Chapter 15
Markman stood suited-up in the
sensesuit test area, his helmet under
one arm. For the first time, John Paul
seemed in a hurry. It was obvious he
was trying to conceal it, but at the
same time his dashing from station to
station was a dead give away. It made
Markman wish that Cassiopia was with
them. John Paul kept looking over at
Markman, raising one finger to let him
know they were just about ready.
Markman nodded passively back at
each gesture. When the signal was
finally given, he pulled the helmet
down over his head and rode the beam
of light back to the Centrex Pyramid.
Trill was there waiting, and seemed
just as wound up as John Paul.
“My lord, greetings, and welcome.
Are you well, sir?”
“Thank you, Trill. Yes, all is well.”
“Will you be working here or
traveling, sir?”
“Please contact DuMont, and tell
him to have Jax meet me at the Aurora
Central Library with the equipment I
requested.”
“Very well, sir. Do you require any
other resources?”
“No, I do not. Do you think there
will be any trouble from the Crillian
High Council?”
“Sir, one never knows.”
“Really?”
“Sir, there is related news from
the Office of Central Assurance. I have
printed it out if you would prefer to
read it yourself. After your recent visit
to the High Council, two council
members were caught attempting to
withdraw large creditory sums from
government subsidy accounts.
Apparently your visit instilled fear that
you were retained to investigate the
council members. It was found that
these two council members had been
secretly conducting business not in the
best interest of the Crillian people. A
third council member is also under
suspicion and is being held by the OCA.
Needless to say, the High Council is in
somewhat of a state of confusion at this
time.”
“Trill, were any of the suspect
council members the Elders?”
“No sir, the three Elders were
found not to be involved. They are
apparently as outraged as the citizens
of Crillia.”
“Will all of this turn out alright?”
“Yes, my lord. It is an inquisition
that was apparently overdue. Oddly
enough, you are being credited with
protecting the Crillian people from
unscrupulous individuals who could
have seriously harmed the state.”
“Oh boy…”
“Sir, may I show you?” Trill tapped
a crystal control and a large display
screen appeared on the wall opposite
them. To Markman’s dismay, it was the
Crillian Convention show. All the
regulars were there. This time, the set
was in upheaval. One commentator was
sprawled out on the discussion table
face up with another member fanning
her face with a cardboard advertising
sign. The others were milling around
the table arguing.
“You see? You see the absolute
chaos this had caused. A member of
our group fainting on a live broadcast?”
said Guhe, pausing to look over his
fallen comrade.
“All I said was that the council
must have needed a check up. How
else would we ever have known about
the impropriety?”
“The Overlord made no
appointment. He just barged into a
closed meeting, offended the Elders
themselves, and then interrogated
them as though they were common
citizens,” argued Guhe.
“The council was dismissed without
explanation!” said Belina.
“Yes, in hindsight that was a bad
choice,” added Gerenda.
“And, the Elders are supposed to
be common citizens, Guhe,” offered
Belina.
Trill switched off the video. “Sir,
the Crillian Convention is receiving the
highest ratings its discussion panel has
ever commanded. That is why they are
not switching the broadcast off. Your
unexpected visit has caused a very
overdue appraisal of Crillian politics.
The other branches are now calling for
inquisition. It is heartening to see.”
“I seem to be an elephant in a
china shop, Trill.”
“Sir?”
“It’s an old saying. Someone
tromping around where they
shouldn’t.”
“Many people are commending you
for your exploits, sir. You are quite
popular now all over Crillia.”
“Trill, would you please keep track
of all this. Let me know if I get into any
kind of trouble. I mean, more than I’m
already in.”
“I will be happy to, sir.”
“I’ll need the hooded cloak, Trill.”
“Very well, sir. Will you be
traveling by transport or tube rider?”
“Transport, please Trill. I want to
get to it.”
