Deep Yellow (26 page)

She heard loud blasts
of an instrument and then a heavy clanking sound. Three men in
colourful clothing, blowing long metal tubes, strode up from where
she had entered the world. Behind them were six people, each
encased within a metal-plated protective body. Their face helmets
had small slits near the eyes. Following on, was a stout man
wearing an elaborately embroidered gold jacket, baggy shorts, and
leg stockings. He had a ginger beard, serious face, and a yellow
metal crown on his head. Accompanying him were six women wearing
long flowing dresses that had a tight bodice above the waist and
wide sleeves. Their headdresses were rounded or box shaped and
varied in colour like their dresses. The strange group turned and
went under an arch into the inner area.

Another Williams
thing, probably something to do with the history of this place. As
interesting as the sight may be, it was a distraction from finding
a key. With no sign of the others, Brell studied her map and ran
off along the sidewall towards the Constable Tower.

***

Ooma and Meren had
arrived separately just after Brell had gone off in search of the
Constable Tower. Meren had become confused in her research, and
though she wouldn't admit it, she had entered the world not long
after Brell and just stepped to one side of the main entrance.
Anyone watching carefully would have seen her face relax when Ooma
entered the world; it seemed obvious she did not want to face the
other two. His confident walk suggested that he had a good idea
about the key locations and the exit door.

***

Kellsa, frustrated at
her research attempts, defaulted to strategy number one. Follow one
of the soft ones and take the key off them by whatever means.
Waiting until fatty and the nun had entered the world, she made her
move. Pacing herself steadily in amongst the crowd, she navigated
herself towards the white tower building, which was roughly in the
middle of the tower buildings. Its central location ideal for
cover.

***

Carac strutted into
the Tower, amused at all the people around him. Having performed a
few searches on the clues, he actually had an idea where one of the
keys may be. The fighter and blue skin would be tricky; best to let
the fat one or that impossibly relaxed nun find a key and then use
a bit of persuasion. Must scope out the exit doors first.

***

Brune continued to
churn over what Scrivvens had said about gambling. After their
encounter with Carac all those years ago, he remembered Brell
talking about gut instinct, not rules and regulations. He activated
his comm implant.

"Scrivvens, can you
come to my office, please." Brune stepped across to a closet, and
put on his dress uniform jacket. He was brushing it down as
Scrivvens arrived.

"Monitor the internal
and external areas, I'm going on patrol to check the studio
areas."

“Yes, sir." Scrivvens
sat down at the displays and synched his implants with the console
so as not to miss any security warnings.

Brune realised that
perhaps a visit to the studio during the show would not be a bad
thing; keep all the Corps and security staff on their toes. Upon
entering the live area, a staff member motioned for him to remain
quiet. He nodded and stepped slowly behind the audience, trying not
to bump into anything. Argenta and Flip were standing centre stage,
giving a running commentary, whilst the screens relayed all the
live action.

Continuing further
into the rear area, he saw Williams at work in his director's room.
It was a hive of activity, screens, gesticulation, and talking
loudly. The adjacent room contained Technician 22's empire. He
could see the back of Technician 22’s grey head as he stooped over
his screens, fingers flying left and right, screens flicking from
one thing to another. Brune had never seen so many screens in one
room, more than at major security events. The live action showed
Brell standing in front of a stone-bricked entranceway eyeing up a
sign. Brune had trouble understanding what he saw on Inhab-47, what
with its basic alien equipment, buildings, technology, and
languages. There appeared to be little in the way of rules and
regulations.

Brell was working her
hands around a man dressed in plain, stained clothing with a metal
helmet on his head. He held a length of wood with a clumsy
bow-shaped contraption attached. Taking aim, he pulled on a lever,
and
thunk
it fired a bolt. The man then put the end of the
bow down under his feet and started pulling back on the fibres. At
this point, Brell put her hand inside a small bag attached to the
shooter’s belt and, judging by her smile, she must have found a
key. Despite the years in prison, her mind had not shut down. Well
done.

