Chapter 3

Chapter 3 of Moebius

Chapter 3

 

“How about this,” Conner said. “We wait for someone outside to drop a magnet. Then we break off the sink faucet and stick it in the roll of toilet paper and toss it out so that it catches the magnet. Then we reel it in, and use the magnet to bypass the lock.”

Oliver stared at him. “There are so many reasons that won’t work I don’t know where to begin.”

“The lock takes a key,” Mara said, “and the entire door is metal.”

“And aluminum isn’t even magnetic,” Oliver said.

“Well we gotta consider all of our options, right?” Conner said.

“I still think the guards are our best bet,” Mara said. They had discussed options regarding when their food was delivered, or someone walking by too closely, and all manner of other ideas. Yet in the six days they had been in this nasty cell, not one opportunity had come their way.

“Well,” Conner said, “is there anything else we can do by tearing off the faucet?”

“Remove our ability to wash our hands,” Mara said.

“Shh,” Oliver said, “someone’s coming.”

Footsteps grew louder and Erin appeared, wheeling a large television in front of the cell. “Why hello and congratulations,” Erin said, “you have won front-row seats!”

“Dare I ask what we’re watching?” Conner said.

Erin gestured and spoke dramatically. “It is time. For. Spellcaster’s latest---drum roll please---compliance speech!” He threw up his arms and danced a jig. “Hooray!”

“We’re not interested,” Oliver said.

“Oh, you don’t have a choice,” Erin said. “Even if you don’t look at the screen, the sound will be broadcast at a volume so high you won’t be able to block it out even if you plug your ears and sing.”

“Um,” Mara said. “If we agree to just watch and listen, can we have the volume at a more normal loudness?”

“Nope. It would be pretty stupid of us to trust you before your compliance. Don’t worry, we’ll open negotiations after the speech. Heck, if you behave yourselves we might release you from that cell.”

“Release us?” Oliver said, the doubt on his face mirroring what Conner felt inside.

“If you allow yourselves to be properly reeducated,” Erin said. “Here we go!” He turned on the screen.

An image appeared of an old boy with a scraggly beard and menacing yellow eyes. He was not speaking at the moment. Instead, several newspeople were commentating with the loudness of a punk music concert.

“---our soldiers on the front lines, helping to bring the light of the True Way to the rest of the dark galaxy.”

“This is just as bad as we thought,” Oliver said.

“Worse,” Conner said.

A pop sounded. Conner thought it was from the broadcast, but then he saw Erin jerk his head up, a trickle of red appearing on his cheek. He dashed off to the right, yelling, “Security!”

Someone sprinted after him screaming. Then two more people appeared, a boy and a girl, both olive-skinned. The boy had blond hair and the girl brown. They looked into the cell and saw the three prisoners.

“Hey,” Mara said, walking to the bars. “Can you let us out?”

The boy was about to say something, but at that moment a blaring loud jingle of music started playing on the TV. The boy yelled and pushed it over onto the floor. Then he shot it twice, and the sound stopped. “Stupid thing.” He looked at the prisoners and cleared his throat. “Sorry, we would love to free you, but we can’t exactly take all the prisoners we find with us.”

“We have our own ship,” Oliver said. Then added more quietly, “Assuming it’s still around here somewhere.”

“Whom do you serve?” the girl asked.

“What?” Oliver said.

The girl spoke more slowly. “Whom do you serve?”

Conner, Oliver, and Mara shared a look. “Ourselves, I guess.”

The girl sighed and relaxed. “Okay, not Spellcaster. You passed the test. Let’s get you out of there. Stand back.” She took a tool from her belt, presumably a high energy plasma cutter, and sliced the lock clean open. “Don’t touch near the glowing bits,” she said as the door swung.

“Yeah,” Oliver said as they filed out. “Hot objects glow due to blackbody radiation, but stop when they’re under eight hundred degrees, so---”

“Very interesting,” the boy said, “but we don’t have time. I’m Callum.”

