Chapter Four

Pala didn't ask questions when I showed up, five days in advance, smuggling her right under Don's nose. That was fortunate for both of us, because I had no time or patience to dawdle. Now for the matter of transportation. Everyone was already riding their notus, except for the senior members of the Convention- I felt like a theif when I 'borrowed' Professor Taro's notus, but such a small pilfer was so trivial compared to what I was doing.

 

"Let's go," I told Pala, handing her one of the small knapsacks I'd obtained from my dorm room on the way to the Illegals' Prison. Each contained some necessities, a laserlight, a bottle to carry water in, some lighter tablets, a package of acid-touch pads, and a knife stolen from the kitchens. I wished I had guns, or even swords, like they had before the war, but those were no longer made, thanks to the Doves' campaign of life. The knieves would have to suffice if we were caught in danger. I was confident enough in my knowledge of the wilderness to find food for us, and I wagered that pala, with her experience as a Natural, would know a thing or two about it as well.

 

Luck was with us; no one flew the patrol around the Witness Complex, seeing as they were all at the races. Luck was against us; motion sensors, placed all along the rooftops, had been activated. We were imprisoned, unless we wanted to set off the alarms. That might not have been too bad, except that therew as a very good chance that the TC had also put another barrier there, less visible and possibly more painful. It was, however, a risk we would have to take. The grim reality: we had no choice.

 

"Hang on!" I called sharply to Pala, holding my arm in front of her. Alone, I inched forward. Nothing. I soared down to the Green, searching the grass for what I needed. There- a small gray pebble. Perfect. Rising up next to Pala, I tossed it across the invisible line, marked only by the round black disks, perhaps three inches in diameter, with an orange light flickering. They were spaced out at regular intervals along the box-shape formed by the buildings. As soon as the rock passed over them, a whirling alarm swam into my eardrums, making them throb, and a wall of flames appeared along the motion-sensor line.

 

I ground my teeth in frustration. We didn't have very long, now. Everyone's armbands would have alerted them, and all of the Witnesses would be swarming us in less than two minutes. And we were sitting ducks, completely and utterly trapped.

 

"What do we do?" Pala asked, despair in her voice.

 

Instead of an answer, I worked on the solution. I didn't have enhanced brain cells for nothing. Staring at the fire, I watched it flicker and dance. Mocking me, because it knew the answer I so desperately needed.

 

And then it hit me with the force of one of the Magnatrans that Muddles used to travel. Without so much as a blink, I zoomed right through the flames, and emerged unhurt, having not felt a thing. "Come on," I spun to face Pala. "Fly through!"

 

"Are you crazy?" She gasped. I smiled, remember the last time she'd said that to me. So much had changed since then, and I guessed from Pala's expression that she was thinking the same.

 

"Pala. I've gotten you this far, haven't I? I've  lied, pleaded, stolen, deceived, and flouted the laws to save you. If you can't trust me, who can you trust? And how can I trust you?" As I looked at her, I noticed for the first time that her wavy, maple-colored hair had been hacked to her shoulders by the prison officials, and her face was grimy from her time in the cell. It was more than that, though. My perspective of her had changed, drastically. I no longer viewed her as a filthy rat, as I once had, and more importantly, I didn't think of her as an enemy, but an ally. A friend. And I wasn't going to leave her here to die. "Trust me," I repeated.

 

She nodded, eyes sparking with fear, but then she was suddenly next to me, looking bemused to how she got there. "How-" she started, but I held up a hand to stop her. There was no time for expalanations.

 

We started flying north, to a place Pala knew of, a city started by Naturals and Runners, called Alexandria. It was a name I vaguely recalled from Witness History, a place of knowledge and learning from long ago. According to Pala, it was very cold and tended to snow often; though she'd never been there herself, she knew of it. "My father instructed me to go there in...an emergency," she explained. "If he nor Uncle Wes could help me. The coordinates are 50 degrees west, ninety north." We programmed our notus accordingly.

