The Omega Cage (13 page)

The screen started to blink on the DM unit. He looked down at it. Uh-oh… the power reserves were down to 47 percent. How many more crossings could he make?

Could he draw more power in here? He tried, stabbing at the yellow button, but the level remained unchanged. So much for that idea.

He considered options. He would cross back into the prison, hide the DM, and hope for the best. They'd want to know how he got out of his locked cell, however, and that might put a big crimp in the escape plan. No, there must be a better way, but he couldn't keep blundering around much longer looking for it.

Passing through the wall five times had used almost half his power; that meant he might have five more shots before winding up stranded. If only there was a way to get into his cell from the other side…

Wait. He had an idea. It depended on whether or not the wall had shifted to another place behind him. If it had, it wouldn't work. But if that guard was still there, there was a chance.

The guard was still there, still watching the holoproj. Thank the gods for that!

Maro put the device down quietly, and walked up behind him. There was a pressure point on the neck, and a nerve junction… he chopped down hard with his right hand, at the same time stabbing with the open fingers of his left. The guard slumped over onto his control unit, unconscious. He would wake up sore and with a headache, but there wouldn't be any way he could know who had done it.

Maro studied the controls for the cell doors, set the timer, and unlocked the block admit and his own cell. He picked up the device and hurried down the dim corridor. If anybody saw him, they didn't say anything. He opened his door and moved inside, closing it behind him. Ten seconds later he heard the electronics
snick
! as his door relocked. He had made it! He felt a surge of triumph. The test had worked—partially, anyway—and he had overcome the glitches and made it back.

But his joy faded fast when he looked across the corridor and saw Berque smiling at him.

"I saw what you did," Berque said. "Take me with you when you go."

Chapter Fourteen

Stark glared at the holoproj floating over his com unit. "I'll be there tomorrow,"

Karnaaj said. "I trust you will have some results for me?"

Stark made his grin as wolfish as he could. "In fact, yes. I'm checking on the information even as we speak. I have a source who has learned several things from Maro that might interest you."

"Really?" Karnaaj seemed surprised, a fact that absolutely delighted Stark.

"Yes. We have our methods also, Commander."

"I hope so, Warden. Tomorrow at 0900, then." Stark leaned back from the com, feeling less confident. True, the InfoNet had told him that the name Maro gave to Berque did in fact exist. There were several dozen Tweels being checked, some of whom had criminal activity tied to them. Deeper investigation would no doubt reveal the proper man—or woman, if that was the case. The material on the bankers from Muto Kato was less satisfactory, it being such a broad subject to investigate, but it was progressing as well as could be expected at this point.

Now that he thought about it, something in Karnaaj's astonishment bothered Stark. It was as if the SIU man did not expect to actually learn what he purportedly wanted to know from the smuggler-turned-killer. Stark frowned.

Something rang atonally here.

It wasn't just Karnaaj's reaction. Other things, little things, had been happening that bothered him. The destruction of his cooler, for example; several circuits had been stolen, although, according to his computer, it would take a genius to figure out a way to use them to make any kind of killing weaponry. And one of his guards had claimed he had been attacked last night, though there was no way it could have happened. No prisoners were missing from their cells, and all guards were accounted for according to the work plates. Stark suspected that the man had simply fallen asleep and had tried a poor excuse to cover it. There was a bruise on the man's neck, but that easily could have been self-inflicted.

It made him uneasy, though, that such odd things were happening. Maybe it was time for a full-scale security sweep, time to see what had been accumulating in the cells. There was always something—drugs, weapons, something—and it had been a while since he had shaken the place hard to see what would fall out. Yes.

Before Karnaaj got here in the morning, he would run a check.

"I thought you'd bought it," Scanner said to Maro. They stood in the shade of the cafeteria annex, along with Raze and Chameleon. Sandoz was within earshot, but far enough away to seem to be standing alone.

"I thought so myself, for a while," Maro said. "It worked, but not quite as well as I'd hoped." He explained, also telling them about Berque. They listened carefully.

"So, does that mean we go or not?" Raze asked.

