Logic's End

by Keith Robinson

  "We must hurry," Tarrsk said worriedly. "I heard the guards saying that the games will be starting soon, and we are sure to be the main attraction. It will not be long before they come for us."

  Rebecca knew that if she was going to guarantee their cooperation, it had to be now while she still had leverage. "How do I know that you will not leave me behind or kill me after I free you?" she asked, putting more confidence into her voice then she actually felt.

  Without bothering to translate, Sikaris merely stared at her for several moments with its deep, probing eyes. "You do not know. You will just have to trust us."

  "That's not good enough, Sikaris," she countered. "You have to give me a reason to trust you."

  "You will never make it on your own," the feline alien stated matter-of-factly, the distortion in its voice making it difficult to understand.

  Rebecca didn't back down. "And you know we don't have much of a chance, anyway."

  Sikaris was again silent, as if measuring her sincerity. Finally, the Grinathian leader responded, its simple statement catching Rebecca completely off guard.

  "If you help us escape, I will tell you who created you and your people."

  For several seconds, Rebecca was paralyzed with shock. Could he really know? No. It has to be a trick. But still, what if...

  Rebecca took her time collecting her thoughts. The others, growing tired of waiting, had begun to prod Sikaris for an explanation for the delay.

  Just as Sikaris had begun to translate, she called back to it, breaking into its conversation midstream. "Nice try, Sikaris, but it still doesn't give me any way to hold you to your promise. If I help you escape, you must help me get my ship back."

  The large cat alien stared at her through the curtain of darkness that separated their cells. In the dim light that filtered down from the grates in the ceiling, Rebecca thought she saw the slightest hint of a smile cross Sikaris's features. Turning toward the others, it translated her demands.

  "What?" Tarrsk said in exasperation. "We cannot. His ship would be in the main hangar. It will be heavily guarded. It would be much easier for us to try to steal a transport."

  "But they would catch us in a transport. My ship could fly us to your base much quicker. Also, its advanced weapons technology could fend off any attack," she lied. "And," she continued, baiting her trap further, "Breuun would reward you for returning with such a prize."

  It took several minutes for Sikaris to translate and for the four aliens to discuss her plan, leaving Rebecca time to formulate one of her own. Once we're off the ground, I'll pilot the ship out of the atmosphere. They'll then either have to kill me and try to fly an unknown ship through an atmospheric entry or return to Earth with me. Even with all the scientific community wanting a piece of them, I should be able to convince them that their lives would be better off on Earth than here.

  "All right, we will try to escape in your ship," Sikaris said at last. "Tarrsk says that he knows a way we can access the hangar that your ship is in without being noticed."

  "Good," she replied simply, although within her she fought to contain her excitement. "Let's get out of here." Igniting the small laser cutter, she set to work on the locking mechanism of her cell door. Within thirty seconds, she had severed the lock, allowing the door to swing freely. Gritting her teeth in anticipation, she quickly opened her rusted cell door just enough to squeeze through, wincing at the blaring sound of the neglected hinges.

  "Quickly!"Tarrsk whispered anxiously. "They may have heard."

  "Shut up!" she snapped back, nervously cracking her right knuckles on her leg as she prepared to work on their cell door. Breathing deeply to calm her shaking hands, she set to work on the lock.

  Each second that passed saw her tension build exponentially until she felt the muscles in her body begin to ache from constant use. "Come on, come on." She urged the machine quietly.

  Finally, she felt the telltale release of the cutting blade as it sliced through the last centimeter of metal. Stepping away from the door, she shut off the laser as the others opened the cell door and quickly filed out.

  "Now what?" Rebecca whispered to Sikaris.

  Without hesitation, Sikaris took a deep, rattling breath and resumed its command of the small party of hunters. "Cut Prin's binders off."

  Being careful not to slash open Prin's wrists in the process, Rebecca made several surgical slices that allowed the ferret creature to remove the bracelets. Flexing its three good hands to revive the circulation, it smiled as tiny blue sparks shot forth from the tips of its fingers, like small firecrackers ready to explode.

