The Assumption Code

by Melodee Elliott

“Did you think you would achieve your new venture upon Earth?” Stavon asked.

  Holan looked away.

  “The orb, I believe,” Stavon continued. “No. The emanator,” he corrected himself. “Such an important object to give to a client, don’t you think? They could steal your technology. You wouldn’t want that.” He began to pace with a snap in his step.

  Holan stood and approached the barrier. “I was starting a business from nothing,” he said.

  “You were starting your business with my business.” Stavon bore into him. “You were to get new participants on Earth—to map their Paths, not obtain your own clients.”

  Holan stood firm.

  “Such liberties you took with my clients, subjecting them as your participants. Tsk.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Sorry for the bruise.” He motioned to a scrape on Holan’s forehead. “We usually have no occasion for such mishaps. People go willingly.”

  “Willingly.” Holan turned away and walked the small space. “Your clients deserved no better.”

  Stavon wheeled around. “And yours do?”

  Holan retreated to the bench and rubbed his hands across his thighs. “I was curious why my clients were losing their Paths. The extras.”

  “Unauthorized,” Stavon interjected.

  “Get on with it.” Holan lowered his gaze.

  “Don’t despair. I believe you have family somewhere. DanuVitro will make a donation to them. That’s quite fair considering.” Stavon continued, “Rivner will give the public a generous account of your contributions. You will be well thought of, I assure you.”

  “Rivner.” Holan snickered. “You think you know her.”

  “I know her better than she does.”

  Holan’s chuckling gave way to gales of laughter. He calmed his breath and looked upon Stavon from afar. “She is not Rivner. Her name is Margi Hall.”

  “From her New York City, is she not?” Stavon replied.

  Holan’s face reddened.

  “She has adapted quite well to Danu as I believe you will on Meno.” Stavon turned to the nearby console and ordered the transfer. Two men entered Holan’s room from a back door and strapped his arms behind him.

  Holan pleaded with the men but not with Stavon.

  They dragged Holan out of the room as he began to wail. Eventually the cries grew distant. Stavon left the room as the sounds faded to silence.

  * * *

  Margi had just finished a client tour when the receptionist handed her a scroll from Stavon. She unfurled it to read the note. Holan was found dead in his office—a suicide. She was to notify the family and write a press release.

  She felt dizzy with fear. She managed to find a quiet room and sat there to collect her wits. Suicide. She hadn’t expected such an act from someone so willful. Or was his death from another’s hands? What misstep had he taken to evoke such an act? One taken in such a short time of her plotting? She wondered if he had set her demise into motion and was all but dead herself.

  Then, anger struck—she didn’t know the whereabouts of her emanator back on Earth. He had taken it from her apartment. But had he placed it on a shelf with others like the personal belongings of victims in a serial killer’s secret room or did he have them in his new doctor’s office on display?

  She composed herself and left to complete her task. She didn’t want to notify the family. She wished Stavon knew better. This was no time for complaints or worries. The sooner she finished there, the sooner she could meet with Tolman.

  * * *

  Stavon entered the conference room where Loz and another man waited. “The time has come for this nonsense to end. I want a list of those at the root of The Ward. I don’t care who they are.”

  “Understood,” Loz replied.

  “And bring Rivner to me.” Stavon turned to the other man with a coldness that made his eyes the color of steel. “Burn Tolman’s studio to the ground.”

  The man acknowledged the order.

  Stavon rose from his chair and disappeared from the room.

  In a nearby lab, Rolo switched his earpiece to a new frequency and whispered, “Level one disband. Secure Margi.”

  * * *

  Margi was sitting behind her desk when a man burst through her door. She startled and backed against the wall.

  “Come with me.”

  She didn’t move. “Who are you?”

  “No time. Rolo sent me.”

  She started to say, “Who’s R—”

  He took her by the arm and pulled her out of the office. She attempted to keep pace so as to act as normal as she could. By process of elimination, the man couldn’t have been with Stavon nor Holan and so must be with The Ward. She hoped.

  Ahead of her, she saw three security officers at the far end of the hallway. One pointed at her and started for her.

  The stranger pulled her the other direction. He shouted into his communicator, then pulled her into another hallway. They went down the stairs and emerged into the agora. A sea creature dove at her as they rushed by almost knocking down another pedestrian as they went.

  They arrived at her landing pad where her driver was waiting. They quickly boarded and swooped from the sky. She looked back and saw the security men standing on the ledge.

  The engine whined as the driver tested its limits. She looked back and saw two hover cars in hot pursuit. The man next to her strapped her into her seat.

  The driver angled the car almost vertical and headed toward a slower stream of traffic above it. Margi gripped her straps to steady herself. They cut through the flow of traffic, dispersing the cars and causing their pursuers to veer off.

  She closed her eyes and breathed through the nausea of weightlessness. Her body levitated against her constraints and jerked to the side. The man next to her yelled out the positions of the cars behind them, and they spiraled downward and leveled.

  He laid a gun on her lap. His expression was stern—he wasn’t asking.

  The window retracted beside her, and wind whipped at her hair. She took hold of the gun and aimed it out the window.