Trill went to an alcove nearby and
withdrew Markman’s cloak. He
approached and held it open. Markman
complied by slipping his arms in. The
weight of the thing surprised him as he
pulled up the hood and wrapped the
front closed. In the transport tube
there was no waiting. A quick nod, and
Trill waved one hand. Markman was
there.
The Main Square was busy. During
the transport, Markman wondered if his
cloak might no longer be an adequate
disguise. Upon exiting the transport
tube he looked around and held back a
laugh. The crowded street was filled
with people heading one way or the
other and nearly half of them had on
cloaks exactly like Markman’s.
Apparently Crillian fashion was being
strongly influenced by someone with no
fashion sense at all. Had Cassiopia
been at her station, it was likely she
would have fallen out of her seat
laughing.
Markman stood in shadow across
from the library and watched the
comings and goings. Quite a few
beamer cars floated by in both
directions. Some storefronts were
completely changing design every few
minutes. Holographic salesmen
continued to appear and fade away as
passerby’s ignored them. One
storefront was a complete movie screen
projecting 3D movie clips. Lighted
colored squares in the sidewalks were
tripping on and off everywhere. People
were riding the squares up and down
the street. Except for audio coming
from some buildings, not a word was
being spoken except by holograms and
other advertisements.
A motley group of utility workers
in bright yellow uniforms pulled up to
the library and unloaded equipment. A
few minutes later, a crazy man riding a
small jet engine with handlebars and
no wheels jetted into view and stopped
in front of them. It was Jax. Markman
made his way across the busy street as
Jax dismounted. He spotted Markman
immediately. He unzipped a chest
pocket on his light blue coveralls and
slipped something he had been wearing
on his wrist into it. Markman stepped
onto a blue rectangle on the sidewalk
and turned to Jax. “You ready?”
Jax went to the group of utility
men and after a brief exchange,
hoisted what looked like a small jetpack
onto his back. One of the utility men
made a few adjustments and patted a
ready signal. Leaning slightly forward,
Jax returned to Markman. “Chemical
laser. You can’t beat ‘em.”
“We really know what we’re
doing?”
Jax shook his head. “I thought you
did? We know how to use the laser. I
went over it with these guys last night.
But no, we don’t know what we’re
doing…sir”
Markman laughed. He nodded
acknowledgment to the utility guys and
headed for the library with Jax close
behind.
“You don’t think we’ll attract any
attention in here, do you?”
Jax smirked. “No more than
possible….sir.”
Inside, the library was crowded.
Enough patrons were gathered at the
main desk that the two attendants did
not see the pair pass by. Most other
visitors did. They stopped what they
were doing and gawked at the strange
man with the rocket pack on his back
being led by a man in a hooded brown
cloak. This time a security guard was
present. He locked in on them
immediately and headed in a direction
to cut them off. He managed to reach
the elevator the same time they did.
“Halt. Identification please,” he
said aloud.
Jax could not resist.
“Identification? For the public library?
What you need identification for?”
“Let me see your ID unless you
want a ride downtown.”
Markman could not resist. “Ride
downtown? Jax, you told me this was
downtown…”
“Citizens, I’m not going to fool
around with you. You here to
exterminate rodents or something? I
need to see some ID.”
“You want ID? Okay, I’m Jax
Romo, chief pilot at the Terra Nova
Castle, Skyway Terrace, and this is the
Overlord. You need any other ID?”
A look of fear came over the man’s
face. He stepped back and took a long
hard look at the hooded man standing
next to Jax. More confirmation was
needed, but asking for it seemed a bit
treacherous. Markman remembered his
visit to the Thought Exchange. He held
out one hand, the long cuffed sleeve
hanging down. He concentrated on his
open hand. Ever so slowly, a golden
coin appeared in his palm. He took it
between his thumb and forefinger and
held it out to the guard. “For your
trouble, officer.”
The guard stood stunned.
Markman continued to hold out the
coin. Hand shaking, the guard slowly
reached out and took it.
