Foiled Ambitions by John M. Olsen

Author:John M. Olsen [Olsen, John M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Seventh Seal Press
Published: 2024-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

The constant background drone of mumbling and breathing had dropped as the various crew members slept in their cells farther back out of sight. But now, he pinpointed and counted them from audio cues. The captain had been carried from his cell a short time earlier after remaining unresponsive. Even with Jonathan’s grudge against the captain, he wouldn’t wish this on him—being used for medical experiments, then disposed of when he was no longer of any use. There weren’t many of the Lotar crew members left.

Jonathan stepped to the front of his cell and waved. “Sara? Are you awake?”

She stirred, then stilled again. She hadn’t sat up since being returned to her cell several hours before. She’d pestered him into stirring to save him, so now he’d return the favor.

“Sara!”

She jerked, then turned her head and gazed at him with mechanical eyes. She held her real hand out to shield them against the light. “What?”

“Making sure you don’t fade away. How are your eyes?”

“Eyes?” She blinked several times, then grumbled out a string of curses, consigning the Mabalae to die in pits of fire. “They work. Things look different.”

She didn’t have a pinplant, so she wouldn’t have an internal control mechanism.

“I can’t tell whether they’re innovating on the fly, or if they did all their research before, and they’re just now getting around to testing their designs.”

Resting a hand over her eyes, she said, “Both. Sometimes they roll improvements in and retest immediately. My guess is they—”

In a stage whisper, Jonahan said, “Quiet. Someone’s coming.”

He listened for a moment, then laughed when he recognized the sound of Jotala’s breathing. He called out in a loud voice, “The guards are gone. Come in.”

Grumbles sounded from the more distant cells, the ones he’d been unable to hear earlier. The noise died back down as the door opened and Jotala stepped in, carefully closing the door behind him and padding over to Jonathan’s cell. He growled in a pattern Jonathan knew should be words.

Jonathan stared at the ceiling in a moment of frustration, then pointed at his ear and shook his head. “No translator.”

Pointing behind his own ear with one hand, Jotala raised the other hand questioningly.

“Pinplant got reset.” If he kept his sentences simple, Jotala would get the meaning behind his words, but complex conversations were out of the question.

Sara sat up with her eyebrows wrinkled. “This is your amazing rescue team? One Zuul you can’t even communicate with? I know I can’t afford to be picky, but I expected to see… more.”

Jonathan planned his next words carefully as he pointed at the desk. “Buttons are good and bad.” He raised one finger. “Open door.” Raising a second, he said, “Shock.” With three fingers up, he said, “Sleep gas.”

His onetime bodyguard sat at the desk and examined the rows of buttons. He pointed to a row of three buttons, then to Jonathan’s cell, so Jonathan nodded. “Yes. One row per cell, mapped to positions front to back.”

Next, the Zuul pointed to one button, the one used to electrify Jonathan’s floor.

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