by Mort Gloss
****
"You know I'm not usually this slow," said Tom, panting as he tried to keep up with Rita. "I won the forty-yard dash once when I was in elementary school, or maybe I saw somebody win it."
"Keep up, slave," barked Rita as she continued to sprint toward the innards of the dome. Just as she finished speaking, a tremendous blast cratered the ground in front of her position. The force of the explosion sent Rita stumbling backward. Tom rushed forward, catching her in his outstretched arms.
"You okay?" he asked.
"It's nothing I can't handle," she answered impatiently, standing up straight and surveying the scene. "Defenders on each side; fire your weapon, peasant!" she yelled.
Tom looked up, frantically shifting his gaze from left to right. There he saw multiple soldiers standing on two opposite balconies, aiming weapons straight at him. Remembering Balloon's instructions, he immediately lifted his taserbeam and began firing wildly. Rita did the same, the two of them scorching the pristine upper walls of the dome.
"We gotta keep going," yelled Tom above the fray. "Keep moving forward until you get into the next chamber; I'll cover you."
Without a word, Rita acknowledged his instructions, diving forward and moving safely out of the room. Tom stood up straight, moved his arms high above his head, and uttered a primeval scream, gripping his taserbeam with both hands and firing into the sky as he ran through the chamber.
Tom burst into the next room, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rita sitting up against what appeared to be a marble wall. "Hey, Rita, sweet moves back there," he said, looking around at the ornate architecture of the room as he spoke. When she didn't respond with an immediate insult, he looked toward her. He saw an enormous man, holding some type of weapon just inches from Rita's face. Tom instinctively lifted his taserbeam to fire a shot, but then remembered Balloon's instructions regarding the "first bandit that gits in yer way."
"Get away from her!" he yelled, charging the soldier. Although he had never attempted such a move in the past, Tom picked up his right leg, twisted the full frame of his body clockwise, and landed a resounding kick to the jaw of the Zaxmorthian guard. The soldier, startled by Tom's strange attack, had no time to respond before being knocked unconscious by the blow. At the precise moment Tom turned, a projectile-fired from an unknown source-passed within inches of his head and exploded onto the marble wall. After the debris had cleared from the air, Rita stood upright, aimed her taserbeam, and dispatched the soldier who fired the shot from the other side of the chamber.
"If I hadn't done that roundhouse kick, I would have been toasted by that guy," said Tom, half in a daze.
"And Zaxmorthia would have been rid of an imbecile," responded Rita, giving Tom a wry smile as she spoke. "Let us move on, slave," she added. "The end of our journey is near."
Tom, still reeling from his brush with death, reluctantly followed Rita as she moved toward the next corridor. They had a brief respite from enemy attack, as they traveled through a long, confined section of hallway. The narrow space was ornately decorated with artwork depicting obese Zaxmorthian heroes from times past. Trying to convince Rita-and himself-that he was okay, Tom passed her as they approached one final room.
At the point the corridor ended Tom encountered a tremendous opening, followed by a circular room filled with artwork, ancient statues, and-at the very center-what appeared to be the ball of power. "Rita," he said, gasping for air, "I think we made it."
Rita arrived at his side and looked toward the Protective Essence. She did not respond to his statement, but rather seemed to be lost in concentration. Suddenly, she screamed "Five!" and violently heaved her body to the left. At the precise moment she did so, the ground where she had just been standing erupted in flames, apparently hit by an unseen projectile.
Rita immediately got back on her feet and ran toward the objective. "Cover me!" she screamed. In the center of the room lay the ball of power, suspended by a series of thick metallic cables hanging from the ceiling and a narrow, marble pedestal extending from a podium on the floor. Without hesitation, Rita jumped onto the pedestal and began climbing toward the Protective Essence with cat-like agility. Tom, jaw slack and mouth wide open as he watched Rita ascend with perfect acumen, momentarily forgot his precarious surroundings. Without warning, shots fired toward Rita's position on the pedestal. Remembering Balloon's instructions, Tom began firing at the approaching soldiers, who appeared to be advancing on Rita from every angle of the large chamber.
Her taserbeam still firmly held in her right hand, Rita gripped the pedestal with her slender legs, dropped her head and arms into an upside-down position, and joined Tom's assault on the approaching guards. "Keep firing!" she yelled. "I'm almost there." With that, she flipped upright and furiously climbed the remaining distance to the ball of power. As Tom continued to fire shots in all directions, Rita moved her fingertips closer to the objective. The Protective Essence, a dark shade of blue, perfectly round, and just over eight inches in diameter, was now within her reach. To her initial surprise, the exploding projectiles ceased when she came within arm's reach of her goal. However, she quickly realized the defenders were wary of destroying the Essence. Remembering Balloon's specific instructions, she suddenly scooped up the ball of power with her left hand and simultaneously bowed her head as low as possible. The removal of the Essence triggered an immediate onslaught of two carefully aimed missiles, each of which would have impacted her head had she not moved so quickly.
"Got it!" she yelled, a bright smile on her face. Without hesitation, she slid down the pedestal and planted her feet firmly on the ground. Seeing her graceful landing, Tom remembered Balloon's last instruction. He instantly screamed as loud as possible and fired his taserbeam into the air, counting the shots out loud. At number six, he looked up at the ceiling to see what he was shooting. He was surprised to discover that no guards were in the vicinity. Rather, it appeared he was firing at a clustered network of electronics. Precisely at the moment he fired the tenth shot, the lights went out. The great chamber of the Protective Essence was shrouded in darkness.