The elevator door opened. Jax
began laughing under his breath and
stepped inside. Markman nodded at his
newest believer and followed. The
doors slid shut. With the tap of the
bottom button they started down.
“You never offered me a gold coin,
and I’ve visited hell with you. Not only
that, we’re on our way there again!”
Markman held out his hand and
formed another gold coin. Jax looked
down at it, up at Markman, then
begrudgingly reached out and took it.
“Good. A real souvenir. Thanks Boss.”
Once again the elevator stopped
one story short, as though it was not
programmed to descend to the bottom.
Markman re-tapped the button and the
car dropped one more floor.
Beyond the open elevator doors,
the darkened, dirt-covered hallway was
unchanged. In the adjacent utility
room, the oval hatch opened more
easily this time. Jax and Markman
descended the short, dirt ramp, their
headlamps casting eerie shadows
around an eerie hole in the ground.
The brick wall stood violated from their
previous visit, the dark passageway
beyond still largely unexplored and
intriguing. Markman had to pull himself
away from staring into it. Jax was
already setting up the chemical laser in
front of the dirty cement wall.
“See that main valve on the back
of my pack? Twist that thing full open,
will you?”
Markman pulled back his hood and
complied. “What else?”
Jax twisted around to look at him.
“Pick a spot. Get ready for some dust.”
Markman placed a finger in the
dead center of the wall and drew an X
in the dirt. Jax tugged free a long wand
attached to his backpack and waved for
him to stand back. A loud crack brought
a hot blue beam at the end of the
wand. Jax took a careful forward stance
at the wall and brought the beam to
bear. There was smoke accompanied by
crackling and hissing. Liquefied cement
began to fall away from the wall.
Ever so slowly a seam began to
open. Jax skillfully cut a waist high arc
for the top of the opening, the
strongest possible shape in case the
wall was load bearing. It took thirty
minutes to bring the first side all the
way down to ground level, and then
another thirty minutes for the other.
When he was done, Jax cut off the fuel
feed and the blue arc died with a pop.
He unstrapped himself from the torch
and set it gently on the ground.
The two men stood looking at the
cutaway cement still blocking their
passage. Markman removed his cloak
and folded it neatly by the torch. He
took a position in front of the newly
formed door, braced and placed a solid
side kick into the arch. The chunk of
cement gave way easily and made a
whoomp sound as it fell inward leaving
a newly opened doorway to darkness.
Jax said, “Well congratulations. It
does look like there’s a space back
there. Don’t get your hopes up. It may
be only three or four feet deep.”
Markman took his hand lamp and
bent over at the opening. He
maneuvered his light in. “It’s deep,” he
said. He stepped one leg through,
worked a shoulder in and squeezed
past. Inside he stood, his head lamp
casting beams into the deep chamber.
The hand lantern was much brighter.
This was not a tunnel. It was a large
room. There was a long, dirt-covered
table in the center. What appeared to
be shelves with accumulations of dirt
lined every wall. Some sort of dust-
covered equipment was stacked here
and there. The ceiling was fairly high.
It was impossible to tell what the walls
floor and ceiling were made of, but the
shelves went all the way to the top.
Markman trudged through the dirt
and debris and went to the closest
shelf. Jax squeezed in behind him. The
dirt on the shelves was so deep he had
to wipe some away to see if anything
was there. His hand quickly hit buried
objects. He wiped enough away to
make out the shapes. They were books.
A pang of joy raced though Markman.
That was the best thing he could have
hoped for. This chamber was full of
information. There had to be
information about the tunnels and the
Salantians here. It only made sense.
Excitedly he worked a book out of
its place and held it carefully in one
hand. The cover had markings but was
too old and too worn to make out. He
set down his hand lamp, and as
carefully as possible opened the cover.
The pages were ready to fall out and
disintegrate. As gently as he could, he
turned to the title page. Shock
suddenly filled his mind. He stared
down at the title and shook his head in
disbelief.
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