 

I was fairly certain that no one had come after us. A miracle. Maybe Cril had stopped them, though I wasn't sure if he had that much influence- or, indeed, that much concern for me. Professor Taro had always favored me. Maybe he thought to save my life, for surely I'd be killed for defecting the Witnesses. Most likely for their absence, though, I had to admit, was that we simply weren't worth the time and effort. After all, I was a Witness, too, every bit as smart and capable as they. They'd be hard cut to find us if we didn't want to be found. Besides, we were two young girls. Not exactly a revolution. Then again, I was equally sure that our names were forever going to be legends in the Academy, like Tain's had been before us.

 

About half an hour down the line, Pala turned to face me, still flying forward. "Why?" she asked.

 

I thought I understood her meaning. "Because you don't deserve that fate. No one does. I guess I've always known that, deep down. You were the first captive who befriended me and made me see it, that's all. You humanized yourself enough that I was able to forget my predjudices."

 

Pala pursed her lips. "That's not what I meant," she corrected. "I meant, why are you here? You didn't have to come. You weren't planning on it, before."

 

I sighed having absolutely no desire to discuss this particular topic with anyone. Still, she'd opened this can of worms; she deserved to see the truth inside. I explained to her- as objectively as I could- about Cril's betrayal.

 

"Was he... a good friend of yours?" she asked tentatively.

 

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Not just a friend," I whispered. "I loved him. And he broke every promise he ever made to me. Everything he said meant nothing. But that doesn't matter now," I said, opening my eyes.

 

Pala appeared to understand that this was a touchy subject for me, and she moved away from it. "How did you know about the fire?" she wanted to know. "How did you know it wouldn't burn us?"

 

Pleased at the change of subject, I told her. "There was no heat coming off," I explained. "It was just an illusion, a projection of molecules, that's all."

 

Pala's eyes opened wide. "Swishy," she breathed in admiration.

 

I shrugged, looking away. "You've just got to know how they function." I don't think either of us failed to notice that I no longer considered myself a Witness. It was 'them' and 'us' now. "What are we, now?" I wondered then. "Are you still a Natural? I'm not a Witness anymore. I'm certainly not a Natural. I can't really be considered a Runner, since I'm not fighting off the glutamic acid effects. Where do I- we- fit in?"

 

She considered that. "I'm still a Natural, I think. And you. You're a revolutionary, Melrose. You're like nothing I've ever heard of before. A Witness with a heart. Never," she muttered to herself. "What an oxymoron."

 

I clenched my teeth and faced Pala. "So now I'm a freak," I stated flatly. "A weirdo with a warped head. Thanks."

 

She shook her head and laughed. My world was falling apart- I was a tree, loosing all my beautiful leaves- no, giving my leaves away, to help someone else.  Shucking off my carefully arranged branches, fitting perfectly into the forest no more. Letting everything fall, drifting away in the breeze. And she was laughing.

 

Seeing my expression, she cut off. "I don't mean it like that. I mean...you're a leader. I think that you're the kind of person who could lead a charge or start a rebellion. The person that can transform everything, who can make things happen- the sort that crosses the pages of history. That's who you are, Mel. And that's why we need you."

 

Her last words were unexpected, sent my mind reeling into a frenzy. "What did you say?" I hissed through my teeth. "You need me? So I was a pawn to you, then? This wasn't an accident, that you were captured. You and your uncle did this intentionally, just to get me on your side.

 

I watched her jaw muscles tighten, a rubber band being stretched to its limit. "Of course," she said stiffly. "I'm surprised you hadn't already figured it out."

 

I laughed bitterly. "Then you've lied to me as much as Cril," I said, my voice like shattered glass. "So much for telling me everything." Pala didn't answer, and I contemplated turning around. I eventually decided against it, more for my well-being than hers. The consequences would be horrid. And, though I hated to admit it, she still didn't deserve to be murdered, however deceptive she'd been. Though my mind was cloudy with ire, I was still lucid enough to understand that.

 

The two of us flew in silence for what seemed like an era of a thousand years- my armband said that forty minutes passed without a word from either of us. I was plainly furious; I coudn't think clearly, and I was sure that my brain had been incinerated by the flames of my rage. I yearned to know how Pala felt- her face was irritatingly placid. I swear, she lived to annoy me. That tranquil expression must take years to perfect. I'd just saved her life- several times, actually, releasing her from the jail and through the wall of fire- and she repayed it by saying she'd used me. If there's one thing I absolutely hate, it's being manipulated. I can't stand it, it drives me up the wall. As you may have gathered thus far, I liked- no, needed, to be the one in charge, who determined the outcome. The worst feeling was that of passiveness; to have action occuring around me, molding my life, and other controlling my future, was unbearable.

