his words.
“You can’t put me in a re-education facility,” pleaded Wallace. “I’m due to be four-bodied in just a week. Please don’t turn me—”
“Silence,” shouted the officer.
Brian complied, except for a series of sneezes and apologies.
Pointing behind them, Ethan whispered, “That way,” and sent the chair zipping back down the corridor.
“Using brief bursts only,” said Ethan, “I am going to reactivate vid feeds throughout the building so that I can direct us along a safe
route. Chair control is shifting to you. Do you understand?”
Pavel looked down and placed his hands over controls just where someone might guide such a chair along from behind. “Got it,”
said Pavel.
“Down this corridor and take the second left,” ordered Ethan.
They flew along the corridor, Ethan calling out directions, Pavel steering flawlessly through a veritable maze of rooms and halls and
corridors. The swift turns added to the nauseating quality of the situation; Pavel knew what happened to lawbreakers facing secures
in red armor. Lucca had considered it good dinnertime conversation.
Seeing an exit ahead, Pavel breathed a sigh of relief.
“No!” Ethan cried in a harsh whisper.
Pavel heard, but he’d already gunned the chair to the beckoning door with its promise of liberty. They soared across a wide
breezeway and a shot echoed beside them. The door was a mere handful of meters away.
“I’m good, I’m good,” called Pavel, meaning to reassure Ethan about the shot as he sped toward the door.
“Turn back!” cried Ethan, not keeping his voice low this time.
“The door’s right here,” Pavel said, bringing the chair to a sudden halt before their access to freedom.
“There are guards on the other side,” Ethan replied tersely. “Turn us back around.”
“They’ll shoot at us again,” replied Pavel.
“They will not. They are racing to join the others out of doors. Two already await our appearance with raised weapons.”
“Got it,” said Pavel, spinning the chair back and heading at a high speed down the hall once more.
“Right here,” said Ethan, his voice pinched.
Years of habituation to the sounds made by the injured caused Pavel to look down at his companion. Blood seeped along Ethan’s
shirt from a wound to his upper arm.
“You were shot,” gasped Pavel.
“Correct,” replied Ethan. “Turn left here and then left again.”
“You okay?” It was the question of a friend and not the question of a trained medical professional.
Ethan responded with a direction to turn right and then said, “I will require medical attention presently.”
“Shizer, man,” said Pavel. “I’m so sorry.” The wound was his fault. He should’ve listened to Ethan’s “No!” but he’d seen that door. He’
d seen escape. Or thought he had.
“Around the next corner,” said Ethan, “We should encounter the secure who is holding Brian Wallace. I believe you installed an
overdrive booster on this chair? I suggest I engage it to allow us to use the chair as a ramming device.”
“I got nothing better,” said Pavel.
But as they rounded the corner, Ethan’s hand upon the overdrive control, they saw the red-armored officer standing with his hands
held up in surrender, Wallace beside him holding the guard’s gun. It was too late to slow Ethan’s chair; they crashed into him and the
guard toppled and did not rise again.
“Took your bloody time, eh, lads?” asked Wallace as the chair came to a sudden halt beside him.
“How did you …?” asked Pavel, staring at the downed officer.
“I manufactured a sneezing fit,” replied Wallace. “Made m’self appear weak. He lowered his guard, and, well …” Wallace pointed at
the weapon he clutched, grinning. “Now then, there were four secures outside, but when I snuck a peek a moment ago, they were re
-entering the building. Now’s the time to make a break for it, lads!”
“Sit,” ordered Pavel, pointing to the area of Ethan’s chair intended as a footrest. “And hold on tight.”
Brian Wallace raised an eyebrow. “Thank ye, but I’ll stand,” he replied, stepping onto the footrest and gripping the arms of the chair
with all the dignity he could muster.
“Ethan, re-engage the chair’s overdrive,” said Pavel.
As they blasted out of the building, Brian swearing up a storm, Pavel heard the sound of a large craft. This time it was no commute
cruiser. A sleek black ship hovered just over the edifice.
Pavel cursed and aimed the hoverchair back beside the satellite facility, hugging the building as he pushed forward.
