chapter 22
IDEALLY SUITED
The guard shook his head at the stubborn door, still locked. “I’ll have to re-code it from the security desk.”
“Get on it,” said the officer in red. “Now!”
The guard scrambled along the corridor, leaving Pavel standing with the Red Squadron secure.
“What will you do with me?” asked Pavel.
“That’s up to the Chancellor,” replied the officer. “But I can tell you she’s not happy with you.”
“I’m ready to speak to her now,” said Pavel. Harpreet’s safety depended upon his ability to force the officer to leave with him alone. “
You will inform her at once.” Pavel’s voice, imperious, made the officer frown in indecision.
Pavel sensed a way to play his hand.
“My aunt will not be pleased if I tell her you delayed me from speaking with her,” said Pavel. This was probable and the officer
recognized it.
“Very well,” replied the secure. He contacted his team, apprising them of Pavel’s demand. Then he spoke to Pavel once more. “You
are to proceed with me to the prison’s holocomm.”
It was perfect. Pavel had gambled on his aunt’s vanity—her need to appear before him large as life as opposed to upon the screen
of whatever device the officer might have with him.
However, they did not get as far as the holocomm center. They did not get very far at all. After one set of doors retracted to let them
pass, the next refused to open. The doors at either end of the short hall remained sealed despite the secure’s best efforts at
opening them. When he requested assistance, he was told he would have to wait, due to an emergency which had arisen within the
prison.
~ ~ ~
Brian Wallace had awaited Ethan’s signal and was now making his slow way along corridors filling with ever-increasing numbers of
prisoners who had suddenly found themselves staring at open doors. Their cell-doors normally opened to release them for work or
food, so most ambled out into the corridor, looking back and forth for the guards who would accompany them at this unexpected
hour.
But no one seemed to expect anything from the prisoners at the moment.
“Doors must’ve malfunctioned,” they murmured to one another.
So when Brian Wallace came strolling along the corridor murmuring, “This way if ye please,” and accompanied by Kazuko Zaifa,
many fell in step behind him. Ethan’s voice, in Brian’s earpiece, gave the Scot precise directions leading him toward an exit from
the prison. Brian trusted Ethan would lead him away from any guards and danger that lay ahead; the group amassing behind them
was a sort of insurance policy against attack from behind.
But then, unexpectedly, Brian received a change of marching orders.
“Brian Wallace?” called Ethan’s voice from the earpiece.
“Aye, lad,” replied the fugitive Scot.
“It would appear Pavel has been unsuccessful in his effort to retrieve Harpreet,” said Ethan’s voice.
“She’s not refused again, surely?” asked Brian.
“No,” said Ethan. “Unfortunately Pavel has been apprehended by Red Squadron. They have recognized him. It is doubtful he will
escape and he has instructed us to depart without him.”
“I see,” murmured Brian, continuing along a narrow corridor.
“I am unwilling to depart without Harpreet,” said Ethan.
“I see,” Brian replied.
“I propose giving you directions to her chamber,” Ethan said.
“Aye, well, hurry it up then, lad!”
Ethan directed Brian and his growing entourage through halls and doors and in less than a minute, Brian was met by a blinking
Harpreet, newly emerged from her cell, which had unlocked seemingly of its own accord.
Unfortunately, at that moment, several guards managed to cut through a locked door leading to the corridor where the fugitives
gathered.
“It’s Harpreet,” said some.
“Guards!” cried others.
“Are we supposed to be following the man ahead?” asked others.
The answer came blaring over a loudspeaker system. “Prisoners are to return to their cells at once or face punitive action.”
From within the crowd, which shrank back from the approaching guards, someone took Harpreet by the arm and tugged her toward
the center of the huddle. She reached for Brian’s hand, Brian reached for Kazuko, and soon all three were at the center of a moving
mass of prisoners retracing their previous steps.
From behind, Brian heard cries of, “The detainee is not here. Her cell’s empty.”
“They’re after ye,” he murmured to Harpreet.
“Perhaps I am not meant to escape after all,” she said softly.
Beside her, one of the prisoners heard what she said and a soft murmur began trickling through the crowded mass.
Harpreet is escaping today.
This man and Kazuko Zaifa are helping Harpreet to escape.
Few were indifferent to the rumor. Either they were disposed to assist or afraid that the attempt would bring “punitive action” upon
them as well as upon the attempted escapee.
The mayhem increased.
~ ~ ~
Ethan had never been more grateful for the care with which Pavel had treated his once-gnarled hands. While not as easy to use as
the hands of his own body, these were responsive and rarely pained him anymore. Ethan felt a great deal of satisfaction as his
fingers flew along several panels. It was a sort of game ideally suited to his abilities.
Open doors.
Lock doors.
Look on surveillance feeds and determine which doors to open or lock next.
All the while he led Brian Wallace, Harpreet, and Kazuko Zaifa closer and closer to an exit.
Pavel, he felt less certain he could help.
But then an idea came to him. Perhaps he could play the door game upon multiple fronts? He rubbed his aged hands together,
cracked his knuckles once, and set to it.
~ ~ ~
From inside the corridor where he was trapped with the officer in red, Pavel despaired. For himself, at least. He believed Ethan
would be able to set the others free. But his little stint as an adventurer was about to draw to an end.
He was not happy at the prospect. But he was content that, among the five of them hoping today for freedom, he should be the one
left behind. It would never have done to leave Kazuko or Harpreet behind. Jessamyn would approve his action. He smiled at the
thought of the girl with red hair. And then he felt a deep ache as he realized he would never enjoy her approval. His aunt might not kill
or imprison him (he really didn’t know), but she would certainly never allow him any measure of freedom again.
He sighed heavily.
The officer beside him stood suddenly to attention, apparently in response to something over his private comm. “Yes, Madam
Chancellor,” he said. “At once, Madam Chancellor.” Turning to Pavel, the officer withdrew a pocket wafer, scanned his wrist across
it, and handed it to Pavel. “Your aunt wishes to speak with you.”
Pavel lifted his cuffed wrists, indicating with an added eyeroll the impossibility of taking the proffered wafer.
The officer hesitated for only a moment before releasing Pavel’s hands.
“My dear Pavel,” said Lucca, staring at him in miniature from the wafer.
Her lips were an unnatural red and pulled back in what was meant, he knew, to be a smile.
“Aunt Lucca,” he said, voice flat.
“I am so looking forward to an extended … conversation with you,” she said.
“About what?” he asked.
“Oh, this and that,” she said, tapping her forefinger to her chin. “I will be eagerly questioning you as to your whereabouts, of course.
And the identities and aims of your companions. One of them I believe I’ve met before. In Scotland, I think it was.”
He watched as his aunt moved during this speech, seating herself before what might have been a surgeon’s tray. That certainly
answered for him the question of whether his aunt was kindly disposed toward him after his extended absence. Upon the tray, as
she clearly intended, Pavel glimpsed a hypo-spray of Equidima.
Shizer! he thought. His aunt would make certain to use all means available to get the truth out of him. And he was useless under
Equidima.
His pulse quickened, but he was determined his aunt should not see his fear. “I look forward to our discussion, Aunt,” he said, his
voice calculatedly casual.
“Oh, I highly doubt that, darling boy,” said Lucca. She grinned once more, feral, and the image disappeared.