 

"I'm sorry." Pala broke through my thoughts. How inconsiderate. Didn't the girl have any manners? "You're right. We shouldn't have done it. But I had to, Mel. We- the Naturals and Runners- can't go on like this. We need change." Her voice grew desperate, and I found myself drawn to the sound. I noticed I was clutching my shirt over my heart, and I quickly smoothed it out. Maybe that was my problem- I couldn't resist someone in need. It was like an addiction. An addiction, I surmised, that I'd have to break soon, or suffer the consequence. All of which would cause me more trouble.

 

"What for? Why me?" I asked, hating myself instantly for forgiving her so quickly.

 

"I told you. We needed a Witness with the mindset of a Runner. We've been observing your Complex for months now. We picked you because you always seemed to be in charge, and you never quite relished the cruelty like the rest." She squinted at me, all apologetic now. "And because the way you seemed uncertain about killing innocents. I was sent in precisely because I was your age and gender, so you might sympathize with me- to begin changing the way you think. Uncle Wes..." she swallowed, plainly fighting back tears. "He wasn't supposed to die. You were supposed to help us both get away."

 

My eyebrows scrunched together. "Oh, don't," I said awkwardly. "Don't cry. I'm sorry I couldn't save your uncle, too."

 

Pala shook her head no. "Not your fault." She sounded resigned, like she'd done this before. I wouldn't be surprised if she had. "We both knew the risks. It's not the first time we've lost someone."

 

I wondered what she meant by that. As of now, all I really understood was that this was a dangerous business. "Come on," I told her. "It's getting done, we shouldn't fly much longer." She agreed, and we lowered to the ground. "I'll look for food."

 

She gave a toothy grin. "Me, too." I had the funny feeling that we had some very different ideas of what "dinner" was.

 

We went in polarized directions. After fifteen minutes, I had gathered a good meal. Not exactly a feast, but it was food, and it wouldn't taste too bad after I'd roasted them. I'd scavenged an edible springy moss, some spruce-tree bark, several plants' roots, crimson-and-golden nasturtium blossoms, which tasted fresh and tangy, and a treat- I'd discovered that these woods held a myriad of wild garlic.

 

I carried my success back to the three we'd left our notus under and deposited the food there. A second later, Pala emerged from the wood, dragging something that left a trail of fluid. I gasped when I saw what it was- the soft flesh of a deer. Dead.

 

We never ate meat at the Academy- no one really did, not even the Muddles. To be honest, I'm still not sure why. Perhaps because it was more productive to create one pound of wheat than one pound of beef. Regardless, I'd never seen anything so thoroughly dead before. It horrified me.

 

"But....that's murder!" I cried, back away.

 

Pala's eyes terrified me. "Murder?" she repeated quietly. "Murder was what they did to my father and uncle. One human killing another. Though I know you thought of us as animals," she scoffed.

 

What could I say to that? "It's still killing," I pointed out. "That part of my life is over. I'll never kill anyone- or any animal- again, if I can help it. Not as long as I live."

 

How silly those words seem to me know. They were a pretty speech when I said them, and at the time, I did honestly mean them.  But so much has changed. You see, the Doves- hypocrites that I now know them to be- are opposed to all kinds of conflict. They just want everything to flow swimmingly along with their plans. Arguing is bad. Contradiction is worse. War is the worst. I've learned, though, that this philosophy- like everything else in my world- is not as it seems. While I will never bloody my hands with the murder of innocents again, you also can't just sit back and play nice. You have to fight for what you believe in, fight for equality, freedom- life.

 

That, as you will discover, was the most difficult part of my new life to accept. Sometimes,, death is inevitable. You've got to kill. This is war.

 

But back to the past. It's time to learn exactly how I reached that new life.

