by S. K. Holder
‘I get it. You don’t trust your uncle. You don’t trust me.’
‘Don’t take it personally.’ Luke ran his thumb along the door’s circular rim. ‘It opens from the inside. You ever seen one of these?’
Ted shook his head. In truth he had only seen a bank vault in a high-octane thriller movie. Who knew what they looked like in reality. Surely they came in all shapes and sizes. For all he knew he was looking at a fancy refrigerator. Tridan Entertainment was surrounded by big city banks, all of which had giant vaults of their own. He couldn’t understand why the company would have one. There was a circular gauge set in the door with a time lock device encased in glass. It aroused his curiosity. He gave the glass a tap. ‘This time lock’s a bit dated.’
‘How do you figure that?’ said Luke, regarding him with interest.
‘I saw a time lock like this in a movie set in the nineteenth century. Strange thing is the lock sat inside the door, not on the outside.’
‘You know how the time lock works?’
Ted stepped away from the vault and glanced at the ceiling and back along the corridor. ‘I don’t think it does. It’s vintage. The gauge I mean, not the vault itself. I think the time lock’s supposed to act as an anti-theft deterrent.’
There were no scratches or gouges in the floor or walls to indicate the vault had been dragged onto the seventh floor and there were no windows nearby, which told him it hadn’t been lifted in. There was a tight gap between the top of the vault and the ceiling. It could have been lowered from one of the upper floors, although he couldn’t see why. He pressed his ear to the vault door. He heard a faint beeping. ‘It’s electronic.’
Luke leaned against the wall. ‘Meaning?’
‘I think Vega can open it.’
‘What’s Vega?’
‘That big computer in the basement.’ Ted thought he had told Luke about the computer, and then he remembered he had only discussed it with Connor. But Luke would have seen it. Who was to say he hadn’t messed around with it?
Luke nodded. ‘I know the one. Do you think you can get down there?’
‘What, now?’ To hack into Vega would be some achievement. It was a challenge like no other. A gamble. Steve could have posted his security people in the basement and installed some decent security cameras overnight. ‘I don’t know how long it will take, but I can do it.’
‘I’ll wait here,’ said Luke.
Ted didn’t like the idea of Luke staying all by his lonesome with a steel box full of potential goodies. When the door opened he wanted to be there with him. Not necessarily, the second it opened, just in case it exploded or something, but at the very least on the same floor.
‘You can come with me.’
Luke sighed. ‘I’m supposed to be locked away remember?’
Ted nodded, thinking about how he could make it to the basement and back in minutes. And it would have to be minutes. Whoever had locked up Luke would be heading back this way. They were in no hurry. The kid had been locked up for hours. It was likely that whoever had locked him in was waiting for him to suffocate to death or die of starvation. No doubt it was one of Steve’s loyal security guards. A quick check with one of Steve’s assistants would confirm if he was out for the day. He nodded, the prospect growing more attractive.
‘Have you got your phone on you?’ he said.
‘Yeah.’
Ted gave his trouser pocket a brisk pat. ‘I’ve got mine.’
Luke gave him a quizzical look, and Ted began to wonder if the kid was having second thoughts. He hoped not. He had made up his mind that he would go into the basement, access the Vega computer and open up the vault, regardless of the dangers. He thought of the virus he had installed on The Quest of Narrigh. He hadn’t taken it off and Steve had not said anything more about it. Had Steve assumed he had taken care of it? Or had he found someone else to remove it? If that were the case, he would need to find another way out of the web of chaos he had created.
‘If there’s money in there it’s yours,’ said Luke.
‘This isn’t about money any more,’ said Ted. ‘It’s about survival.’
THIRTY
On the outskirts of Vering, East of Storm Peak, lies Jolrin Lake. A large basin in the craggy ruins, its calm waters are devoid of life unless they are disturbed…
Connor glanced up at the sky. The sun had climbed out of sight and there was a red shadow and wisps of smoke on the horizon. The commander’s carrier had flown out of sight, taking the aliens with it. He saw the debris from a ship, black and smoking. He made his way over to it.