As he moved his eyes
off Brell, he saw Technician 22 pause, his body stiffening, and
then there was another flurry of fingers.

Brune watched the live
screens for a couple more minutes, and then thought about where he
would patrol next. Perhaps back to his security dome for a cup of
warm Danuth tea. Just as he was walking away, he glanced back at a
live screen. A group of holos, one behind the other, strode out of
the Towers main gate. Wearing long black jackets embroidered with
bright red markings and Inhab-47 letters, a belt, trousers, and a
black and red brimmed hat, they looked ridiculous. Their faces
expressionless, they were the security bots.

Brune reflected that
it was like sending in reinforcements at a security event. Did
Technician 22's flurry of activity cause the security bots to
appear? He had mixed feelings regarding the Technician. His kind
were remote and unemotional; it was difficult to tell whether they
told the truth or not. He scratched his chin. They have little
rules within the game show. It was “all about the audience” as
Williams often said during meetings. They were, after all,
convicted murderers.

***

"Brell has the first
key," Argenta said directly to the audience, who cheered and
clapped.

"Come on, Kellsa."

"Brell is looking for
the exit, could she be the first one back to the studio?" Argenta
said.

Kellsa sat on a bench facing towards the grass
area, with the White Tower behind her. There were plenty of holos
walking about or standing around in front of her. A couple of
youths walked past and, reaching forward, she ripped the black
cloaks off both of them. They were wearing black jackets with puffy
sleeves, black hosiery leg coverings, and had blond hair. Wrapping
herself in the cloaks to obscure the orange jumpsuit, she watched
the movements of the other challengers.

Her eyes played over
the environment, seeking out areas in the shadows and monitoring
crowd movements. Also, it would be wise to pick up something solid
for a weapon. Kellsa had used her bare hands before, but preferred
technology, however basic.

There were some
audience-pleasing activities for the idiots that chose to watch the
show. Colourfully clad holos with puffy three-cornered hats were
throwing small balls in the air and catching them. Two people were
fighting, one using a metal blade, the other a long spiked pole. If
the sword swingers were hard holos or the swords were real
artefacts, as Williams put it, she might be in business. There was
something going on a little further into the green grass area;
holos were collecting around a wooden block.

She folded her arms
when Ooma and Meren came into view near the grassy area; from their
body language and that they were looking around suggested that they
had not found a key. Missy Police Corps was somewhere else, and
Carac had wandered past recently, appearing too relaxed. At one
point, he slowed his pace, and though she couldn't quite see
exactly where, he definitely stared towards the dwellings in the
far corner. Then his pace quickened and he went past her, mixing in
with a long queue of people outside a large rectangular building.
Glancing at the sky, the countdown showed plenty of time for a
quick key grab and then find the exit. The doors where Carac had
just looked was worth remembering.

***

Ooma had noticed Meren
following behind. Though sure that neither of them would be capable
of harming the other, he was determined to get a key. How the next
few minutes played out would be anyone's guess.

After walking past
Traitors’ Gate he took the wrong left turn and realised that he had
gone too far, so doubled back. Meren was standing by the arched
entrance, so he just smiled at her. She waited and then followed
him again. He felt confident about the “three queens” clue, now
that there was a high wall on one side and the White Tower on the
other. He stopped as the grass area came into view over to his
left.

A group of people,
some dressed in armour, stood by a thick wooden block. Whilst a man
read aloud from a small book, a woman in a long dress stepped
forward. She knelt down on her knees without stress or fuss and
placed her neck on the block. A man wearing a black mask, standing
beside her, swung a long axe backwards, and then pulled it straight
down onto her neck. Her head rolled onto the ground. Everything was
cleared up by men and women dressed in servant clothing, Ooma
presumed. A few moments later, another woman stepped forward and
the scene was re-enacted. As shocking as it was for Ooma, a quick
glance to the sky drove him on. Near the beheading block and to one
side of the main square area there was a building with high arched
windows along its side and a set of white bricks on each
corner.