 

Pala shrugged, quite cheerful. "More for me, then." She pulled her knife- now protruding from the doe's chest- and slit the animal's stomach open; a tapestry of entrails spilled out. With her bare hands (much to my acute horror), she reached inside and pulled out a large squishy organ, still pulsing. There was a slimy brown syrup over it...somehone, it took me several long moments to realize it was blood. She raised the lump to her mouth, as if to bite into it like an apple.

 

"Wait!" I interrupted her quickly. "At least cook it."

 

She raised one brow. "Have you got a match?" Pala asked skeptically.

 

"Better." I took one of the lighter tablets from my pack, a small, white square that had the consistency of chalk. It was contained in a plastic package filled with a blue gel, which prevented it from spontaneously combusting. Pala seemed mystified by it- there were perks to living in the city, after all. "Watch," I commanded, lying it on a patch of bare dirt I had cleared. I ripped open the package and blew on the tablet, providing the oxygen required to ignite it. I'd never had to use them before, but my training worked as it was supposed to. The tablet burst into flames, and within minutes there was a merry campfire, winking and crackling with life. Pala looked unconvinced about the whole cooking thing, like it didn't matter one way or the other, but she hacked the carcass up into smaller pieces and roasted them on a stick anyway. For my part, I did the same with my plants, and ate the bark raw. Pala and I shared the garlic, and I was surprised by how sweet it was.

 

"So if garlic keeps vampires away, does it ward off Witnesses, too?" Pala joked with a grin.

 

"Nope." I popped my lips. "But I've heard that water melts Naturals. Shall we try?" I nodded toward the stream, assuming she'd read the ancient book about Oz.

 

I never got to hear the reply. I heard a soft hush-hush, like the creator of the noise was far away. My eyes widened, and both of us froze, rabbits in the face of a wolf. I knew that sound. I wasn't positive if Pala recognized it or not, but she must know it wasn't good. And she would be right. It was a bionic retaiiner, a form of large transportation. BRs were all black in color, for stealth, and shaped like a saucer, as thin as a bear in hybernation. Controlled, as always, by a Witness. I had been taught to drive one, but I'd failed miserably at it, nearly crashing into a Muddle domicile, much to my chagrin. Unfortunately, they meant serious danger for Pala and I. Equipped with nets and high-pressured waterjets, they weren't designed to kill a person, but they could capture or render one unconscious. Of course, they would kill you as soon as you reached the Witness Complex, but according to the Dove's Decree, that was different. Compared to a gun or missile, death by injection was nothing. Peaceful, even. Nonviolent. Practically harmless. Except you were dead.

 

The whirring grew louder, the sound of the BR cutting through the air. "Come on!" I screamed to Pala, treading in the fire to extinguish it. After thrusting her pack at her, I snatched my own, and she followed me into the darker trees, where the foilage was at its thickest. I was confident we had erased all signs of our presence except the fire. The lighter tablet had nearly been burnt out anyway. All they'd find was a small burned spot that could have been created by lightning. I was still panicky, though. How had they possibly found us? We were a long way from home...No, I corrected myself. Not home. Not anymore. It had been a place of sacrifice, I realized now. All the Naturals and Runners, killed for fighting back. They were all being martyred to preserve the Doves' power and influence.

 

But how had these Witnesses known to look here? They didn't send out BRs for routine. They were purel for emergenceies. In the wrong hand, a bionic retainer would prove disasterous for the Witnesses, and they rarely risked their precious machines. They wouldn't just happen up us like this- maybe I had underestimated the threat we presented. Maybe they were shaken that one of their own had betrayed them.

 

Thankfully, though, the sound dimmed, like it was flying away. They must have decided we were somewhere else. But that didn't make me any less anxious.

 

"Come on," I whispered to Pala. "We've got to start flying." She looked at me before raising her stare to the night sky pointedly, clearly questioning my sanity and I answered her unspoken question. "I'll explain it it in a moment." We both mounted our notus, and I began speaking so rapidly and quietly, I couldn't be certain she heard, though she seemed to be listening. "We've got to get out of this area and fast."

 

"But why?" she wondered, not understanding. "Are you sure that the BR was looking for us?" I was always surprised by how much Pala knew about my world.