He glimpsed one charred corpse. He saw no others. He found a laser gun in a nest of ash. He grasped it in both hands to keep it steady. He then fired at the debris. A blue ray shot from the end of the gun, blowing a sizeable hole in a hunk of metal torn from the ship.
Armed with a laser gun and no sense of direction, he looked around the smoky landscape, his eyes burning. The smell of ash and dead things filled his nostrils. He looked about for his transcom, vaguely hoping that Brett would come to his rescue. He couldn’t find it. He guessed it had fallen well out of his range or it lay in the carrier. He had two options: the first was to head back towards the battle and stow away on the nearest air-borne vessel he could find. And the second was to find a dune, blast his way through it with the laser gun and hide out until someone came. The problem was he couldn’t tell which dunes were empty and which were occupied. He would in effect be destroying someone’s home. He could maim the occupants in the process as well as put them at risk from an alien assault. He expected the Peltarcks wouldn’t take too kindly to that. Whichever option he chose, it was inevitable that someone would get hurt; more than likely it would be him.
He tucked the gun in his belt. The battle sounds were closing in on him: explosions, gun-fire, screeches, shouts and moans pummelled his ears. He watched a carrier and a small airship, shaped like a mosquito, fly over his head. Both showed no signs of landing.
‘Take the easiest option,’ said the Authoritative Voice.
As if there is one, thought Connor.
How far away were the first dunes? With mounting fear, he said out loud. ‘Move fast and don’t stop.’ He didn’t know if he could open the door of a dune with a laser gun. He circled the ship’s wreckage. If he sighted one dune, he planned to head straight for it. The ground in front of him was flat, save for a few rocky outcrops. He was exposed to whatever lay out there. With great reluctance, he edged his way through a valley between two rocky peaks, towards the death and terror of the battleground.
When he reached the end of the passage he found himself standing before a still lake filled with murky water. Beyond the lake, he sighted another mountainous wall of rock. He was further away from the battle than he thought.
He took a drink from his flask and moved around the lake water with care. A droid stood on the other side of the water, motionless and dented. He scampered over to it. Its blue eyes flashed. It seemed to be the only part of the machine that still functioned. It was missing an arm and its head dangled to one side, barely held in place with a few tubes and wires. He prodded it with his fingers, thinking he could prod it into life. The broken droid didn’t respond to his touch.
Defeated and weary, he slumped down on a peg of rock on the bank of the lake.
Someone in Pyridian had to be searching for him. If he had some sort of computer chip in his ankle that could be read by a machine, they would track him down.
He thought he saw something move on the lake’s surface. He went to the lake’s brink and gazed into the misty water.
Through the murk, he saw that the bottom of the lake was coated with rusting metal plates. He plunged his hand in and brought it out again. The lake rippled, and then appeared to shrink before his eyes. The metal groaned and screeched as if it had suffered an outrage. The plates shunted together to form a funnel.
Connor bounded to his feet. He skidded on a muddy patch of ground. Before he knew it, he was falling t
hrough the funnel. The tepid lake water rushed over him, stinging his eyes and filling his mouth. He choked and spluttered as he struggled to breathe.
Deep into the funnel he went until he felt the warmth and heaviness of the water lift away, leaving him shrouded in the icy air.
He opened his eyes. He had fallen through a glass chute with rings of metal down its length. The chute spat him out and he landed with a thump on hard ground.
He dabbed his eyes and spat the water from his mouth. The chute had dropped him into a bare cell with gravelly walls. He bounced up and down to shake some of the excess water from his clothes. He had a metallic taste on his tongue from the water he had taken in. He tugged off his boots and tipped them upside down. The water plopped from them onto the floor. He put the boots back on. His laser gun was wet too. He hoped it still worked.
His provisions pack was gone. It must have slipped off when he hit the water.