“Lad, the ship’s that way,” said Brian Wallace, pointing to the side.
“I know,” said Pavel, “But Lucca has strict disincentives for anyone in Red Squadron to fire upon buildings in Budapest. The
government looks weak if buildings go up in smoke here in the capitol.”
“Sounds like our Chancellor,” muttered Brian.
There followed several tense seconds as Pavel raced across the street. Sure enough, just as they dashed across to hug another
building, a small missile was directed to where they’d been a moment earlier, striking the middle of the street.
Pavel swerved to avoid flying debris.
“Give the ship the order to open the hatch now,” Pavel shouted to Ethan.
The door remained closed and it looked as though they might crash into the side of their getaway vehicle, but at the last second, the
door engaged and the three shot inside, coming to a jarring halt.
“That was cutting it close, Jaarda,” shouted Pavel.
“Figure of speech,” murmured Brian Wallace.
“Everyone hold on to something now,” said Pavel. He’d already rumbled the ship to life, the hatch still closing. Pavel lifted off and
turned his craft sideways to hug the buildings once more.
The secures’ craft, bulky and deadly, took chase at once, firing as Pavel brought his ship alongside the facility they’d just fled.
A smattering of armaments flashed past, missing Pavel by centimeters, piercing the roof of the satellite facility.
“Shizer!” called Pavel. “Hold on!” Pavel pulled the ship away from the exploding building, up into a straight climb that would have
been impossible in his aunt’s ship. Then, looping over and swerving off to the left, he engaged the ship’s powerful thrusters.
“Ethan’s eyes just closed,” Brian shouted.
“Wallace, take over for me here!” called Pavel, jumping up from the pilot’s seat and dashing to the back of the craft.
Brian struggled to pull himself forward and then assumed command of the helm, flying the ship swiftly, outrunning their pursuers.
Another powerful blast sounded from behind them and Brian veered hard to port.
“Hey,” cried Pavel. “Trying to treat a patient back here!”
“Apologies,” returned Brian Wallace. “Trying to avoid missiles up here. There now. We’re out of range. Treat away, lad.”
“Come on, Ethan, wake up,” muttered Pavel. “I made a promise to keep you safe, man.” He ripped the seal on a med-patch and
slapped it on Ethan’s forearm, then grabbed a length of skin-seal and applied pressure to both an entry and an exit wound. “Come
on, man, wake up. Wake up.”
Ethan’s eyes fluttered and opened. “Pavel,” he said softly.
“You’re going to be just fine,” said Pavel to his patient. Then he turned his attention to the front of the ship. “Get us somewhere safe,
Wallace.”
The dirt-brown ship pulled to starboard as Brian Wallace said, “Aye-aye, sir.”
“The satellite facility,” said Ethan. “I thought I saw …”
“Yeah, man, I’m sorry,” replied Pavel. “It’s toast.”
“Not a literal description, I assume?” asked Ethan.
Pavel thought about the flames engulfing the building they’d just fled. Toast sounded about right. “No,” he said. “Not literal. But the
building’s gone, just the same.”
“That will render my task impossible,” said Ethan. Then he closed his eyes, a pinched look upon his face that Pavel didn’t think
came from wound pain.
Pavel felt terrible. Could he have flown the ship differently? Probably. “I just didn’t think they’d fire on a building,” he said at last.
“Lucca will kill those guys for blowing up a building in the city limits. They know that.”
Ethan’s eyes closed for several minutes. Pavel checked his vitals. His body would be fine. But his mission? What would it do to
Ethan’s mental health? At last Ethan reopened his eyes.
“Pavel,” he said, “I believe it is time for me to consult with my remaining crew. Might we visit Harpreet next?”
Brian Wallace turned back, an eyebrow raised.
“Please,” said Ethan. “I require her advice.”
Pavel nodded, heartsick for his mistakes of the last ten minutes.
“Oh, I do love a good rescue,” said Brian Wallace, rubbing his hands together with childlike delight. Then he punched in the
coordinates of the “New Timbuktu Gold Processing and Re-educational Center for the Retirement of Criminals,” Harpreet’s last
known place of residence.