Deep Yellow (15 page)

At this point, the
camera view switched back to the street scene.

A silent ground
transporter, the words
Security Together
emblazoned on its
side, glided into view stopping outside Nep's building. All four
doors opened at the same time and figures emerged. The security
bots were dressed in dark blue jackets, trousers, and peaked hats
with a gold badge in the middle. Their faces were like a still
image of an unsmiling male or female guard. After shutting the
doors together, they trooped into the building; the people inside
continued shopping as per their programmed routines.

Nep swung the chair
repeatedly at the steadily growing hole when he turned to see the
incoming bots. The lead bot took a tube-shaped device off his
trouser belt and levelled it at Nep, who by now held his hands up,
pleading innocence. An electrical beam charge hit him in the chest.
He went limp and fell to the floor. A second bot approached with
another device that spun fine cord around the stunned Nep's ankles.
He was unceremoniously picked up and dumped into the back
compartment of the transporter, which then glided along the roadway
and out of view.

"Thanks Nep." Flip
lowered his voice. "We didn't tell him what would happen," he
pulled a face, "but no harm was done."

"Anyone restrained by
the security bots is taken to a holding cell, to remain there for
twenty minutes before being released. Will any of the challengers
be able to afford twenty minutes of time?" Argenta said, looking at
the challengers.

"Viewers can find out
some fast facts on the buildings and streets on Inhab-47, which we
have provided on one of our accompanying streams."

Brell saw Ooma's face
drop. He hasn't got this yet. Grock, as ever, stared forward,
assessing everything. His whole life must just be one big risk
assessment. Brookko shouted out something, but, thankfully, it was
inaudible.

There was a pause for
advertising, betting updates, some message zaps sent in by home
viewers, and another juice.

Brell shifted in her
seat; she could do with a drink.

***

"We're back," Argenta
announced. "We have seen the security bots, but what happens if a
challenger doesn't find the key and exit door in time? They will be
injected with a lethal timer implant, synchronised at the start of
the challenge. If they do not press the exit room button in time,
then it is game over. Watch this."

A Cruunpatch, a large
bear-like beast, grazed and shuffled around a small grassy field. A
life signs display and timer appeared on the top right of the
screen. The count down from three minutes started, and the audience
became silent. The Cruunpatch continued to graze; insects buzzed
around, and it was quiet except for the gently throbbing background
music. Nothing much happened until two minutes to go. The beast
started moving its head from side to side, unsure whether to graze
or walk. With thirty seconds to go, the beast moved slowly, shook
its head a few times, and stamped its back foot. A few moments
after the timer reached zero, the skin by its belly became dark
orange, and then a black colour started radiating around the body.
Hair singed just before the now black skin turned to ash, then into
a fine dust that blew away with the light breeze. Two smaller
beasts appeared, as if sensing something had happened. They
wandered over to the beast's last position; there was a thin
outline on the forest floor, which started to disappear.

"That, dear audience
is what happens if our challengers don't get to the deactivation
button in time." Argenta held her serious face.

Brell was lost in
thought for a moment, seeing the likely method of her demise. At
least it didn't look painful. She noticed that Carac rubbed his
fingertips together whilst he stared at the screen.

"We hoped you enjoyed
our sessions with our challengers. Don't forget you can catch up on
snippets, zaps, and images on our beam network. After the break, we
will answer some of your questions, like where is Inhab-46?" Flip,
Argenta, and Williams gave a brief wave to the cameras, which they
held until given a signal.

"Was that okay? The
right tone, facial expression?" Argenta said.

"A-ok. Perfect."
Williams said raising his hand and joining his thumb and
forefinger.

The audio
baffle turned itself off as the guards
came onto
stage.

"Lady, I could give
you a better expression if you come to my cell tonight," Brookko
said whilst trying to grin. Argenta shuddered and recoiled.

Williams stepped
forward, but not too close to the challengers.

