Starport: Zeta Prime (Alt) (2 page)

“
Gone.” He whispered,
waiting for her reaction with a gleeful smile.

For some reason, an icy trepidation started
g
rowing in the pit of
Jillian’s stomach. Logic began creeping into her consciousness, no
matter how hard she tried to fend it off. The prisoner’s crude
actions and shouted assumptions from other prisoners had done
nothing but confirm her initial fears. There was only one thing in
the near vicinity that would require a bomb big enough to cause an
explosion of that magnitude. There was only one thing that would
cause such a shake to the ground as it collapsed… the star
portal.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she
analyzed what this may mean. The military
clearly thought she was already a part of some rebel group working
to destroy the gateway. If it had now been blown up …. Jillian sank
onto the hard bed as she exhaled. It would be bad news for her.
Regardless of the ludicrous accusations that had already been made,
she had clearly failed in her job somewhere if a rebel organization
had planned an obstruction of that size without her picking up on
it. And as the bomb had gone off so soon after she had left the
area, it would look like it had been brought in while she was still
on duty.

The
conclusion was
that she had either missed something crucial on her rounds, which
she very much doubted–she knew for a fact that she was good at her
job, nothing ever got past her–or, the bomb had been planted as
soon as she’d left. Which left her with the theory that this had to
have been an inside job, and if that was so, then somebody had set
her up to take the fall for it.

Chapter
Two

It seemed to take hours for the chaos to die
down
, although Jillian’s
heart rate did not seem to slow as the time passed. Some of the
prisoners had taken to quiet reflection after receiving no
information from the guards, who seemed shell-shocked and hectic in
the continuation of their duties inside the bunker.

Jillian
joined the
majority of them by sitting on her bed and trying to piece what
little knowledge she had together. She was heartbroken at the
thought that they were now completely cut off from Earth and
empathized with the crying from the other cell. The excitement of
the near completion of the gateway had brought so much joy as
people anticipated seeing family and loved ones after decades
apart. Although she had no one left there herself, Jillian had felt
her own thrill at being able to visit in a matter of seconds–Earth
was, after all, her home planet. She also felt a strange sense of
loss. The colony on Zeta Prime was now completely isolated–a rescue
ship would be at least twenty years away. For now and for a long
time, they were alone.

* * * *

Mikey could have cried as he regarded the conditions of the
prison, he couldn’t believe such a burst of life like
Jillian was locked up in such a
dank, soul-less place. After hearing the reasons for her arrest, he
had done a little cautious snooping and had started to suspect a
plot from the inside. He didn’t believe it was anyone from their
security firm–they worked together far too closely and Jillian was
sharp, she would have definitely picked up on unusual
behavior.

He was inclined to think there was a terrorist cell inside
the military, but knew well enough to keep his
suspicions to himself before he had any proof.
In the meantime, he knew he had to help his boss.

Thankful for his training, he accosted a guard protecting
the outside force field perimeter. The bomb from earlier meant that
he was too busy on his handset, distracted, which made sneaking up
from behind easier than he’d anticipated. He had stunned the man to
the floor
and with
heart-stopping speed, had dragged him just inside the cover of
forest to don his clothes and procure the most important item–the
key fob.

A
fine sheen of sweat
across his forehead, he’d used the fob to drop the field and tried
to look confident as he made long strides into the bunker. If he
were caught now, he and Jillian would run the risk of both spending
a lifetime incarcerated.

Keeping his head down, he located
Jillian’s cell quickly and made his way over, mouth
dry with fear.

“
Mikey.” She
breathed
in relief at seeing her old friend and colleague approach her. He
stood rigidly and only gave the slightest of smiles in
greeting.

“
There isn’t
much
time.” He darted his eyes in the direction of the guards. “They
think you were working with the supremists to destroy the gateway.
It’s gone.” He finished sadly.

Jillian
opened her
mouth to protest her innocence but Mikey raised his palm to stop
her.

“
I know you weren’t involved, I know, but there’s no way of
proving that to the others now. The way it stands, you’re gonna be
charged with this.” He leant very close and lowered his voice
further.

“
You have to get out of here
.” He clutched her hand affectionately. Jillian tried to
hide her shock as she felt a small metal fob pressed into her
palm.

“
It is a master. It’ll unlock your cell. Also, there’s a
f
orce field around the
perimeter–I saw two key pads to lower it–one north and one south of
this bunker. Use the fob and wait until the field drops. Choose
your moment Jillian, and good luck.”

She
stared at him,
absorbing the sincerity in his brown eyes–the pity. She had worked
with Mikey for over a year and trusted him with her life. She knew
he was putting himself at great risk allowing her to escape, and
amongst the tornado of disbelief whipping inside her, she also felt
a warm ball of gratitude at his loyalty.

Placing her palm on his cheek, she bid
him a silent goodbye. He tilted his head onto
her warm hand, conveying his sadness at the situation, then turned
and left her alone once more.

Jillian
sat on the
edge of her bed and tried not to think too hard about what was
happening and why. Right now, she needed to focus on the most
pressing task at hand–escaping an unfair prison sentence for a
crime she did not commit. She watched the guards carefully, one of
them would always do a round every couple of minutes or so but they
were mostly aghast at the news of the destruction of the star gate,
and conveniently had their focus elsewhere.

Th
e prisoner to the
left of her was in his bed, covered with a grey scratchy blanket.
Despite them being curled in a fetal position to sleep, she could
tell this person was mighty from the outline of the sleeping mass.
Not that it mattered. Sleeping people were not going to be a threat
to her plan. The row of cells directly opposite her all seemed to
be empty, and she decided that path was probably the best route
out.