"Yeah," Chameleon put in. "it sounds like Deltian roulette, with full charges."

"We still go. It makes it tougher, because I can't come to every cell to get you, but I've got some ideas about that. I can get out of my cell, and if we work it right, you'll all be in one place so I can collect you."

"How do you plan to manage that?" Sandoz said, his voice pitched just high enough to carry to them.

Maro grinned. "You are all going to get sick after lunch. So are about twenty other prisoners."

"What are you talking about?" This from Raze.

"Food poisoning," Maro replied. "Somebody cooked a bad batch of something for lunch today."

"What about Berque?" Scanner asked. "I trust him as far as I can fly naked through hyperspace."

"We don't have much choice. Somebody needs to stay with him every minute, in case he decides he'd rather make points with the warden than risk his neck with us."

"Where is he now?" Sandoz asked.

"Sick bay. I've got Fish watching him."

Raze said, "That's a lot like asking a wolf to watch a hyena."

"Fish wants out and Berque might screw it up," Maro said. "If Berque bats an eye at a guard, Fish will kill them both. And Berque knows it."

Chameleon shuddered. "Fish is crazy. I don't trust him, either.''

"We don't want too many of us getting sick at lunch," Maro said. "That's two less, since they're already there."

Silence followed. Nobody looked particularly happy about Berque and Fish, but like Maro said, there was nothing to be done about it.

"I'm glad for you," Juete said into her com. Inside, she felt cold. He would be leaving, and she would not.

"I've gotten Scanner to pinpoint your location," Maro said. "I know where you are. There's only one guard to the isolation cells."

"I appreciate it, Dain, but the risk—"

"—is one I'm willing to take. I'll come for you, Juete. Be ready."

"Dain, you don't have to—"

"Hey, it isn't up for debate. You go. Period."

In her cell, Juete smiled, despite the tears that had started to flow. He was coming for her. That meant something, even if they failed. It meant a lot.

The emetic was easy enough. It wasn't a drug likely to be abused much, and the inmate medtech also owed Scanner a favor, which made it easier still. A deal was made, barter was done, and the tech had a one-shot hall pass straight from the computer, issued courtesy of Scanner.

Maro dusted one tray of a bean salad while Sandoz distracted the server. If the man noticed, he didn't say anything. The members of the escape group all took servings of the salad, though all were careful to stir it around and not eat any of it. The drug was harmless in itself, but its consequences were not pleasant to experience.

An hour after lunch, the first prisoners began vomiting. Food poisoning was relatively rare, but it had happened enough so that the guards thought they knew what was happening. Thirty-two prisoners were admitted to the infirmary for treatment, including Raze, Scanner, Chameleon and Sandoz. Most of the sick inmates were released, but a dozen of them seemed ill enough to remain overnight. Only six of them really were.

Maro returned to his cell in the late afternoon. Three cells away, a brace of guards were tearing up a mattress, searching for contraband. A sweep. Maro's gut twisted. There was no place to hide the DM gear, and no way to get it out without being seen. They were dead.

Then he noticed that Parker was the supervising guard. A desperate plan occurred to Maro.

"Officer Parker? Could I talk to you a moment?"

The guard looked up in annoyance. "What is it, pinhead?"

"It's, uh, private."

Parker looked at the other guards, who were busy in the cell, then back at Maro.

He moved closer. "What?"

"You know that, uh,
device
that Scanner is building for you?"

Parker glanced back at the other guards. When he spoke again, it was in a lowered tone. "Yeah? What about it?"

"It's stashed in my cell. These guys find it, they'll confiscate it, won't they?"

Parker chewed on that for a second. "Yeah. Damn."

"Look, I'm not hiding anything else. Why don't you come on over and search.

That way, you can tell them you've checked it and we can keep the thing for you until we get it running right."

Parker looked at the other guards. "Yeah. Not a bad idea." Louder, he said, "I'm gonna go ahead and search a couple more. Keep on doing what you're doing."

In Maro's cell, Parker hefted the DM unit and the confounder. "This it?"

