The aurora city
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| 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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