“And I’m Veronica,” the girl said.

Conner, Mara, and Oliver gave their names.

“Come on,” Callum said, “let’s go catch up with Core before security swarms us.”

They ran down the hall and down several side paths to avoid any guards that might be approaching after Erin’s call. Voices came from a room ahead, and the group slowed and cautiously approached.

“You’re brainwashed!” A girl cried. “Can’t you see? You’re serving the very enemy who destroyed our world!”

“Corcell,” Erin replied in a cajoling tone. “They saved our world.”

At the doorway, Callum gestured to the group that it was safe to look. They all peered through and saw a buzz-cut girl restrained by two guards, talking to Erin, who stood out of reach.

“I was right there with you when the Shroud took us,” the girl, Corcell, shouted. “We’re not robots to be programmed by magic spells. We still have a choice.”

Veronica and Callum both held their guns up in synch, focusing intently.

“And look where that choice has left you,” Erin said. “Your soul in a pit of depravity. Accept Spellcaster into your heart and feel the joy and light of purpose once more.”

Corcell swore loudly and brashly, masking the silenced pops, of the guns. The guards holding her fell to the ground, making Conner wince, though he didn’t see any blood. Callum and Veronica both swung their handguns to shoot at Erin, but the boy had already disappeared through a door on the other side.

“Why didn’t you shoot him first?” Corcell yelled, racing after him.

The group of five followed, dashing through concrete corridors and rooms. In one hallway, a number of people with workers’ uniforms dropped to the floor with their hands on their head as they passed.

They kept running until they reached the hangar. Erin was running up the ramp of a shuttle, Corcell closing the distance rapidly. Corcell jumped, the ramp raised, and her fingers scraped the paint on it before it closed.

She banged her fist on the side of the shuttle. “Erin! Open up!”

“I’m sorry, Corcell,” Erin said through a speaker. “You’re not your normal self. I hope someday we can be together again under Spellcaster’s light. Now go. I’m about to depressurize the room, and I’m going to do it whether you are in it or not.”

Corcell swore, and then swore again, continuing to pound on the shuttle’s hull.

“Come on, Core,” Veronica said, “if we get to our ship we can chase him.”

Corcell---or, Core, as Conner supposed he should think of her---turned to look at them. “Who are they?” She said.

“Prisoners we rescued,” Veronica said. “They have a ship.”

“That one,” Conner said, pointing to Black Fire.

“Fine,” Core said. “Let’s . . .” Her eyes darted to the door. “Uh oh, we have company.”

“Hands in the air,” a boy shouted. “Come here.”

The whole group turned to find six armored Tantalian guards training rifles at them. Slowly, they raised their hands above their heads.

“Anyone have any ideas?” Conner asked.

“Now is not the time,” Callum said.

They all did as the guards commanded and allowed themselves to be escorted out of the hangar. The door closed behind them, and a whoosh signified that the room was being depressurized. “He’s getting away,” Core muttered.

“Shut up,” one of the guards said. “You can talk in your cell.”

They were frisked, and all their tools and weapons were taken away. Then they were led back to the prison block. Conner hoped for a moment that the guards would put them in their old cell, the one with the broken lock, but it was not to be. The six renegades were herded into a new cell, and the door closed and locked behind them.

A guard looked at the smashed TV nearby, and pulled out a hand radio. “Play the broadcast over the speakers,” he said. The guards left as a triumphal symphony of brass and strings started playing loudly.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” Conner turned to see Core clutching her head with both hands, knuckles white. “Not again.”

“What’s wrong?” Conner asked loudly over the music, extending his hand tentatively toward her.

“It’s the Shroud,” Callum shouted. “Also I wouldn’t touch her if I were you. She bites.”

“The Shroud?” Oliver asked.

“Spellcaster’s spell. After this awful discord, he is going to stomp his staff into the ground and say ‘Serve me.’ This will cause everyone who hears it to fall madly in love with him and be depressed about everything except serving him. We call it the Shroud.”