"Well, there you have
it, everyone." Williams said finally. "You know everything is a
risk, a gamble like roulette, but solve the clues and it will gain
one of you your freedom." Williams said.

"Might as well have
some fun before we go, eh, precious?" Brookko leered over at Brell
at this point.

"In your dreams and
holos," Brell replied. She glanced at Carac, who stared back at
her. She shook her head.

"Don't forget to read
up and surround yourself in the Inhab-47 holos. Tomorrow there are
individual interviews, an implant test, and a walk in a holo world.
Enjoy your evening."

***

Williams yawned. He
hoped that the meeting wouldn't last too long. Police Corps
Commander S’Tr-Hert and his Prison Corps associate were happy with
security arrangements and that rules were being followed.
Technician 22 went on about the Holo World intricacies, and the
Twins just sat in silence.

"How are the clues and
key locations coming on?" Ayleth asked.

Williams sat
upright.

"Nearly there. The
reason for this is that we have been working hard on the
re-enactments and the little touches like the transporters, smells,
and auto chef menus, as well as incorporating the artefacts we
brought back with us from Inhab-47. Once we have that in place, the
clues to the key locations will follow. I'm also aware that they
have to be a closely guarded secret." Williams glanced at the
Police Corps Commander, who wrinkled his brow.

"If someone found out
the key locations, the betting and integrity of the show would be
blown apart. Audiences will just turn off."

"Thank you, Soward. We
understand, but our insurance regulator wants us to obtain an
encrypted copy of the key locations in case anything happens to
you," Mayleth said.

"I understand, bear
with me, I will encrypt it for you soon."

"Thank you," Mayleth
said.

Williams watched
Technician 22; he remained impassive throughout the last
exchange.

“Well, Brookko. How are you today?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Flip.
Where’s your side kick?”

“It’s my turn to do
the interviews today.”

“Shame, such lovely
hair.”

“What are your
expectations for the forthcoming challenge?”

“Well, Mr. Flip, I’m
going to win. Simple as that. If anyone gets in my way, then,
bang.”

“The viewers and
gamblers like confidence, Brookko.”

“They certainly do,
Mr. Flip. You can bet on me, folks.” He winked at the camera.

“Now, here’s a
question. You were born into crime, I believe. Is that
correct?”

“My family was very
law-abiding.”

“But you have numerous
convictions for smuggling, as do all of your family.”

“Well, we just picked
up contraband that people left behind.”

“Like in the Customs
Corps raid?”

“Precisely. We were
just nearby at the time and got the blame for that one.”

***

"Brookko, all I want
you to do is take two men with you and go around to the back exit
in case anyone runs out. If this happens, keep hold of them until I
can get there. Listen, we want people alive, as we want their
information. Next shipments, location of other warehouses, etc. Do
not hurt anyone, do not kill anyone, and don’t ask any them any
questions. Okay?"

"Why can't I go in at
the front? Drookko's going in the front."

"I need someone
trustworthy around the back. Drookko is just acting as backup. I
need you around the back, it's very important. Okay?"

"Okay dad," Brookko
said reluctantly.

"Son, you're too
impulsive. You have energy, that's good, but sometimes it is
misplaced. We don't need to go in all lasers blasting. We take it
easy, get the stuff, and get back alive for the next job."

It was a routine raid.
The Custom Corps warehouse was in an isolated area of the
spaceport, surrounded by utility buildings. As a result of staffing
issues, it became known that building security was often lax due to
lack of personnel. The warehouses often contained shipments of
confiscated cargoes and drugs, as well as recovered stolen
goods.

Brookko stood with his
hands in his pockets and a laser rifle slung over his shoulder as
he picked two men for his important assignment. It was early dawn
and cold; the grass had a wet sheen which reflected the light from
the fading moons. They had regrouped outside the spaceport
perimeter for final instructions. His dad as always took centre
stage and directed events, with his brother Drookko assisting.
Brookko was never trusted to lead anything now, not after the
previous incident.