A sign on the wall read:
UNIT 3. CRAM SHELTER. OUT OF BOUNDS. ACTIVATE YOUR KEY FOR SURFACE RE-ENTRY.
He read the sign several times. He didn’t have a key to get out. He supposed he could crawl back up the chute. He peered into it to see how far up it went. From where he stood, he couldn’t see the top. The funnel must have closed. He wondered what had triggered it to open in the first place, having only put his hand in the water for an instant.
He strode around the shelter staring at the walls in search of another way out. He felt as if he was stuck in a well without a bucket and rope. Someone had scratched lines along one wall marking off the days. There had to be thousands of them. Whoever made them was long gone. The thought of scratching one line to mark the passing of a day, made him feel sick to his stomach. He took out his Worral Stone to reassure himself. He found it glowing like a low wattage light bulb. He stared at it in awe. He had never thought the stone had magical properties of any kind. The Citizen Sentinel who he had met in Narrigh told him that all twelve of the Gifted Ones carried a Worral Stone. He hadn’t always carried one. He thought it had come upon him by chance and that whatever or whoever transformed him to a Citizen when he left Earth had rewarded him with the gift of a Dream Emissary. He now understood that wasn’t the case. He possessed the gift long before he travelled to Narrigh. It had simply been returned to him. He was determined to make use of it. It was crucial that he learn about his past, about who he really was, and who he would become.
He laid the stone on the floor expecting it to do something spectacular, but to his disappointment its light went out. He returned it to his pocket and was preparing to climb back up the chute when he sensed someone behind him.
He spun around and saw an image had appeared below the Out of Bounds sign. It was a holo-display of an old man on a monitor. The man had a long white beard and greying hair. His image was being projected from a small hole in the wall. The old man squinted at him. Had the man been there when he had picked up his Worral Stone from the floor? Had he seen it glow?
‘Who are you?’ asked the man.
‘Jemyr Moss,’ said Connor. He watched the man’s eyes grow bigger as he continued to study him with interest. He lowered his eyes and adjusted his belt so that his laser gun was out of view. ‘How did you know I was here?’
‘You activated a sensor when you dropped your stone onto a portion of the floor.’
Connor stared at the spot where he had dropped the stone. It didn’t look any different from the rest of the bolt-tiled floor. ‘It’s not my stone.’
The man held up the palm of his right hand to show his Indigo mark and Connor bared his own, trusting the man would question him no further.
The man smiled. ‘Then whose stone is it?’
The man had not given him his name and Connor was eager to move away from the subject of his Worral stone. ‘I need to get out of here. Do you know the way?’
‘The lake should have been sealed. Someone or something must have broken through it. It hasn’t been used for years.’
‘Do you know Lin Aroda? Can you contact her for me?’
‘Is she a Citizen?’
‘No, she’s a Peltarck. She’s part of the fleet.’
‘I shall do what I can as soon as you tell me about your Worral Stone.’
So the man had known what it was all along. Only the man’s neck and shoulders were visible on the screen, but Connor could see he was not wearing a military uniform. His Gift had to remain a secret. He had trusted the Sentinel in Narrigh with his Gift and he had wanted to use it for his own ends. Who was to say that Issturo wasn’t an impostor, pretending to be one of the Gifted in a bid to take advantage of him? ‘I told you it’s not mine. I found it.’
‘But I saw you take it into your possession. I thought there was only one Gifted One on Pyridian that I know of and now I meet a second.’ He held up his own stone for Connor to see.
Connor stared at the object in the man’s hand. It looked like an ordinary stone. Just like his. He clambered back up the chute. A strong stench wafted down from the shaft. He planted his hands on either side of the shaft and shuffled on his knees. With nothing for him to grip onto, he slid back out. He lowered himself onto the floor and tried to work out what he was doing wrong. He was a Citizen. He should have been able to jump up the chute without any difficulty. There had to be another way out.
‘You don’t believe me or you don’t trust me. Which is it?’ said the man.
