RAINBOW RUN (8 page)

"That's right," she replied. "I’ll leave you in this cell to think it over while I check out the other prisoners suspected of being Freedom Crusaders."

They both left.

Alone in the perpetual twilight of my cell, I chased my own thoughts around in my head, unable to find any solution to my problems. I fell asleep on the bench. I don't know how long I slept. I awoke when a tray of food was passed through a slot in the door. The rations were about the same as the food in the two gray dwells where I'd had meals. It had been a long time since I had eaten. I finished every morsel. With a full stomach, I dozed off and on, seeking the prisoner's temporary relief from hopelessness and boredom.

The sound of the explosion and the shuddering of my cell brought me out of my stupor and into a chorus of noises—alarm bells, people yelling, doors opening and closing.

I looked out the plastic window in my cell door, wondering what had happened. All I could see were two VIS guards running by with their stunners drawn.

I smelled the gas before I felt its effects. It was seeping through the food slot, a yellowish brown haze that burned my throat and lungs. I blinked back tears as the gas poured through the door and slowly rose. I backed away from the door and got down on the floor taking shallow breaths where the air was cleaner.

I felt sluggish. My arms and legs seemed too heavy to move. I couldn't think straight. I tried to take only shallow breaths but even those seared my lungs. I didn't know if the gas was lethal or merely incapacitating.

I heard the door to my cell open. I looked up and saw two grays, a man and a woman, enter.

The man asked, "Is he Errox?"

The woman, after a cursory examination of my face, said, "No. Errox is shorter and stockier with gray hair."

"Errox wasn't in any of the other cells or offices. Where can he be?" asked the man.

The woman, already turned toward the cell door and headed back to the corridor, replied, "We've got the other Crusaders. It's time to go. Maybe Errox was never here. Maybe he escaped already. Come on."

They quickly left.

My cell door remained open. I marshaled my gradually returning strength and managed to climb onto a bench. The gas had dissipated but the air still held some of its stench. I could hear people moving and shouting in the hall. I went to my open cell door and looked down the long corridor that led to an exit.

The man who had entered my cell had a prisoner over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. The woman was right behind him.

Someone shouted, "There they go out the front portal."

The hum of what must have been five or six stunners filled my ears. The man was out and gone. The woman dropped like a puppet whose strings were severed.

I heard voices I couldn't identify. "They're all gone except her."

"No, there's a dead Crusader in the control room or what's left of him; he exploded his wristlock to damage the controls, committed suicide for the Crusaders' raid."

"How many prisoners are gone?"

"At least two. Maybe more."

"Get the medic for that woman. She might not survive those simultaneous stuns."

I'd regained enough strength to move. I looked down the corridor, wondering if I could get away in the confusion. Then the thought hit me—get away to where?

The only place I knew was Mirall's and I didn't know how to get there from here.

Clandine came to my cell, stepped through the still open door, saying, "I’m surprised you’re still here, Errox. Why didn't you escape with the Crusaders? They could have cut off the custodial collar and you could be free to go where you want."

"I don't have any place to go."

"Do you think we implanted a tracer to use you as a Crusader locater?"

"I have nothing to do with the Crusaders."

"This was a suicide mission for the Crusader who used his wristlock to blow up the control room, but we captured another one. She’s dying. I want you to hear her answer questions while hooked to a vericator. Come along."

I went with Clandine down several corridors and into a large room where a woman was stretched out on a medic cot. Standing nearby was Arvon.

A thin man with a white wristlock was attaching a skull cap and several sensors to the woman. The cap and sensors were connected to a screen display.

Clandine asked me, "Are you familiar with the vericator?"

"No, I don't remember ever seeing one before." After I said that, a fragment of memory about being hooked-up to a machine—maybe a vericator, maybe something else — drifted onto the main stage of my mind and then danced away. I tried to hold onto the image, even though it seemed unpleasant, but it was vague and elusive.