A single Tantalian worker approached the bars. She looked terrified, and she held up a key with a trembling hand. She said something, but was drowned out by the music.

“We can’t hear you,” Veronica shouted.

The girl swallowed, looked both directions furtively, and tried again. “If I let you out, can you get me to the Resistance?”

Core walked up and gripped the bars. “If you let us out of here, we’ll take you anywhere you like.”

“Okay.” She inserted the key into the lock, having some difficulty with nervous trembling, and opened the door. The group of six poured out.

“We need to get fuel for your ship,” the girl said. “They drain it all so that you can’t escape.”

“We’ll just use ours,” Veronica said, turning the opposite direction from the hangar. “With any luck, they won’t have found it.”

“Hurry,” Core yelled, leading the charge down the hall.

“But what about our ship?” Oliver said.

“Don’t worry,” Veronica said, “we’ll take care of it.”

The music began building into a crescendo which rolled and built up and built up, sending surges of energy into their legs and lungs. Feet flew in a flurry of footsteps like thunder.

Core wrenched open a maintenance hatch and climbed the ladder inside.

“Come on,” Callum said, waving the group after her.

“Seriously, where are we going?” the Tantalian girl said. “This goes nowhere.”

“Did,” Veronica shouted back, having reached the top and stepped off the ladder into a low corridor with pipes and wires running along its sides.

The music crescendo kept going and going, playing again and again what Conner was sure would be the final note. But thankfully, as if it had been designed in order to give them time in this moment, it just kept going.

When Conner got to the top, he saw Veronica standing beside a pair of legs disappearing into a hole in the ceiling above a laser-cut slab on the floor, which had most likely been where the hole was until recently. “Up you go,” she said, boosting Oliver in.

The music finally ended. An enthusiastic voice said, “And now, for the moment we’ve all been waiting for, the words of our very own Emperor, who leads us in glorious . . .”

Conner went in next, pulling himself through an airlock and into a room that looked like it could be the cargo room of a ship with a yellowish color scheme. Mara followed, and then the Tantalian girl. Veronica scrambled in, bringing up the rear.

“. . . Spellcaster!” Applause rang through the speaker.

“Get it closed!” Core screamed from another room.

Both doors of the airlock rolled shut, much too slowly. Even as they closed, the sound continued to reverberate through the walls.

A gruff voice that sent chills through Conner’s bones spoke. “Hello, all my loyal subjects. I am your Emperor, the ruler of Tarran. The ruler of the Shaper’s Path. I am the Spellcaster.”

The seals fell into place. “All right, blow it!” Veronica shouted.

“Bow down before me. Give me your lives and serve m---”

There was a bang! and the sound cut off as the ship rocked momentarily, the inertial dampeners unable to fully smooth out the jolt of detaching from the facility. Through the airlock window the surface of a lunar hill rushed by, tipping to the side and giving way to outer space. Veronica sank to the ground. “Whew. That was close.” She waved her hand around. “Welcome to the Lizardhawk.

“What about our ship?” Oliver asked.

“Don’t worry,” Veronica said, tipping her head, “we got it. Come on.” She led the way through a hall into a cozy bridge with a long window curving across the front. Callum sat in the pilot’s chair, moving a couple of sticks with deliberate motions while Core sat in another chair, leaning forward to stare out the window, hands clawing at the armrests. Out the window, the moon slid by at an angle as Callum brought the ship about. The runway appeared, and then the hangar door.

“I hope no one’s inside,” Callum said. Then he pressed a button, and a beam of light blinked between the ship and the door, which exploded in a cascade of shrapnel.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Oliver said, “but how are we supposed to get to our ship now?”

“Watch and learn,” Veronica said, slipping into a third chair and fingering a control panel. The Lizardhawk touched down on the runway and stopped, the lack of a jolt due to the inertial dampeners giving Conner a stir of nausea. Through the doorway they could see several vessels, including Black Fire. “There we go,” Veronica said slowly as she worked the controls. “Tow field in place.”