He found the old man inside the shelter with him, a solid mass of flesh. His eyes were open and bright with curiosity. He wore a ragged robe, tied at the waist with a twisted belt. On his feet he wore a pair of shabby boots. He had his stone in his hand. He offered it to Connor. ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘It won’t hurt you.’
Connor went to take the stone and found to his alarm that his hand went straight through the stone, and the old man’s hand as if he were a ghost. His mouth sprung open in surprise.
The old man laughed when he saw his reaction. ‘You don’t understand your gift at all do you? It must be new to you.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘It means another one of us has met the gruesome hand of death and I thought that I would be next. You’d think after 200 years my body would have given up regenerating, but no, it still lingers.’
‘How are you doing this?’ asked Connor. The man’s face was still visible on the monitor. His eyes were closed. His lips were fastened shut.
‘Astral travel. It is done by travelling in your sleep.’
‘You’re a Dream Emissary?’
‘My name is Issturo. I believe we’ve met before. Which sort of gifted one are you? Can you turn the holo-display off with your mind or can you tell someone to teleport me out of here?’
The old man looked less withered than he had in the dream, which was now only a hazy memory in Connor’s mind. The dream hardly made any sense. He had seen the old man in Narrigh, and now he was in Pyridian. He had given Connor a mission, told him he must stop someone or something. Connor didn’t fight to remember the name. He had a mission of his own to worry about: how to get home. Learning the man from his dream was real complicated things. He had told him about the Shard and Narrigh; things he wasn’t supposed to know about. And worse still he had given Issturo his real name.
‘I don’t think we’ve met at all,’ said Connor, wanting the man to forget he had ever laid eyes on him. ‘I’m not gifted and I’m the one stuck in here. You need to tell someone to let me out.’
Issturo spread his hands. ‘If only I could.’
‘Please get help.’ Connor’s voice rose in desperation. The cram shelter brought back memories of the fortress in Narrigh where he had been trapped with a soul-less entity, listening to its riddles and questions of which he could find no answers. It wasn’t too long ago that he was on his way home, at least that’s what he thought. Now it seemed he was moving further away, deeper into danger.
‘I’ll tell you what you are since you’re in denial. ‘You’re a Dream Emissary.’
‘If you know I’m a Dream Emissary then wh
y did you ask?’
The man shrugged. ‘I wanted to hear it from your own mouth. It’s a rarity for Gifted Ones to meet others like themselves. I was intrigued. Tell me, have you ever dreamt of me?’
Connor shook his head fiercely. He couldn’t afford to talk to anyone else Peltarck or Citizen. It would only get him in more trouble. Place him in more danger. ‘Listen. I just want to go home. Please find Lin Aroda. She’s a princess. She’ll give you a reward.’ The man might have been looking for payment of some kind. Maybe that’s why he droned on.
‘You can leave any time you want. If you’re a Dream Emissary.’
‘I never said I was.’ Connor shook his head hardly believing they were still on the subject.
‘You can leave the same way you arrived.’
‘Back through the chute? I’ve tried. I’ll slip back down and will continue to slip. I’ll probably break my neck a hundred times over from trying.’
‘I was talking about astral travel.’
‘I don’t know anything about astral travel.’
‘You mean you don’t know when you’re using it.’ Issturo raised his eyebrow. ‘How do you think you got here in the first place?’
Connor stared around the shelter. Sludge and debris coated the once clean chute. The holo-display of Issturo’s face had become soiled and grimy.
A white ring appeared around Issturo. ‘I’m the one who’s trapped here Connor, not you. Help me get out and I’ll tell you all you need to know.’
The shelter plunged into darkness. Connor felt a pain explode in his arm. He shut his eyes and cried out. He heard the sound of an explosion in the distance and felt a cold blast of air on his face. He opened his eyes to see a lizard with flaking brown and blue scales gnawing on his arm. Its pink eyes swivelled in its sockets.