 

"Let's just say it wasn't a coincidence it passed right over us," I said grimly. "And the worst part is, I haven't got a clue how they found us."

 

Pala surveyed me with a critical eye. "You don't have some microchip trace in your brain, do you?"
 

I shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. "No," I denied quickly. "At least..." I chewed my lip. "I don't think so." The idea that I might be the cause of the close call was sickening. If she was right, how could we get the chip out? Could we?

 

She saw my stricken face, and her arm bridged the gap between our notus to touch my arm comfortingly. "Don't worry. I'm sure it's not that," she reassured me. "That was just me thinking aloud, a stupid idea. Ignore it."

 

Easier said than done. I was thoroughly unconvinced, and I kept picturing Pala holding a scalpal over my skull. Scary thought, especially considering th way Pala tended to rush things, kind of like me. I couldn't stop the flurry of creepy images flashing in my head. It didn't take long for me to be distracted.

 

As the old adage so wisely tells, "No good deed goes unpunished." And so it was. Even though I was really trying to be a noble person and stand up for the truth (for the first time in my life), even though I was doing my utmost to save Pala, misfortune seemed to follow me like a moth to a light. The whirling of the BR started up again, approaching more rapidly than before. Only this time, we were in the air, totally and utterly exposed, with no where at all to hide. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I berated myself. The bionic retainer must have been lying low, waiting for us to reveal ourselves. We had stepped right into their crafty palms.

 

Well, there was only one thing I could do. Pala was my best friend now- my only friend, actually, when I remembered how Cril had betrayed me, and how ignorantly egocentic Viol and Ava were. (Well, that wasn't entirely true, since Ava hadn't wanted to kill prisoners either, but she hadn't had the guts to change anything.) I was the one they really wanted. Pala could still escape. This might be the last thing I'd do for my friend. "Go!" I ordered, giving her a push. "I'll fly off, and they'll follow me, not you. Hide in the woods and leave when we've left. I'm sorry!"

 

Pala had that extremely annoying obstinent look, the same unmoving, incomprehensibly stubborn expresssion her uncle had worn when I'd first met him. "No. No way," she refused her freedom, point blank. "I'm not leaving you behind, Melrose. Sorry. We need you. Remember the cause? The rebellion? Freedom for all? That's what you represent to us. A beacon of hope. Besides...you're my friend."

 

"Exactly. That's why I'm making you leave, Pala. Don't be stupid. Why should we both get caught? It's inevitable for me, but you've still got a chance." I was getting desperate now. They were one hundred meters away and closing. "Listen, I swear I'll escape. I know the coordinates to Alexandria, and I'll meet you there as soon as I can. Don't worry about me; I'll take care of myself. Go, Pala. Go!"

 

Finally, she listened, descending quickly with worried eyes. I watched her go a second before coming to my senses and zipping away to lead the BR away from Pala. I knew I couldn't outrun the Witnesses forever- even though my notus was faster than their colossal retainer- because they could easily corner me with another BR. I had no lurking doubt that another hid nearby. But I could draw them further from Pala.

 

It didn't take long for the three BRs had me neatly trapped. With no other options, I surrendered, raising one finger up in the gesture of defeat. A net spun out from the hull of one, enveloping me. I didn't bother to fight, knowing it was futile. The webbed nylon drew me in through a hatch, notus and all.

 

My welcome consisted of a kick in the stomach- sure that popping sound was the eruption of my liver- and a few sprinkles of water on my face. I opened my eyes, deducing that it wasn't innocent water droplets, but filthy, foreign saliva. Someone had spin in my face.

 

For the third time that day- or was it morning yet?- I was incapacitated with rage. Their disrespect incensed me. I, who had been honored and adored my position required, had been treated so harshly? It struck like a lightning bolt. Didn't they know who I was?

 

Oh. Of course. That thought made me feel stupid. They obviously knew who I was. No wonder they acted like I was a cockroach. In their mind, I was The Enemy. The Betrayer. Filth. Why should they give me anything other than maltreatment? Because I was saving lives and doing the right thing. But they didn't know that. Or maybe they didn't care.