  The sudden sound of the outer prison door opening sent Rebecca's heart into her throat. Sikaris reacted instantly by grabbing Rebecca's laser cutter as the lights in the corridor flared to life. Igniting the tool, Sikaris reached up and sliced open a deep gash in the piping that ran over their heads. Immediately, a torrent of water fell onto the floor in front of them.

  "Everyone, back inside," Sikaris shouted hoarsely.

  They had barely managed to reenter the cells when eight Torlig guards burst through the inner prison door and spilled into the hallway, weapons at the ready. Upon seeing the broken pipe, the guards paused in confusion.

  Their hesitation cost them their lives. Extending its hands between the bars, Prin touched to water-soaked floor. Suddenly, blue sparks lit up the prison hallway as Prin sent a blast of high voltage energy into the rapidly expanding puddle. The Torlig guards began to convulse violently as the energy was transported through the water and into their bodies. Within seconds, the entire group of guards lay unmoving on the hallway floor.

  "Quickly now," Sikaris said. "Grab their weapons."

  Rebecca picked up a large pistol from the nearest alien and smiled. It felt good to be armed again.

  Tarrsk led the way through the outer prison door and into the guard room, where they encountered several more Torlig. Caught by surprise by the liberated prisoners, they were quickly mowed down by the Grinathians' newly acquired weapons.

  Moving fully into the room, Tarrsk ran quickly toward the center table where several objects lay in a clutter. "Good. They have not yet moved our translators."Passing out the devices, the group paused long enough to put them on and power them up.

  Prin, however, seemed to be perturbed, looking around the room as if in search of some important lost artifact. Finally, it looked toward Sikaris. "Where is the rest of our equipment? Our packs, weapons, and...other items?"

  Tarrsk shrugged. "The scientists are probably studying them. Who cares about that now, anyway?"

  Prin looked concerned. "Sikaris," it said, placing a clawed hand on the tall creature's arm. "Rebecca's recording device had much information about Clan Grinath. Breuun will be mad to hear that the Torlig now have it."

  The cat alien stared down at the Grinathian scientist. "We cannot worry about that now. Besides, Breuun will not find out about it, will he?"

  Reaching up to brush the pocket of her jumpsuit that contained her journal, Rebecca's mind flashed back to the Modir Cave, the image of Prin's shadowy form hovering over her bag suddenly taking on new meaning. Now that she knew why the alien scientist was interested in her journal, it made her all the more thankful that she had hidden it when she did. It would become invaluable if she managed to make it back home.

  "This way," Tarrsk called as it disappeared through a doorway to her right. Sikaris was next to follow, then Rebecca, Prin, and finally Rysth-nuul.

  They moved as quickly and quietly as possible down the featureless stone hallway until they came to a flight of stairs that ascended to a metal door. "Wait here," Tarrsk said. Opening the door, their guide slipped silently through the portal. After a brief inspection of the area beyond, Tarrsk waved them through.

  "We are lucky. Most of my clan are in the arena, so we should not meet anyone," Rebecca overheard Tarrsk tell Sikaris as it led them down the corridor.

  They hadn't gone far when Tarrsk stopped outside a nondescript door. Sign
aling that they should wait, it slipped inside. As they stood nervously in the hallway, half expecting a contingent of Torlig to round the corner at any moment, they could hear the sounds of a brief struggle coming from the other side of the door. A second later, Tarrsk reappeared and waved them inside.

  They stepped into what looked to Rebecca like some sort of boiler room or utility closet. Several large cylindrical machines were spread out in rows around the area and thick pipes extending from their tops to form a maze over the heads of those standing on the floor. Steam and hot gases escaped from valves and hatches in various locations, causing the temperature and humidity in the room to escalate to stifling levels.

  On the floor just inside the doorway, two dead slaves lay in a heap, obviously the result of Tarrsk's handiwork.

  "This way," it said as it began a rapid ascent up a ladder mounted against the wall. Rebecca stared at the rickety ladder with trepidation. It was clearly overused and in desperate need of repair. Rysth-nuul was inclined to agree. "You want us to climb that thing? It looks like it could collapse at any minute."

  Sikaris, halfway up the ladder, barked down at its pessimistic companion. "Have it your way. Good luck finding another way to the hangar."

