Deep Yellow (19 page)

"Brune S’Tr-Hert. What
are you doing here?

"I am in charge of
Police Corps security; you know, the convicts and the studios. The
cameras are off at this moment, just to let you know," he said
whilst lowering his bulk into a small chair, its legs protesting.
Brell sat on her bed.

"What can I say? A lot
has happened since we were last working together. What's happened
to you since Grab?" she said, trying to change the subject away
from herself.

"After you left, I
stayed on until finishing my probation, got a posting to Agger, and
then promotion. I became involved in a big smuggling investigation
with Space Corps, not involving Brookko before you ask. It was all
good fortune and saw me right for further promotion. I worked here
and there, steadily moving up the ranks, and now I'm a Commander.
Plus, I have a couple of little Brunes running around at home."

"Well, good for you,"
Brell said.

"So it was interesting
to see both Carac and yourself together again, but unfortunate
circumstances, though." That was his way of trying to breeze over
Brell's downfall, probably. Bermians did not approve of rule
breaking.

"Look Brune, it is a
surprise to see you. But I don't know what to say. When we last
worked together, I was in charge of you, and now I'm in a cell.
This could be my last night here."

"I'm not here to gloat
or discuss rule breaking. I wasn't sure myself whether to visit
you, but I wanted to wish you the best of luck. I know you have had
your problems, but the Brell I remember would have made sure she
was organised and got on with it."

Brell averted her
eyes.

"I'll be watching the
whole thing, but I'm not involved in any of the studio business.
I'm just making sure that you convicts don't try and take the place
over or run away."

"Very funny." Brell
laughed.

"Okay. Well, Brell, I
wish you good fortune." He stood up.

"Brune. It’s good to
see you. Good fortune."

After he left, Brell
sat back on her bed. Brune, that big old oaf, fancy him getting
promotion to Commander.

***

Mayleth was concerned.
The Tinker had been in touch, wanting reassurance that everything
would run according to plan. The show, so far, was going well. The
challengers were shaping up as a very watchable group of people.
Williams was doing a great job, but he avoided her and her brother.
He had told them where the keys were for the first challenge, but
not the others. Apparently, he was “working his butt off” and
“busting his hump” whatever that meant, to finish the clues in
time. It was not what they wanted to hear. She glanced around;
Ayleth was asleep again.

***

Ooma thought often
about the long, wide, sweeping fields of home and the feeling he
had when piloting his silent harvester across the landscape. Back
then, he would yearn for something more exciting; now, he would be
happy to bring in the harvest for the rest of his life.

Just before leaving
Crin, he had sent a fuel-efficient prototype engine design to his
father. Engine design, apart from being a distraction from prison
life, was a way of paying back for his shame. The brief high life
in the city had been fun, but he never stopped regretting his
actions.

***

Technician 22 stood in
his low-lit office reading the latest encrypted message from the
Tinker. He knew his role and did not need reminding. Another
encrypted internal data zap arrived on his screen from the
twins.

All ready for
tomorrow
?

He replied,
Yes
. then sent an additional message,
No problem, all
will be fine
. He added the second message to reassure them.
Amongst his people, you only said things once and it was
understood.

Okay thank you,
came back the reply.

That must have been
Mayleth, the female one. The male one was inept. For all their act
of confidence, they were unsure of him, which he thought was not a
bad thing. Kept them on their guard.

After the female twin
had told him the location of the keys for tomorrow's challenge, he
had easily worked out from the “tube transporter” layout where the
exit doors would be. If the “special” challenger appeared in danger
of losing, then he would create a clue message and display it
secretively. Perhaps he might just send the security bots in.

The audience must
not find out
.

He actually agreed
with the Twins on that one; they only needed to have said it once,
though. Whatever the Tinker had on them was of no interest to him.
As long as the right convict won and the Tinker paid up, that was
all that mattered.

"Technician 22. Everything ready your end?"
Williams said, whilst observing him working in the Tech hub next
door. Technician 22 continued to stare at his screens, and then
stood upright a little.

"Yes, ready," he
eventually replied.

"Thank you. Okay
everyone. Let's do it. Roll music and count in Flip." Williams
said. He adjusted his seat a little. He had felt the mood change in
staff as the challenge approached. The fun challenge had been an
easy run through, but this one was real. Staff had become “fond” of
the challengers personalities.

Flip and Argenta stood
centre stage and looked across the audience whilst music blared
out. Standing more stiffly than normal, they both held fixed smiles
whilst their sparkly suits glittered in the stage lights.

"Welcome, everyone, to
the first Challenge." Large round of applause and cheering.

"Come on, Kellsa."

"You've seen the
Inhab-47 beam casts, the challengers, and the holo world itself.
Now for the real thing."

"Seven challengers,
five exit keys, and one clue. Who will be the winners and who the
losers? Who out of our seven will not return?” Flip said, letting
his voice trail off at the end. He allowed the silence to settle on
the audience whilst glancing up at the screens displaying the seven
challengers in their cells. They were sitting, standing, or pacing
around.

Argenta stepped
forward. “The first challenge is set in holo world Rome. A place of
ancient history on Inhab-47. Many of the buildings survive today,
despite all their wars. Remember, you can visit our special holo
world beam streams at any time."

"First, let's set the
challengers’ timers. Doc bots away you go. Audience and people at
home, are you ready?" Argenta motioned her hands towards the
audience.

"Countdown to
termination." Everyone shouted. A side screen filled with home
viewers all shouting at their screens.

The doc bots, lined up
outside each cell, sprang into action, rolling forward to
initialise each convict's timer implant.

Flip held both arms up
and said, "It's showtime." The audience started to applaud lightly,
then started cheering loudly as the floor manager gesticulated at
them. The screens around the stage came to life.