 

"Why did you betray your country?" The spitter was right in my face, his nose an inch from mine. I wanted to sneer back, "What kind of country says it's a crime to be born? To think for yourself? What kind of country thinks that killing is good? Then shouldn't I kill you to be patriotic?" But I didn't. I wasn't that brave; it was all I could do not to flinch, and I didn't reply. What was that phrase that democracies used to use? "Innocent until proven guilty." Except, of course, this definitely wasn't a democracy, but still, the concept might apply. The man continued glaring at me, pushing more questions. It reminded me horribly of the night I'd interrogated Pala. The thought replused me enough to solidify my courage. "Are you indeed Witness Melrose? Where is the illegal? Where did you  plan on going- which Natural society? What are its coordinates?"

 

I was as eternal as flint, and Spitter gave up, evidently disgusted with my lack of cooperation. Good. I could hold out longer than he, and there was no sense in wasting both our time Especially for me, whose every second was numbered. Despite what I'd told Pala, I wasn't quite so positive about the outcome. I would put all my efforts into escape, but my situation was grim.

 

Spitter and a mouse-like older man shoved me into the BR's keep, a temporary jail cell. Mouse pushed a syringe through the bars; the cell was too small to squirm away from it, so with a quick prick, he injected me. I knew it wasn't the sodium pentobarbital- they wouldn't kill me yet, not when I was a wealth of information to be extracted- but I still wasn't keen on the unknown drug.

 

It was getting harder and harder to keep my thoughts trained clearly...everything was out of focus, like I'd gotten unnecessary eye modification...What did it matter, anyway, what the syringe held? I'll just close my eyes for a minute, I told myself drowsily. That won't hurt anything...And then the darkness peeled away the fingers of my conscience.

 

When I awoke, I was very disconcerted, vaguely recalling a dream, where I had been caught. But now...was I in the woods with Pala? Or maybe that had been a dream, too. Maybe I should be all the way back in my Dorm, waking peacefully in the soft mattress next to Viol and Ava's beds.

 

A black boot gave me the proof I needed; this was not a dream. As the boot landed on my face, I could feel my nose break as the pain started shooting down my nerves, and I heard a horrid crunching sound. The metallic taste of blood colored my mouth. My eyes followed the leg attached to the boot, and found myself looking into the face of a man I instinctively shrinked away from. His box-like face, stern and enraged, reminded me of a military general, and his arms were the size of my whole body. My first thought was that his head was on fire; in the next instant, I gathered that his hair was simply a fierce red-orage that couldn't possibly be found in nature. I scrambled to my feet swiftly and squirmed away before he had a chance to break any more of my bones. "Move," he said harshly, nudging me with his toe.

 

I was infuriated. I wasn't going to be a cowering little squirrel, so quick to submit! But I knew, also, that in order to get my revenge on the burning-man and the rest, that I'd have to stay calm and plan. And right now I needed to fix my nose. "Oh!" I wailed, clutching my stomach dramatically. "I've never been good with motion! I'm going to throw up!"

 

The burning-man backed away, repulsed. He obviously didn't want his nice uniform dirtied up by me, which I'd been counting on. "Get away from me!" He ordered. "There's a bathroom in the back, right through there." He pointed, and I stumbled away for effect.

 

I bolted the bathroom door, grateful for the lock. No one could disturb me. Looking in the mirror, my nose was even worse than I thought. There was blood all down my face, covering my neck and staining the violet turtleneck and gray pleated skirt I wore, even the hooded gray cloak (my customary outfit). That wouldn't have mattered, except that if I managed to escape, I'd have to travel in these clothes. Even the stupidest of Muddles would notice a young girl, walking alone, in bloodsoaked apparel. That was the least of my problems, though. I still had to escape.

 

First and foremost, though, I had to deal with my bleeding face. I snagged the fluffy white towel (nothing but the best for Witnesses!) and tried to rip it, but it was too thick for that. My instinct told me that science applied to everything. Bringing back the memory of a physics calss where we'd studied leverage, I wrapped the cloth around the towelrack and braced my feet against the wall. This time, with a tearing sound that grated on my nerves, it tore a length of fabric about an inch wide and two feet long. I straightened out the bones in my nose as best I could, wincing at the pain, seetting them so they would hopefully heal properly. I knew some medical technique; I probably understood enough to fix most minor problems, though doctoral studies had never been my aptitude. But it wasn't as though I had to do heart surgery, I reasoned. How hard could it be to mend a nose?