"Frag and Fragger, are
you ready?"

"It's Drag and Corbon,
and yes, we are ready." Drag said, giving Corbon a sideways glance,
who responded by shrugging his shoulders.

"The cams and sensors
are down, let's go," a technician said.

Brookko grasped his
rifle at the ready position and, with a wave back to his father, he
led the two men off on a circular route to the back of the large
warehouse. They trod carefully on the wet grass, checking for any
mobile patrols. The concreted rear area was just a few metres wide
and ended at the security fence, which they easily breached. There
was only one exit door.

"Okay.” Brookko looked
down at the ground, finger in one ear. “That's the signal; they are
going in. Fan out, give some space," He moved his weight from one
leg to the other and scratched at his unshaven chin as the two men
moved away from Brookko, taking up a position either side of the
exit door.

"Don't know who is
more dangerous, the Custom Corps or him," Drag said. Corbon
nodded.

“Quiet," Brookko said,
gesticulating with his rifle, his face grim and focussed on the
doorway.

Corbon winked at Drag,
who grinned in return.

There were a series of
loud bangs from within the warehouse followed by light flashes
pulsing out of the side windows. The exit door burst open; smoke
poured out, followed by two coughing Custom Corps staff in uniform.
The male held a laser pistol and the woman a small clutch bag.

Brookko rushed up and
poked them with his laser rifle as they doubled over coughing
violently. He kicked the officer's laser pistol away.

"On the ground, now,"
Brookko said shouting right into their ears. He hissed and laughed
between his teeth.

The officers both got
on the floor, face down, arms by their sides.

"Look, we know
nothing. Just take the stash inside and we won't say anything," the
male said.

"That's what you
think. Where did the shipment come from?" Brookko said.

Drag and Corbon had
stayed near the exit door, partly in case more officers came out,
but mainly to give Brookko a wide berth. He started to get
agitated, which was not a good thing.

"Where did the
shipment come from?" Brookko now shouted at the pair whilst
prodding them with his rifle. "Easy question; who wants to say
something, eh, eh?" He strutted around now, face flushed.

"Brookko, your father
said to just keep them here, that's all, no questions," Drag
said.

"Frag my father. I'm
just as capable of doing this."

"He's taken a high,
hasn't he?" Drag said. Corbon nodded.

"We'll start with the
lady here. Up you get and over here." He pulled the woman to her
feet and dragged her over to a dark area by the fence. A dull
sunlight appeared with the dawn, the rays mixing with the smoke
still billowing out of the building.

"Brookko, look, just
wait for your father. You don't want to muck up this job," Drag
said.

"Again. You were going
to say ‘again,’ weren't you?"

"No, just hold on,
calm it down a bit. There's no rush," Drag said.

"You've got a problem
with me, haven't you?"

"No, Brookko, it's
just your father said ..."

"Your father said,"
Brookko said, mimicking Drag’s accent. He pushed the woman against
the fence. "Stay there."

The woman didn't
move.

“You've always had it
in for me, haven't you?" Brookko said, levelling his rifle at Drag
who started to move backwards. Corbon looked back and forth between
the two men.

"Brookko, calm down,
calm down."

Brookko brought his
rifle down. Drag let out a breath, but it was short-lived as
Brookko fired into his foot. Drag gasped and fell down on his
backside, holding the remaining shreds of his left boot, whimpering
in pain and shock. Corbon ran to him, took off his backpack, and
started fumbling around for an auto emergency kit.

Turning around,
Brookko walked back to the female, muttering to himself.

Bangs, laser beam
p-zaps
, and shouting came from inside the warehouse; it was
taking time to subdue to the Corps.

"Well, honey, what is
a good looking woman like you doing here?"

The woman had her back
to the fence, her uniform dishevelled. Her cheeks were flushed and
streaked with smoky dirt. Still holding her clutch bag, she held
her hands in front of her.

"I asked you a
question." Brookko placed his face next to hers." I asked you a
question."