  Rebecca cracked her knuckles and grabbed the first rung. If it will hold Sikaris..., she thought. Taking a deep breath, she hauled herself up. When she reached the thin catwalk, which hung nearly forty feet above the floor and ran the length of the room, Sikaris and Tarrsk were already deep in discussion.

  "Yes," Tarrsk was saying. "I used to repair these pipes. This access way follows the entire piping network under the floors of the base."

  Rebecca followed Tarrsk's gaze toward the far wall, where the catwalk upon which they stood ended. The pipes, however, continued on through the wall with enough space between them and the ceiling for a single being to crawl.

  "Let us go then. We do not know how much longer it will take them to find that we are missing."

  Leaping onto the nearest pipe, Tarrsk began crawling expertly into the maintenance hole. Sikaris was quick to follow, its broad shoulders nearly brushing the sides of the narrow passage. Rysth-nuul had finally reached the top of the ladder as Rebecca was preparing to mount the pipe.

  Suddenly, over the roar of the hissing steam and rumbling machinery, the unmistakable sound of a door opening could be heard. Freezing in her tracks, Rebecca looked down toward the room's entrance to see a small group of three slaves huddled together over the bodies of their dead comrades. The sight of blood on the floor sent them into a frenzy. Looking around the room nervously like caged animals, they turned and quickly fled through the door, disappearing into the hallway beyond.

  "Go!" Rysth-nuul said, spurring Rebecca on. "It will not be long now before they come looking for us."

  Needing no further prompting, Rebecca mounted the pipe and set off into the darkness of the access tunnel.

  Once they were through the wall, the service way opened up wider, allowing any Torlig repair workers the freedom to climb underneath any of the pipes to affect repairs. For Rebecca and the others who lacked the ability to cling to smooth surfaces, the prospect of falling off the large pipe onto the tangles of wires, hoses, and conduits containing who knew what was an ever present concern. Nevertheless, they crawled on in near darkness until Rebecca had lost all track of time. Finally, Tarrsk brought them to a halt beneath a three-foot-square hatch.

  "We are here," Tarrsk said as it performed a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn on the pipe to face them. It waited until Rysth-nuul and Prin had caught up, then began its description of what awaited them above. "This will take us into the southwest corner of the hangar that Rebecca's ship should be in. The main hangar door leading outside is on the north wall, but the controls to open it are among the machines along the western wall. In the center of the south wall are the main entrance doors that connect the hangar to the base. There will be guards posted outside them, so we must try to lock them manually before the scientists inside the hangar raise the alarm."

  "Rysth-nuul and Prin, you will lock the doors," Sikaris said in its raspy voice. "Tarrsk and I will fight the scientists and open the hangar doors. Rebecca, get your ship ready to fly."

  "I...I can't do it by myself," she stammered. "I need at least one of you to help with all of the pre-launch procedures. It isn't difficult, but it would take me much longer to do it by myself."

  Sikaris considered for a moment before replying, "Rysth-nuul, you are more familiar with piloting machines, so you will help Rebecca." Sikaris coughed into its shoulder to muffle the sound and then continued. "Prin, you will have to lock the doors by yourself. Are there any questions?"

  If there had been any, there was no time to ask them, for suddenly the blaring sound of alarms could be heard throughout the base.

  "They have discovered our escape!" Tarrsk said nervously.

  With one mighty kick from its powerful legs, Sikaris sent the hatch above their heads flying into the hangar. Leaping up out of the service way, they found the Torlig scientists looking around in confusion at the sound of the alarm. Upon spying the intruders suddenly standing between them and the exit doors, they immediately bolted toward the main control consoles on the western walls. Sikaris and Tarrsk, being the first out of the crawl space, set off in hot pursuit.

  Rebecca waited as Prin leapt out before her, then she and Rysth-nuul quickly climbed out. Pausing momentarily to take in her surroundings, Rebecca's heart swelled with excitement at the sight of the Vanguard sitting majestically on its wheeled landing gear in the center of the large hangar, its sleek nose pointed toward the eastern wall. In front of the ship, almost out of view from their rear side vantage point, sat some kind of crane-like vehicle. Scattered throughout the rest of the hangar were what Rebecca assumed to be various equipment storage containers and diagnostic tools.