Clandine described the function of the vericator. "All data is fed into the enchancers in the display and analyzed. The line that shows up on the display represents the probability that the subject believes what she is saying—the higher the line, the greater the probability. There is no guarantee of truth, just an indication of whether she believes what she says."

I watched as the thin man made some adjustments. When he was satisfied, he nodded to Arvon.

"I'm Arvon," he said, looking direct only at the prisoner. "Do you know that you are dying?"

The woman answered yes. The line on the display was near the top.

"Do you want us to attempt to save your life?"

"No, you'd just brainwipe me afterwards. I'll die a Freedom Crusader and be reborn in Freeland with the freedom lovers and all the other Crusaders who have given their lives for the cause."

I saw that she believed what she was saying. The believability line hovered at the top of the display.

"Why did the Crusaders attack this VIS center?"

"To rescue Crusaders held here."

I didn't know how honest this Crusader had been previously in her life but she was telling the truth while dying. What she believed about being reborn in a special place made me think that she had been indoctrinated with unverifiable concepts and ideas that made her a fanatic. It seemed almost as bad as brainwiping to me. It caused me to wonder if the standard VIS conditioning induced the acceptance of dubious theories and practices. I turned my attention back to the questioning of the Crusader.

"Do you know Errox?" Arvon asked, without looking in my direction.

"He was my occasional lover for several transits." That was her truth and she seemed proud of it.

"Why didn't you rescue him?"

"We couldn't find him."

Clandine went over and whispered in Arvon's ear.

He nodded.

She motioned for me to come closer to the cot.

Arvon bent down, asking, "Do you know this gray in the collar?"

The Crusader looked me in the face. She said, "I don't know his name. I saw him earlier in a cell. I'd never seen him before."

The believability line never dropped, never wavered, remaining at the top of the display.

I saw the look exchanged between Arvon and Clandine. Now they knew I wasn't Errox. I released my breath in a heartfelt sigh unaware that I had been holding my breath. Although I was still a prisoner, I felt freer now that my captors were certain that I was not the person they had been seeking. I didn't have to carry the burden of a bogus identity any longer, but I didn't know if my situation had improved much.

The VIS knew who I wasn't, but now they knew I was guilty of wearing a wristlock that belonged to another person. Maybe this might cause them to uncover my former identity, helping me to learn what had happened to me and why.

Clandine took me back to my cell. Just before she locked the door, she said, "I'll be back later to collect you for your vericator session."

After she closed and locked the door to my cell, I wondered how much later it would be. Was Clandine waiting for the death of the Crusader so the vericator would be free or was this waiting designed to break down my defenses? Maybe it was both. My lack of memory was my biggest defense but no amount of waiting seemed likely to change that.

What did I really have to defend? Clandine knew that I wasn't Errox, but I was wearing his wristlock. That meant that I was involved in the illegal transfer of one wristlock. It didn't prove I knew Errox but since I hadn't protested being identified as Errox or claimed another identity, Clandine was probably sure that I knew Errox.

I didn't want to cause trouble for anyone, but I didn't think I could fool the vericator. I would have to avoid answering some questions if they were asked. Maybe I could volunteer truthful information that would interest Clandine without betraying anyone. The focus of the VIS was on the Freedom Crusaders. I could state that I knew nothing about them except what I'd learned here at the VIS Center and that would register as truth.

Since they hadn't asked about Kahalyton or the Counter Colors, I suspected they either didn't know about them or, if they knew, didn't consider them a threat. I didn't want to give them Hushel's name as the wristlock smitty who put Errox's wristlock on my arm. Even if Clandine was clever enough to elicit Hushel's name from me, I didn't know where his dwell was or how to look for it. Ignorance was my best defense.

The only dwell I knew how to get to was Mirall's, but I didn't know how to get there from here; I didn't know how to get anywhere from here. I wasn't aware that I'd dozed off until I was awakened by the sound of my cell door opening. Clandine was standing there, looking at me in a way that made me feel slightly uneasy, as if she knew something I didn't know. I wasn't sure what it was she knew but I wished I knew that, as well as the answers to all the questions that I hadn't asked of anyone.

