She was lying, panting in the dust, gingerly feeling her knee where she had injured it when crashing to the tunnel floor. It was skinned and raw just below the kneecap with the blood slowly congealing around the edge, but still leaking from the center. Just then, a new pain suddenly bit into her consciousness, and she could feel her shoulder burning from the phasor bolt. She explored the wound and found that blisters had already formed. It was painful for her to move her arm in any direction. The skin was seared and made a slight crackling sound when she pushed on it with her fingers. If the bolt had been a few inches lower, she would have been in the hands of the patrollers, being cared for so they could send her to the crystal pits to die a slow death.
She sat up wondering about her pursuers. If they had enough stored energy remaining in their power packs, it would take them at least half an hour with their phasors set on low power to burn through the door, or if they decided to go back through the nearest access tunnel into the main and then along the tracks to the station and to the tunnel she was in, it would still take them fifteen minutes, unless they ran all the way, which she knew they wouldn’t.
She had time and if she was going to make an escape, it had to be now.
With a lot of effort she stood to her feet and began groping along the wall. The tunnel was pitch black making her progress slow. She put one foot in front of the other, being careful not to trip over any debris. The main tunnel was about a hundred yards ahead. If she could make it that far with no nasty surprises, and if there were no patrollers in the underground station, she could escape to her friend's apartment and spend the night there.
They hadn't recognized her—she was sure of that. They hadn't had time to scan her with a body analyzer. And they hadn't taken any pictures. If they captured her brother, he wouldn't tell them anything. If she knew her brother, he would name off one of the councilman's wives. She was fairly certain Everette wouldn't name her, since he had already had a family member tortured and put to death by Hurd, and besides, he was a mountain man—true and loyal to his friends. She didn’t know about Samsung, but she sensed that he was a fierce and honorable warrior and that he would say nothing. And as far as a mind melt, they wouldn’t go to that expense for one rebel, nor would they take the chance of permanent brain damage—after all Hurd wanted men for the ‘run,’ and he needed men to mine his crystals.
Yes, she would fit back into society with no one suspecting her. And if her brother, Everette, and Samsung were captured, she would do what she could to help them escape.
She remembered that there was a middle passage somewhere ahead on the left, which traversed about fifty yards to a ladder taking anyone who climbed it into the park. It was a possible route of escape, but because of the scent, she would use this means of escape only as a last resort.
Instead of groping for the opening into the passage, she kept her hand on the wall to the right and moved on.
As she approached the large tunnel, her hopes began to crumble. There were new voices, and they were talking in excited tones. Since an all out revolution hadn't started yet, this was probably the most excitement they had had in weeks.
She moved closer until the voices were clear enough to hear.
"So far they've only caught one of them," said a gruff voice.
"Yeah, but I don't think the other three will get far," said a more moderate, optimistic voice.
"I hope not. If they get away, Hurd might take it out on us."
"I don't think so," replied the other voice. "If anything he would take it out on the Captain, maybe bust him down to a Sergeant."
"Maybe, but sometimes Hurd's in a bad mood, and he takes it out on everybody involved. Just a couple years ago he sent a whole squad to the pits. You remember that?"
"Sure. But that was different."
"There ain't no difference when he's in a bad mood." The gruff voice was obviously not happy with the situation.
"I still don't think . . ."
Viella had heard enough. Samsung had been caught, but there was nothing she could do about that. She had to think. The two patrollers were too close for her to escape through the main tunnel. She assumed they were posted at this location in case one of the revolutionaries made it back this far. She carefully turned around moving slowly so as not to make any noise and started toward the middle passage.
Going this way wasn't a choice she wanted to make, but now it was the only way remaining. If she had to, she would escape into the park, which was further from the apartment complexes than was safe for anyone out after curfew. She knew that the danger on the streets was potentially worse than being caught by the patrollers.
Her only hope was to get to the middle passage, and spend the night at the bottom of the ladder. In the morning, when the scents were shut down and locked away, she could emerge into the park and be on her way home.
The revolutionaries had been using the passages quite a bit, and the footprints in the dust and fungus were leading in all directions, because of this they wouldn't be able to track her, and they might figure she had made her escape before the other two patrollers had arrived in the main. Her hand, groping along the wall, suddenly touched nothing but air. It was the middle passage. She turned to her right and continued into the dark.