  "Where is the entrance hatch?" Rysth-nuul asked beside her, its voice strained with tension.

  "On the right side," she said, pointing toward the hatch even as she began sprinting in that direction. A moment later, she stood before the access panel, breathing heavily from excitement. She had finally made it! With trembling fingers, she punched in the code. As she waited for the boarding ramp to lower sufficiently enough for her to enter, she scanned the outer hull of the ship for signs of intrusion or damage.

  Her heart stopped suddenly as she examined more closely the crane vehicle in front of the ship. "Tarrsk! Sikaris! It's still connected!" she shouted toward the pair of aliens who were engaged in battle with the scientists who had turned to fight them. Sikaris glanced briefly in her direction and nodded in confirmation.

  "Let us go," Rysth-nuul urged. "Let them worry about it."

  Heeding the snake alien's advice, Rebecca led the way into the ship. Had it not been for the desperateness of the situation, she would surely have broken into sobs at the familiar sight and sounds of the vessel. However, with her mind focused only on the task of getting the ship into the air, she brushed aside all feelings and thoughts of home.

  Making their way into the cockpit, Rebecca began issuing instructions to Rysth-nuul. With some difficulty, she struggled to remember everything she had learned in her cross-training piloting classes taken seemingly ages ago. Praying that she wouldn't forget some crucial step, she began flipping switches and priming the engines for flight while at the same time attempting to instruct her alien copilot in the basics of piloting the unfamiliar spacecraft.

  "Come on, come on," she repeated to herself, cracking her knuckles nervously as the hum of the engines warming up slowly grew in volume and intensity. Looking out the window, she saw that Tarrsk was running rapidly toward the rear of the Vanguard, while Prin, who had successfully locked the hangar's main entrance, had returned to help Sikaris finish off the last of the scientists, many of whom surrendered rather than try to fight off the attackers without weapons.

  An enormous thud echoed throughout the hangar as the Torlig guards attempted to break through the ma
in doors. Almost simultaneously, the floor beneath her rocked back and forth, nearly sending her tumbling over one of the command chairs. After a brief moment of panic, she realized that the sudden motion must have been due to Tarrsk releasing them from the grip of the crane vehicle. We might actually make it! Now if only Prin and Sikaris would hurry up and—

  Her translator sprung to life, interrupting her thoughts. "Tarrsk, the scientists managed to damage the controls. We cannot open the hangar door. Do you know if—"

  The transmission was abruptly cut short by a mighty explosion that erupted on the southern wall. Before the smoke had even cleared, several Torlig warriors poured through the opening like water bursting forth from a crack in a dam.

  "What are you waiting for?" Rysth-nuul shouted. "Use the weapons from the ship!"

  "I...I lied. It doesn't have weapons," she yelled back in exasperation. She picked up her stolen pistol and ran back toward the open hatch.

  "What?" Rysth-nuul hissed. "Where are you going?"

  Once she reached the entrance ramp, she opened fire at the Torlig guards with her pistol, drawing some of their attention and giving the trapped Prin and Sikaris a much-needed reprieve. Rebecca noted with despair, however, that with each passing second, another Torlig hunter would slip through the breach formed by the explosion, further diminishing their chances of escape.

  Sikaris and Prin, coming to the same conclusion, rushed out from behind the console and made a desperate dash for the ramp of the Vanguard, hoping that Rebecca's covering fire would provide enough distraction for the ever-increasing number of Torlig.

  Rebecca's arm ached from the constant jolting of the large weapon built for a Torlig claw, not a human hand. Ignoring her pain, she sprayed fire relentlessly, trying unsuccessfully to stem the advance of the hunters, like a fisherman plugging a leak in his boat only to have two more open beneath him.

  With her clip depleted, she quickly slammed her last stolen supply of ammunition into place as Prin and Sikaris ducked behind a storage container, almost halfway to the ship. She resumed firing, noting as she did so that the number of Torlig fighters had grown to nearly a dozen. As much as she wanted to help Prin and Sikaris, she knew that if they didn't make it in the next few seconds, she would be forced to leave without them. If Tarrsk manages to get that blasted door open! she added.