  Stavon’s men kept pace with them as they angled between the structures and pierced the cotton-like barrier of a cloud and traveled within it until emerging into the light of day.

  The driver angled sharply away as a structure appeared before them. Margi felt her foot digging into the floorboard, attempting to brake.

  Her companion reached an arm out of his window and shot at the car that had risen to pace them from above.

  Margi released her harness and edged to the window. Her hair whipped into her eyes like a lashing. She squeezed her eyes shut a moment to lessen the sting and leaned out the window. Another car was shadowing them. She aimed the laser pistol like she had seen the others do and fired. A stream of green light shot out like a beam. The driver spiraled the car away from them but rose higher.

  She slid from the straps of her constraints and perched onto the ledge of the window, bracing her hip against the inside of the door. She leaned her back against the frame and into a half-reclining position to get a straight aim upward. Holding the gun with both hands, she fired again and again. The laser light energy hit the underside of the car, dispersing the beams across its surface. The car drifted lower and listed toward them and began to roll. A pod burst from the top as the driver ejected, floating in a bubble levitated by a faint energy field at its base.

  She looked for the other car and glanced downward. She saw a white flash, and an explosion sounded off as a fireball plumed from the street level. Its boom jolted their car.

  Her center of weight shifted to outside the window frame. For a split second her hand reached out to nothingness to brace herself. Thankfully, her other hand had gripped the backside of the frame as she dropped the gun to the floorboard. Her body recoiled into the cabin so fast that she slammed into the man sitting in the other seat. He didn’t flinch.

  She scrambled back to the window and peered down. She recognized the white building as Tolman’s s
tudio, now with its walls splintered across the holograms coursing over the street.

  “Tolman. We need to help him!” she shouted at the driver.

  He ignored her.

  The man next to her angled out of his window and fired repeatedly. The second car hung back, farther and farther, but kept on their trail.

  Her car lunged to a stop, causing her to topple to the floor as it spun sideways and coasted. She looked around her to gain her bearings, her mind racing to find a way to survive the long drop that was eminent.

  The man next to her crouched in his seat, facing the open window with his forearms braced on the door ledge like a sharpshooter and discharged his weapon. The distant car exploded and fell from the sky in pieces that fluttered to the ground.

  “We need to help Tolman!”

  The man beside her leaned to her. “Tolman can take care of himself.”

  Their driver angled sharply upward and raced from the scene. She watched Tolman’s building burn until they disappeared behind the structures.

  She leaned back in her seat and watched the men. They were as impersonal as she imagined those in a military operation would be. Her mind was still on Tolman. He would have been in his studio at the time, and maybe, Zarnel and Cam as well. These men either didn’t know or wouldn’t tell her if he was okay.

  A hand reached passed her to retrieve the gun from under her foot. She moved out of his way. The man beside her grinned at her. Margi’s posture softened. She had contributed to the cause at least to some degree and without throwing up or falling out.

  The driver merged with a stream of traffic and eventually came to a garage. The car was still in motion when someone opened her door and pulled her out, supporting her upright. He swept her into another car, and the driver took off. She would repeat this scenario two more times before arriving at a building and setting out on foot.

  Two men retrieved her from the car and ushered her to an underground tunnel similar to those she had ventured into with Tolman. Once inside, she felt him near, as if he were at her side like the first time she went there. She needed him and wondered if he needed her more or if he had passed on to the ether where needing anything was nostalgia relegated to the living.

  The tunnels split. They continued into a smaller one. One of the men stayed behind as the other urged her to hurry. Minutes later, the man at the rear came running toward them, yelling to move out. He shielded her as a distant blast hurled rock and dust toward them.

  “Keep going,” he said.

  The deeper they went, the air cooled with an organic scent of musty dankness. Tree roots broke through the overhead concrete and trailed to the ground where they would one day penetrate.

  She looked ahead and saw two armed guards at a large metal door.

  One stepped forth and opened it as soon as they approached. Both of them stared at her, but not menacingly, for which she was thankful.

  She stood tall and kept an eye on every passing detail. This was The Ward. She was sure of it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The room beyond the doorway was reminiscent of a bunker. Its domed ceiling was anchored by greenish brick arches branching off at various points along its perimeter.

  The men who entered with Margi separated from her, leaving her to stand alone in front of thirty-plus people waiting, watching her as they sat on various worn and torn furniture and long-forgotten vehicles somehow stranded there. She felt like that, too.

  A man approached her, walking slowly, respectfully. “Margi. Hall.” He voiced her name as if in two distinct sentences, making her feel as if she was supposed to already know something, but she didn’t.

  “Where’s Tolman?” was all she could say.

  “Tolman?” he said, turned away, then glanced over his shoulder at her.

  Margi scanned the reactions of the others.

  “Are you The Ward?” she asked.

  “Yes, we are. And this is good for you?” the man said, questioning her.