“What?” Oliver said.

The Lizardhawk backed up, and, at the same time, the Black Fire rolled toward the exit. When it passed the hangar entrance, Callum fired the retro rockets, thrusting the Lizardhawk away from the moon’s surface. Black Fire came with it, keeping a steady distance.

“How are you doing that?” Oliver asked, mouth agape.

“What, never seen a tether before?” Callum asked. “Okay, ready for hyperspace.”

“Wait but what about our ship?” Oliver said. “We can’t leave it behind.”

Callum looked at him inquisitively. “Seriously, have you been living under a rock?” He tapped some buttons on the keypad and punched the confirm button. Instead of jumping to hyperspace, a hole opened up in space in front of them, the green wisps and swirls within it showing the walls of a hyperspace tunnel. The Lizardhawk flew in. The rear view of the ship appeared on a computer screen, showing the Black Fire still being tugged along with them in hyperspace.

“I had no idea that was possible,” Oliver said.

“Yep,” Callum said. “Where are you from, anyway?”

“Oh yeah,” Oliver said, “We’re from Shaper’s Back. And I swear I know science. Just, outdated science.”

Several pairs of eyes converged inquisitively on him, and he took a breath. He told the group about following the Eternal Duty through a rift created by the chrono actuator.

“Well,” Callum said, “I guess introductions are in order. First,” He pointed at the Tantalian girl. “Who are you?”

“My name is Taea,” she said. “I’m . . . a traitor, I guess. Ever since Spellcaster took charge, life has been a living hell. Tarran changed. It’s not what it’s supposed to be.”

“Oh, it changed a lot sooner than that,” Core said. She gave Taea a look that could kill, and then stalked out of the room.

“What’s up with her?” Conner asked.

“She was living on Echinea when it was invaded,” Veronica said. “Which, by the way”---she gave Taea a pointed look---“was two years before Spellcaster appeared.”

Taea opened her mouth, and then closed it and looked away.

“Then,” Veronica said, “she and her brother Erin were back there on a mission when Spellcaster made his worldwide announcement. She fell under the Shroud, along with all the other people of the planet, including her brother, Erin.”

“The same Erin who was overseeing the moon base?” Mara asked.

“The very one,” Callum said. “Core managed to resist the Shroud. That’s why, you’ll notice, she’s cranky all the time. Erin, on the other hand, gave in, like almost everybody else. Hence, this mission.”

“The Resistance sent you to extract him,” Oliver said.

Callum and Veronica looked at each other slowly. “Well, you see,”

“We weren’t actually sent,” Veronica said. “We . . . may have borrowed the Lizardhawk.”

“In order to help Core get her brother back.”

“Without permission.” Veronica shrugged. “That’s our credo. Act first, ask permission after we’ve saved the day.”

“But,” Conner said, “Erin got away.”

“Yep,” Callum said, “Which means we’re gonna have to find out where he went and come back. Core is not gonna be happy. But,” he opened his arms to indicate Conner, Oliver, Mara, and Taea, “We’re not coming back empty-handed.”

“So if you were trying to capture Erin,” Mara said, “why did you shoot at him?”

“Tranquilizers,” Veronica said. “We’re not bloodthirsty killers.”

“Oh,” Taea said. “That’s nice to know.”

Callum pointed at her. “Look, girl. Let’s get something straight. You’re either part of the Resistance now, or you’re a Tarran. Not both.”

Taea looked down. “I see. Well,” she looked back up. “Resistance, then.”

Callum studied her face, and then nodded. “Y’all might want to get comfortable. It’ll be a day or two before we arrive at Mithra.”

“Mithra?” Taea said. “Oh, that reminds me, I heard the other day that the Empire is planning to invade Mithra.”

Callum’s and Veronica’s eyebrows both shot up. “Taea,” Veronica said, “you’ve just earned your keep.”