School
teacher man was looking at her with interest. He had seen the tall,
dark guard whispering and had been curious. The guard’s stance had
been too furtive–guilty almost. He had positioned himself so he
could get the best view possible of the exchange, but
frustratingly, he hadn’t been able to make out the conversation.
Remaining there, he wondered what was so special about this new
female that entitled her to private conversations with the
staff.

Jillian
noticed him
gawping, and gave him a look so sharp he hung his head in guilt at
being caught. She would have to wait for this one to sleep, he had
an air of untrustworthiness, and instinct told her that he would be
likely to alert the guards should she be bold enough to simply walk
out under his gaze.

She lay
on her side
and shut her eyelids tight to feign sleep, in the hope that he
would do the same. There would be no hope of the blissful ignorance
of slumber for her, but she concentrated on the rush of air filling
and then empting from her lungs in an effort to stop her thoughts
racing. Knowing that she would have to make her move soon, whilst
the guards were still pre-occupied, she prized open her eyes just a
crack. The tubby man was still watching her and she ground her
teeth in annoyance. Keeping the rise and fall of her chest steady
and slow, so as to appear deep asleep, she kept a lookout on him.
Waiting.

After what
felt like an age, the school teacher reached round and pulled a
dark curtain around his cage and he disappeared from view.
Forgetting her act, she sat bolt upright in surprise, then looked
up to the corner of her cell–there was a thick curtain hanging,
bunched into a strip. How had she not noticed before? They must
have put these up to enable prisoners a modicum of privacy when
using the bathroom.

As the curtain next door opened again, t
he man showed no signs of tiredness. Indeed, he
sat very much still transfixed with his strange female neighbor.
This was the most interesting occurrence he’d seen in
weeks.

She counted
another five minutes in her head, avoiding eye contact with the
nosy prisoner and looking as nonchalant and relaxed as she could
whilst feeling the exact opposite to either. When she’d considered
an appropriate amount of time had passed and no guards were nearby,
casually, she pulled her own curtain across all four sides of the
cage. Hoping with every bit of her being that the man would be
looking away now he couldn’t see her, she reached the fob to the
front of the lock. It opened easily and she allowed herself just
enough space to squeeze her body through.

Not bothering to see if she had been
spotted
–it would be too late
now if she had, and stopping to check could cost precious
seconds–Jillian kept her body lowered, darting as quietly as she
could to the row of empty cells opposite, glad of her dark
clothing. Scanning up and down the next row, she felt a beat of
relief at seeing they, too, were empty, and she jumped across the
pathway towards them. From here, she could see the edges of the
bunker, and afforded herself a minute to try and orientate a back
door. Running blind would be foolish–she had only one shot at this
and she had to do it right.

Despite the light being poor, she noticed the shiny keypad
next to a small square in the side of the bunker. The square looked
like it was quite high, and was certainly not
big enough to be a door. She figured it must be
a delivery hatch or something, and decided it would be her best
chance. It was four foot off the ground, but she was fit and
agile–she knew she could clear it. Trusting that the magnetic fob
Mikey had left her was indeed a master, she took a run up to the
keypad, stabbing it with her stolen key and swinging herself up to
the now open hatch.

Jillian
winced as her
boot caught the edge of the bunker. A dull noise vibrated from the
contact, but she was not sticking around to see if anyone had
heard. The momentum of her jump shot her through the opening, and
she automatically hit the ground outside in a shoulder
roll–military training had a lot of uses–so she barely lost speed
as she raced towards the perimeter fence.

Darting her head up a
nd down the shimmering force field surrounding the prison,
she tried to spot the next keypad that would drop the protection
and finally lead her to freedom. She continued to sprint, but as
she approached the edges, a loud siren blast across the area,
coupled with sweeping white lights. Adrenalin poured into her blood
stream as she frantically tried to locate the keypad to disable the
force field, hyper aware that her chance was slipping
away.

Ironically, it was one of the search l
ights that alerted her to where it was, the
silver of the pad glinting as the beam passed it. Fifty yards and
she would be out. Forty. Thirty. Heart threatening to pound from
her chest, Jillian practically leapt towards the pad, jumping from
foot to foot with anxiety as the milliseconds it took for the field
to come down felt like hours.

It fizzled, and she leapt like a lion pouncing on
prey
away from the walls of
the prison, leaving the shouts and sirens behind her, running like
she had never run before–a poker hot burn firing in her lungs as
she sprinted towards the surrounding forest.

Faron
had alerted two
of the strongest members of his tribe and brought them to the place
where the oddly compelling human female had been held captive. He
had almost laughed out loud when he caught her racing from the ugly
building–this woman had fight, and he liked it. The trio was
startled by the wailing from the sirens and the harshness of the
search lights, and from his position high in the tree, he saw men
running, pointing, and shouting at each other.

He knew they
were looking for the woman, understood that she had escaped
somehow. As the men spilled out towards the forest, he turned to
his companions.

“
Stop them,” h
e
commanded in his native tongue. Without hesitation, the three
cat-people slunk down from the branches and in two agile strides
were before the men, bringing them to a hesitant halt. From
standing, Faron and his men sprang into the air–landing with such
force onto the front few guards that they sunk to the ground
immediately. One of the cat-people took a swipe across his
opponent’s face–opening a red, oozing gash. Faron leapt onto two
others, knocking them like dominoes. The remaining guards raised
their guns at the aliens, hands shaking. Pouncing on the weapons
and knocking them out of reach, the humans raised their hands in
surrender.