Clandine led me to the room where the Crusader had been questioned. There was no sign of her. Arvon and the thin man were still in the room.

"Just lie down on the cot," she ordered.

I complied.

"Hook him up," she said to the thin man, who proceeded to attach the skull cap to my head and the other sensors to my body.

When he was finished, Clandine said, "Thank you, I'll take it from here."

The thin man left but Arvon stayed.

Clandine turned toward Arvon and said, "I want to be alone with the prisoner. I can establish a better rapport that way."

Arvon's face clouded briefly with anger, then returned to his normal impassive demeanor.

"Of course."

I could tell he wasn't pleased to be told to leave and I became aware of the power that Clandine wielded. As Clandine watched Arvon leave, she asked an unexpected question, "Did you know that the wristlock you're wearing would identify you as Errox?"

"No," I replied.

I couldn't see the display but I knew I was telling the truth. Clandine seemed pleased, as if she'd gotten the answer she wanted.

"Are you a Freedom Crusader?"

"No," I answered, looking at Clandine's face to see if my answer altered her expression. It didn't.

"What do you know about the Freedom Crusaders?"

"Nothing except what I've learned here this cycle."

Clandine's mouth tightened in a disappointed look before she asked, "Do you know any Freedom Crusaders?"

"No, I never heard of them until I was brought here to the VIS Center."

I was beginning to feel comfortable with the questions. Clandine wanted information that I didn't have.

Then she asked, "What did you do with your previous wristlock?"

"I don't know?"

"What's your name?"

"Rathe."

"Rathe, was your previous wristlock gray?"

"I don't know."

Clandine looked pensive. She seemed to be mentally going over my truthful answers. She suddenly looked pleased and asked, "Are your earliest memories gone?"

"Yes," I replied.

That was the first positive reading she'd gotten from me and it was obvious that she felt she was onto something.

"Is Rathe a name that you remembered?"

"No."

"Do you remember anything from before you became a blanc?"

"No."

"Are you protecting Errox?"

I didn't know how to answer that, so I remained silent while I thought it over. Clandine appeared to be trying to interpret my silence. I wondered what showed on the display. Could the vericator show my confusion to Clandine?

"Do you know where Errox is?"

"No."

"Is Errox your friend?"

"I don't know." I knew that Errox had helped me but I couldn't be sure he was friendly toward me. He may have been planning to use me in some scheme that would benefit him. It was quite possible that Errox knew he was being searched for by the VIS and had gone to the Color Wheel for a new identity. I doubted he was perceptive enough to realize that a perfect stooge would also be waiting there. I’m sure that if he hadn’t encountered me some other poor wretch would be undergoing interrogation.

"Do you think Errox gave you his wristlock only for your benefit?"

"I don't know."

Clandine shifted away from questions about Errox by asking, "Do you know how to find a wristlock smitty?"

"No, I don't."

"Could you find your way back to the one who put Errox's wristlock on your wrist?"

"No."

Clandine said, "I thought as much. Do you know anyone besides yourself and Errox who has gotten an unauthorized wristlock?"

"No."

"Rathe, I understand your situation. You were a blanc, knowing little about the life you found yourself in. Was Errox the first person you established a personal relationship with?"

"Yes."

"I can understand how you might feel a certain loyalty toward him, maybe even a friendship, but I can tell you that Errox has no friends. He only has business associates, minions, and people he thinks he can use. He is a riplocker, ripping off corpses for their wristlocks. You heard the dying Crusader say that she and Errox were lovers for a while. We don't know if he is a Crusader or not, but we do know that he knows some Crusaders. I want to find him and learn what he knows. Can you find him?"

"I don't know."

"Can I trust you to help me look for him?"

I couldn't answer that question. I guess my confusion showed on my face because the next thing she asked was, "Can I trust you?" I answered yes, probably because I wanted a relationship of trust. I had no memory of ever having had one but I wanted one desperately. I needed an anchor to diminish the free floating anxiety that had been my almost constant companion since I awoke in that dreadful Rainbow Room.