She walked toward an iron ladder, which would take her up to the metal hatch. Pushing it open, she would climb into the small city park. The park was only a block long and contained high reaching trees near the periphery. The grass was short and never grew more than an inch in height. There were no insects and no birds, the flowers were never pollinated, and the trees never lost their leaves. It reminded Viella of Nature without fertility.
She thought back when several weeks before, uniformed men had arrived in the park with a lot of equipment. It was rumored they were the Galaef's men on a secret mission, but what they were doing, no one knew. They had used heavy duty disintegrators to dig two holes about fifty feet apart, and finally, when the digging was done, they covered the holes with small domes and placed armed guards at the doorways.
The structures looked strange, protruding from the green grass of the park like two huge cream-colored mushrooms with doors in their stems and transparent windows in their heads. They were protecting something valuable, but no one knew what. It was rumored that an ancient underground building had been discovered. Perhaps all those men, who went in and out, were scientists exploring an archeological find. She wondered about one man in particular. He had smiled at her as he stepped out of one of the domes. Smiles were rare in Newusa, especially from those who considered themselves important. He was not much taller than average, but he had broad shoulders with well-formed muscles. His brown curly hair fell on his forehead. She thought that she would like to know him better.
Just then she struck a rock with her foot bringing her thoughts back to her present situation.
Her groping didn't last long. She reached the metal ladder and sat down to rest.
Hopefully the patrollers wouldn't follow her down this passage. If they did, she would either have to give up or flee into the night, which would mean she would be taking a chance of meeting with a horrible death. The choice would be a difficult one to make. If it had to be, she hoped it would be the right one.
She waited for at least an hour. Her eyes were growing heavy, and she was beginning to nod. It seemed they had lost her. Good, she thought, only half conscious. She slipped further into a light sleep, knowing that in the morning everything would be okay.
Abruptly, she was startled out of her light slumber. Voices were coming down the passage. She stood up and listened, trying to convince herself she had dreamed it, but again, the voices, and this time louder. And they were coming her way. She put her hand on the ladder. Now was the time to make her decision. She thought for only a moment, then started up the ladder. This way she had a chance. In the crystal pits there was no chance. She lifted the metal lid and emerged into the park. She waited. She listened.
Nothing.
She walked cautiously toward one of the trees.
Still nothing.
Her friend's apartment was only eight blocks away. She had a good chance of getting there unhurt.
She walked across the grass, then between two of the trees on the edge of the park, and across the street to the front of a large department store. The apartment complexes would be her haven of safety. The doors would be unlocked, and she would be able to get in from the danger of the night.
She began running. She had to hurry. Only seven more blocks and her worries would be over. She ran across the street and down the next block.
Somewhere in the back of her mind a nagging fear told her to go back. It told her that because of the distance there was no hope in her mad dash. Her decision to run for the apartment complexes was wrong. No one went outside at nighttime with the intent of traveling more than two blocks, or three at the very most. Death was almost always imminent.
Just then, as if fate had decided to prove her right with a horrible sense of irony, from above, like the soft sound of a passing patrol car, she heard a distant hum, and then as it came closer she could hear a whirrrr of a magnetic repulsion motor as it made its way through the night skies of Newusa. Instinctively she came to a halt.
She listened. Her mind still hoped for the impossible. The spaceport was too far away for her to hear the ships' engines. They didn't sound like this, anyway. It wouldn't be a private car. They weren't allowed out after curfew. It could be the hum of a patrol car, but in the back of her mind she knew it wasn't. It was the hum of the scent—the scream of death.
She looked up and then she saw it. Fear gripped her heart as she stared at the cold, metallic sphere. The starlight glinted from its shiny surface—cold and foreboding. It would show no mercy, for machines have no compassion.
Just then it scented her blood, and as she watched, its razor sharp blades began to whistle through the air, rotating about its circumference thirty six hundred revolutions per minute—fast enough to butcher any living thing in less than a split second.
It was the controlling device used by Hurd and his city council. (As on other planets, it was used to discourage revolutionaries.) A half an hour after curfew they were expelled from the tower, and their only purpose was to hunt, to track the scent of blood, to fall upon its prey in mutilating objectivity, and to kill.
Sweat broke out on her forehead. She ran to the front door of a clothing store. She started pushing the button and pounding on the door hoping someone was still inside working late. But there was no answer and the door was locked as they always were at night.
She had gambled and lost. She turned and looked up. She watched in desperation as the scent checked its flight. She clasped her hands over her head as the scent dropped from the sky.
She screamed.
Chapter Twenty