"Let
the countdown begin!" There was a loud
bong
sound and the large studio clock
started. It was synched with the implant timer, showing 60
minutes.

"Ready? Here is the clue.
From a
prison for execution to an arena of execution. The cross Emperor
sat here. Train, anyone?
" Flip repeated
it.

"So, think about the
clue. People back home and audience members can also research the
clue. Your data zaps will be displayed on the screens here, once
the prisoners have gone inside." Argenta said.

The stage screens
showed most of the challengers studiously examining their holo
screens. They all wore standard issue Association prison uniform, a
grey jumpsuit.

"Let's see what they
are up to."

There was a close-up
of information searches being undertaken. Ooma examined still
images of execution arenas, whilst Carac studied “cross emperors”
and read a list of items for sale. Brookko wandered around his
cell, swearing. Grock stared at his screens without blinking, his
fingers slowly working the holo info links. His feed showed that he
had found references to an emperor and executions in a variety of
places, many of them in Rome. He studied the clue again.

***

"Our first challenger
had gone inside," Flip said staring at the side screen. “It is
Brookko. He is obviously relying on his instincts, having done no
research whatsoever.”

"Flip, we are getting
lots of data zaps about the location of keys. Betting is changing
constantly, with the main credits on Grock, then Kellsa, with our
favourite nun Meren at the bottom," Argenta said.

As soon as Brookko
emerged into the warmth of the holo world, he forgot about finding
keys and looked around for two things: women and intox. He found
the intox first at a cafe with an auto chef, near the main road.
Remembering, somehow, the Inhab-47 word “beer”, he downed three
glasses in quick succession. Then he made a few attempts to grab
women, but kept falling through their holo outlines. Eventually he
found a hard beamed woman with a solid body. He tried talking to
her first.

"Hi, baby, want some
fun?"

"Buona giornata," she said. Completely
unintelligible as far as he was concerned, but it made no
difference.

"Love those
aliens."

He pulled her towards
him and attempted to kiss her whilst placing his hands on her arms.
Ignoring the other people walking nearby, he pushed the woman
backwards, upsetting her balance and put her on the ground.

"Baby, you won't
forget this."

"Buona giornata."

As Brookko knelt down,
some security bots arrived. Six bots in three ranks of two appeared
from the rear of the cafe. Dressed for combat, they wore
knee-length tunics and armour plates around their shoulders and
midriff. Light metal helmets with earflaps were perched on their
heads and open sandals on their feet. The leader had a tall,
crescent-shaped plume atop his helmet. Within moments, Brookko was
stunned, netted, and pulled back behind the cafe. The hard holo
female got to her feet and moved her head from side to side. She
continued on her programmed journey, oblivious to what had taken
place.

"Buona giornata."

***

Brell examined, for
the second time, the picture of a man standing in what looked like
an arena area with a person probably dead on the floor next to
them. The armoured man held up a sword in the air in triumph. It
was a place called the Colosseum in Rome. Emperor; a man sitting in
a prominent seat. He had a white sheet wrapped around his body and
some leaves on top of his head. It would make sense that a leader
would oversee large arena events; it was similar to the Hablar
Games. Having spent too long watching Brookko’s activities on the
live feed screen, she went back to reading some information about
crosses, her shoulders becoming tense. Glancing up she saw Ooma
standing in the Living Room, opening the door to the holo world.
Time to get a move on.

Standing up, she drank
some water, and motioned with her hand towards the door. Somewhere,
an invisible guard pressed a button and the door beam disengaged.
If nothing else, it felt good to be without wrist or neck cuffs
and, to a certain extent, free.

Hearing a cell door
beam disengaging behind her, she quickened her pace along the
corridor, as she did not want to take the lift with another
challenger. Peering around the lift doors, the Living Room was
empty; she went straight ahead and entered Rome.

The door shut behind
her and it was silent, dark, and musty. She was inside a circular
basement of some sort, with exposed brickwork and a smallish round
hole in the ceiling. A stone table was set into a wall. It was a
not a joyful-looking place. Striding up the stone stairs, she heard
the door swinging open down below. Keep going, stay out of the way
of the others.

The outside felt warm,
the air was fresh, and she shielded her eyes for a moment against
the glare of the bright sky. Walking quickly, she made her way to
some nearby pillars and turned to see who was behind her. Carac.
She hid behind a pillar and looked around to get her bearings. The
map and still images had showed the arena as being very large in
comparison to the old buildings nearby. Some people walked past
her, examining maps.

Her knees suddenly
gave way and something squeezed her shoulders hard.

"Hello. We meet
again," Carac said.

She was spun around,
momentarily becoming unsteady. He smiled at her as if examining a
museum piece, his white hair slicked back.

"Frag off, Carac."

"Well, well, bluey is
upset," Carac said. He sniffed the air whilst keeping hold of her
shoulders.

"Would love to stay
longer having this chat, but I need to know where those stupid keys
are so I can get out of here. Where are they?"

Brell's thoughts were
settling now, but she was revolted by his touch, let alone his
breath. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kellsa, who glanced
over, smiled, and ran off.

"Carac, I know where
the keys are. Do you want a hint?" She said whilst transferring her
weight onto her left leg.

"We can get the keys
together, how about that? It will be ..."

Carac didn't finish
his sentence; Brell had kneed him hard in the groin. He bent over,
clutching his crotch.

"There's a hint for
you. Leave me alone."

She ran off to put
some distance between herself and Carac.

***

"We have about thirty
five minutes left and all the challengers are in the holo world,”
Flip announced.

“Ooma has just arrived
at the entrance to the arena, closely followed by Kellsa and Carac.
Meren is trying to follow Carac and Brell appears lost. Grock seems
to be searching in a different place from the others, and Brookko
will be out of gaol soon."