 

I wrappd the strip of towel around my face to hold it stead, and used the larger piece to mop up the worst of the blood. Then I started gathering everything- the bar of the towelrack and even the soap, anything that mightbe helpful. I even took the wire out of the soap caddy. I slid the towelrack down one of my violet stockings, then placed the wire and soap in my skirt's pocket before returning to the burning man's scorching gaze in the hull of the BR.

 

"What took you so long?" he grabbed my arm and wrenched me around. "Never mind. Sit down." The burning man indicated the prisoner's chair in the center of the hull, a cruel-looking, sleek-metal seat. The weight of a person activated the lasercuffs to mind the captive to the chair.

 

Nervously, I lowered myself into the prisoner's chair, and the green beams of light laced themselves around my wrists. If I tried to move, my wrists would be lopped right off. So much for escape. "Don't move," the burning man barked befoe striding away, presumably to the cockpit. Evidently they thought I wasn't enough of a problem to watch carefully. They would be wrong.

 

All right. I had a chance- however minute- of surviving, but only if I could get out here fast. My legs were still free, but they weren't much use to me. If I got my arms lose, I'd make some progress.

 

I shimmied my right foot- the one with the towelrack rod- against the chair's leg, scrunching my sock down to my angle and letting the plastic rod clatter to the floor. I drew in a tense breat, waiting to see if the noise would alert the burning man, or Spitter and Mouse. No one came, though, and I squeezed the pole with my feet like they were chopsticks, taking care not to move my arms. Do you know how impossible it is to lift a rod up with your feet without using your hands at all? I ended up tensing my right arm accidentally, and gasped as searing pain flowed up my arm, and a deep, blistering burn began to form across the back of my wrist, a perfect line of the lastercuff. Eventually, though< I managed to figure out that I only had to raised the bar to the level of my waist. From here, I could reach out my neck and take hold of the end with my teeth. Very carefully, I prodded the button next to the cuffs, and a recorded voice chimed.

 

"Are you a Witness?" Giving the cockpit door a covert glance, I gave a confirmation. The voice spoke again. "Password?"

 

Now that might be a serious flaw to my plan.

 

There were Witness Complexes all over the world, but the person who would have programmed this BR would have been Professor Taro, head of my old Complex. He would have decided the password. What would he have picked? I didn't know very much about his personal life. Or did I?

 

"Ora," I whispered, trying his wife's name.

 

"Access denied."

 

All right, I thought to myself. His other love was his career. "Paix eternelle?" I guessed, speaking the Witness motto.

 

"Access denied. Alarm will sound at next incorect password," the voice informed me serenely.

 

I groaned aloud., narrowing my eyes in concentration. One more shot, and if I was wrong, I'd probably be killed before I had another chance to escape.

 

But then, something Professor Taro had said drifted back to me..."Besides, I love you like a daughter." Had he really meant it? It was a long shot, but...it was worth a try. "Melrose,"  I said my own name clearly.

 

 

"Password correct. Access granted. Pilot will be notified of your release. "Damn," I swore softly, even as the lasers retracted into their bases. I didn't have much time now. Frantically, I jabbed the button again. "Delay!" I ordered it.

 

"You do not have rights to do this."
 

Ugh. Of all the luck. Could one more misfortune arise? Nah- I really didn't want to know.

 

I chanced a glance out the window, and my trained eyes judged the distance to the ground. We were flying fairly low, now more than fifty feet up. A flash of good luck, finally.

 

In order to reach the door, though, I'd have to go through the passage that connected the hull to the cockpit. If the pilot turned around, he'd see me, in plain sight. And he'd definitely hear the door opening. If I was lucky (a highly doubtable occurence), I would be gone before they could catch me. If I wasn't lucky, well...I wouldn't be any worse off than I was before, I told myself as I steeled my resolve and made my way through the door and into the connective passageway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Incomplete! Go ahead and read/comment, though. Thanks!