"Yes." God, he hoped the man didn't know anything about electronics…

Parker stared at it. "Kinda small, ain't it?"

Maro let out a slow breath. "Yes. Scanner knew you'd want to keep it out of sight, so he made it especially small."

Parker said, "It working enough so I can see anything yet?"

"No. Scanner says by tomorrow."

Park grinned. "Good." He shoved the two pieces back into Maro's mattress, then did a quick search of the rest of the cell. "You keep your mouth shut about this, you hear?" he told Maro.

"Yes, sir."

When the other guards came to Maro's cell, Parker waved them on. "I checked it already. It's clean." When he passed, he gave Maro a tight grin. Maro nodded slightly and held his breath until they started on the next cell. It took a long time for his stomach to calm down.

"Here's the report on the search, Warden."

Stark looked up at Lepto and the flatscreen the big guard held. "Is it in the computer?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fine. Anything interesting?"

"Some locally grown leaf in a couple of cells, a knife made from a spring, a couple of cans of geltrol with cloth fuses, ten or twelve bottles of potato brew."

"That's it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. Throw the knifer and geltrols into the holes. Find out from the dopers and drinkers where the patch and still are, then stick them in solitary, too. Use
C 
wing."

"I think that
B
wing has all the cells open—"

"I said
C
wing."

Lepto nodded impassively. "Yes, sir."

After Lepto had left. Stark punched up the search report and studied it. If anything, there was less contraband than usual. Once he'd found a working laser, built from a sheet metal cutter, and once before that a thermite bomb big enough to take out a whole cell block. This time it was almost disappointing. He had been so sure that something major would tum up, and nothing had. Ah, well. So much the better, actually; he had enough problems to deal with. His line to Maro was in the infirmary with some kind of infection, and there were still a dozen prisoners with gut-rot from the bad salad at lunch. Damn, it never rained but it poured.

And at that thought, the first distant thunder reached him, as the almost-like-clockwork afternoon electrical storm rolled toward the Cage. Stark relaxed, leaning back in his chair. Things would settle down tomorrow, after Karnaaj worked on Maro and left. He was sure he could steal some of that bastard's thunder with what Berque had learned. It would have to do, although the idea of mindwiping Maro still held some appeal.

He glanced at his desk chronometer. Time to go and visit Juete, and to hell with all this crap. Maybe he would sleep with her tonight, since Karnaaj wasn't coming until the morning. That should make her happy…

The night deepened, and Maro tried to rest, but even the relaxation techniques he had learned so well did not help; he could only lay there nervously, his heart pounding and his mouth dry, waiting for the time. There was a shift change at midnight, and he was set to go at one. Time enough for the new shift to settle down, they had figured. There was no way to know how long it would take for him to get to the infirmary. And he hadn't told them about Juete.

If they were lucky, they might have four hours of head start before the morning count, and if everything went right, four hours would put them out of reach. If Scanner managed to kill the comnet like he said he could, and if they could circumvent the locks on the warden's personal skimmer and get clear without being been, and if—
if, if, if
.

No point in worrying about it now.

He clutched the DM in sweaty hands, waiting as the time dragged slowly by.

Finally, the moment came. He was five minutes early when he started the DM, but he couldn't wait any longer. Five minutes wouldn't make any difference, and if he had to lie still for another second he would go crazy.

He had eight-seven percent power; less than the last time, and there was more than a little reason to worry that they'd run out of juice before moving eight people through enough Zonn walls to get to the skimmer. But again, there was nothing to be done for it.

Maro took a deep breath, pointed the device at the rear wall of his cell, and triggered it. The wall turned to fluid as it had before, and, pulse racing, Maro again stepped into another dimension.

Chapter Fifteen

Stark stormed out of Juete's cell in a rage.
Damn
her! How could she run so hot and cold? She was either all over him, begging him to stay, or she acted as if being with him was the most boring thing in the galaxy! Oh, she went through the moves, even seemed to enjoy it—but that was her genetic programming, no more. He could tell the difference. It was like the first few times all over again, and he
hated
it that way. Now that he had felt her fire, nothing less would satisfy him.