  She didn’t respond, instead eyed him as he did her. His face softened. The manner with which he carried himself made known that he was in charge. However, he appeared approachable given the right circumstances. She didn’t know the price of such entrance but not cowering seemed to be in the right direction. This was the man who would orchestrate her return to Earth, to her home and her own body. That is, if she brought about the fall of the DanuVitro empire. This price to pay may bring about her death in the attempt. She was tired of being the pawn as yet another player in this game of DanuVitro. She needed more assurance to determine if The Ward was good for her.

  “I understand that you are committed to our cause,” he said. Again, the hint of a question lingered behind.

  “I am.”

  “This way,” he said and ushered her through an archway.

  She followed him through the gap opening in the group. The individuals looked like those she had seen in the streets, of every profession and age, not the heroes they would probably need to be. She felt the weight of their mission as they stared at her.

  She glimpsed Cam sitting atop a decaying truck with several kids of similar age. She glanced among the others, in hopes that Tolman sat safely somewhere in their midst. He didn’t.

  She followed the man into a room. Those who had led her there guarded the door.

  “My name is Byn,” he said. “Have a seat.”

  Margi looked at the two sofas and various chairs scattered about and chose a nearby, austere chair.

  “It is not to your standard, I presume, nor on Earth, I suspect.” He had a comforting confidence in his voice that was assured. She felt that she could trust him. Perhaps that was his decoy from what she should see at hand. He was toying with her, inviting her to take heed, without being presumptuous of stature.

  Byn took his own seat and continued. “I hear you are to exploit a weakness in Stavon. Have you?” The question was outright this time.

  “He has many, but I’m not sure they are ones I can exploit.” Her voice waned. She thought of the kids outside of the room and the future that they might face. A future she was to deliver to them. Either good or bad, but never both.

  “You cannot return,” he informed. He kept his attention on her.

  The gravity of his words cornered her thoughts. She could not escape Stavon. Not only could she not return to the penthouse, she could not return to Earth, and possibly not even the Kalgare section with its Great Venue. Stavon could find her anywhere, possibly even in the bunker.

  “Stavon for Earth,” she replied.

  “Yes,” he said. “You understand The Ward.”

  “I do. DanuVitro must be brought down.”

  “The idea of DanuVitro must be brought down and with it anyone contributing to its survival,” he corrected.

  “Agreed.” The pit in her stomach grew as her mind emptied of any proactive thought.

  She stared into space in search of any lead. The room was quiet, waiting, waiting for her to give the plan to change their lot in life.

  Byn sighed heavily. “Very well, then. I’ll meet with my advisors, then you’ll give us a debriefing on all you know.” He motioned to the guards.

  “Have someone take Margi to her quarters,” he ordered.

  One guard exited. Moments later he returned with Zarnel.

  “Come,” she said.

  Margi rose from her chair with a renewed energy at seeing her. She turned to Byn. “I hope I may help the cause.”

  “I do too,” he replied.

  She followed Zarnel out of the room as others kept a close watch. Their gaze followed her across the space, like those of a portrait whose gaze followed the viewer no matter where they went. All eyes were on her.

  She realized that the body she paraded through their secret bunker belonged to Rivner. She wore the face on all of the promotional videos touting the vacations for the rich, gaily telling DanuVitro’s lies to their entire society. She offered a culture of limitless reach through time and space, at the e
xpense of the common man.

  She stopped in front of the group and took in the sight of them.

  Byn and the guards emerged from the room.

  “My name is Margi Hall.” She swallowed. “I lived on a beautiful planet called Earth and was brought here by a scientist. You know him as Holan.”

  She tried to meet the eyes of each person in the room as she spoke. “I didn’t know that I would come here or that such a thing could happen.” She faltered. “What I’m saying is that I remember who I am. And I will find a way.”

  She bowed her head and began to step down the hallway when she heard a rumble growing louder. She looked out to the group and saw them beating their hands on objects, on the hood of the truck. The room filled with a mellow roll, its collective pulse. She took in the moment. They saw her. Rivner was no more. She felt a peace that she hadn’t known was possible.

  Zarnel gently placed her hand on her arm. Margi bowed her head to the group and followed her to her new quarters.

  Zarnel led her down the stairs to a narrow hall that had been carved from the rock and stopped at a room. “I’ll let you settle in for now,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Margi replied, then added, “Is Tolman okay?” She tried to hide the fear in her voice.

  Zarnel grinned with motherly satisfaction. “Tolman is fine. He’ll emerge when he can.” She left for the main group.

  Margi opened the door to view a bed nestled against the back wall, and a desk and lamp at its side.

  A wardrobe cabinet stood in one corner. She opened it to see clothes and a pair of boots—better than running through the streets and tunnels in high heels. She put on the clothes and laced her boots. A vest added the warmth she needed in the bunker. She examined the room one more time and rehearsed for the biggest interview she would ever have, only this time she would be telling the events to those who lent their voices only to freedom, instead of selective profit. She hoped she wouldn’t need to confess her own weaknesses. For the moment, rest called. She lay back on the bed and fell asleep.

  A knock on the door woke her. She startled and half expected to see Ferli standing at the end of her bed, wearing her fashionable smirk. Instead, she saw the pale plaster walls of a room smaller than her sky-high closet.