The Freedom Army by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb [Tubb, E. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780575107243
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2013-12-30T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Escape

PAIN flooded him, the pain of neglected wounds, sore muscles and the bitterest pain of all, that of defeat. Lanson groaned, and opened his eyes. He felt stiff and sore, and beneath him he could feel the chill of metal. Painfully he climbed to his feet.

A man grinned at him, a wizened little runt of a man, with thin white hair and a seamed monkey-like face. He smiled and nodded, then ran forward to support Lanson as he staggered towards a bare wooden bunk.

“Take it easy, there’s plenty of time.”

“Where is this?” croaked Lanson. “What am I doing here?”

“This is the annex to the main power rooms of Zytlen.” The little old man peered at the tall adventurer. “Wait a minute. I’ll get you some water.” He stepped across to the bars of the cage and rattled them, yelling at the top of his cracked voice.

“Help! Quick! Help I say!”

A guard came running, then cursed as he saw the old man. “Quiet down, Pop. Want me to come in there?”

“Get me some water will you?” The old man gestured towards Lanson. “If you want him to die on you, just forget that I asked, but the toads won’t like that, will they?”

“You snivelling rat!” The guard glared his anger. “Keep a respectful tongue in your head, or I’ll come in there and tear it out.” He looked at Lanson. “Is he bad?”

“Dying.”

“You’ve had your ration for today,” grumbled the guard.

“Then let him die.” The old man shrugged. “It will be you that has to do the explaining, not me.”

“Wait,” snapped the guard. He left and returned with a bucket of stale water. “Here, but if you yell just once more tonight, I’ll beat you to a pulp.”

Unlocking a hatch in the barred wall of the cage, he passed through the bucket, relocking the hatch after the old man had taken it. Gently the old man supported Lanson’s head as he drank, the water spilling from the bucket and running down his chin.

“Thanks.” Lanson poured the rest of the water over his head, wincing at its sting on his open wound. He looked al the old man. “Tell me about it.”

“About what?”

“This.” He gestured towards the iron bars of the cage, the dim lights glowing in the clear area surrounding them. “Where are we?”

“I told you.” The old man grinned, then stuck out his dirty paw. “My name is Pop, just Pop. What’s yours?”

“Lanson.” He touched his head and winced. “I had a little trouble, and I remember some fat obscenity telling someone that I had to work for ten years in some main power room. I must have blacked out after that.”

“They probably drugged you,” explained Pop. “I’ll bet you can’t remember the journey here.”

Lanson thought for a while, then shook his head. “No.”

“Neither can anyone else. It makes escape harder when you don’t even know where you are.” The old man stared at the tall strong figure beside him on the bunk. “You look pretty fit, Lanson, but you’ll never last ten years, no one ever does.

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