"The
Chapel Royal of St. Peter ad Vincula
," Ooma said in a loud
voice. "That's where the three queens were buried."

Meren stepped out from
behind a group of people.

"Hello," Meren
said.

"Saw you as soon as I
got in here. You are not very good at hiding much, are you?"

"Not really."

"Okay, so the queens
were buried in that religious building," Ooma said.

"Buried?" Meren said,
"a Guild of Jayzan member would seek vaporisation by the sun at
midday."

"Really? We like to
bury our people in the fields so that their spirits ensure a
bountiful harvest."

"I am denied the right
to vaporisation, due to my deeds," Meren said whilst staring at the
religious building.

"Look near the sign,"
Ooma said, re-reading the clue, moving the subject back to the
present. "There?"

A short walk led them
to a black signboard near a tree. Meren bent down and poked around
on the ground behind the sign and the tree. Ooma put his thumbs in
his belt and paced around the area. Nothing on the back of the sign
or on the tree. He gazed across the grassy area. Perhaps there is
another signpost.

"Got it," Meren said,
holding up the key. She smiled and held it towards Ooma.

He picked up the key
and felt its weight. For all of his desire to win, when he saw the
expression on her face, he could not bring himself to snatch it off
her. He dropped the key back into her palm.

"You must get to the
exit. It’s over there," he said pointing at a line of small houses.
"That's the Queen's House, the large black door, try that one first
or the blue doors next to it."

Ooma had not slept
much, but had awoken realising that today he would win. Whilst
lacking aggression, he made up for it in quick research and clue
solving. He breathed in the pleasurable smell of cut grass; it took
him back to early harvesting on his home world. His father would be
doing his daily maintenance routines with the bots checking
equipment and machines. “Bringing in the harvest”, he would
say.

Meren was talking, but
he had not been listening to her. Some security bots had arrived
and instead of continuing walking around, they formed a line and
stood still. Had she seen something else? He followed her gaze back
across the edge of the grass area; Brell was there, studying the
area intently. Her pale blue skin, black hair and orange jump suit
were unmistakable. Then Kellsa appeared.

***

Carac had stayed
inside the moving queue of people. He found he could stay in the
same position, as the holo people walked through and around him. It
was enough to take the eye off his stupid orange suit. He watched
Ooma and Meren bumbling about, but importantly, it appeared that
they had found a key. He watched with a mixture of relief and
growing confidence. Yes, the nun must have a key by the way she
looked at something in her hand and then placed it in her pocket.
Also, she had started walking in the direction of the exit door. He
ignored the line of security bots that had just appeared.

This was a gift.
Follow her, then a quick punch, get the key, saunter into the exit,
and watch these idiots fight it out from the comfort of the
studio.

He hunched down a
little as he left the queue, but stopped suddenly when Ooma's large
bulk waddled in front of him. Ooma was so intent on where he was
going that he didn't notice Carac. Where is he going? Meren had
stopped as well. Carac was confused. He nearly had this thing
sorted, but something had changed. Where was Kellsa?

He walked a few metres
out into the open to see if anything was happening. Across in the
grassy area, Kellsa appeared to be attacking Brell. Hopefully, they
would take each other out of the Challenge. Pity he didn’t get the
chance to meet Brell for one last time.

Meren was now running
over towards them. Stupid woman with concern for others, always a
weakness. He rubbed his nose. Ooma it is then. He turned around and
went after the fat one.

***

Mayleth didn't realise
that she had been squeezing her fingernails into the palm of her
hand. The drink in the other hand had gone cold, and she had a
growing feeling of dread. Carac was in danger of losing this thing.
Her thoughts passed between a happy Tinker, an unhappy Tinker or
being led away by Police Corps. She sent a quick message to
Technician 22.