Gray

I struggled to control my stride, hoping that the jerky gait and the shiver that rippled through my body would go unnoticed by the observers. When I reached the next bend in the endless passages of minus-eighth-level maze, I lowered my chin again, knowing that here was one of the best angles for CCTV to watch around. My hand flew up before I could think and stop myself. The visor of my uniform blue cap was pulled down tight. Again. I kept going, reminding myself that I had to remain inconspicuous or my plan would fail. I couldn’t let that happen. Biting the inside of my cheek, I made myself place one foot in front of the other, synchronising my free hand with the movement, the other was clutching the handle of a small kit with the standard mechanic’s tools. I didn’t press the handle hard, so that a guard who’d just passed by wouldn’t think that the whitening of my knuckles indicate an extreme degree of tension that appeares in people when something wrong is going on. The guard was behind me, and I opened my mouth slightly to exhale. My heart hammered in the chest as if I’d been running at top speed for twenty minutes, ready to collapse at any moment. I was sweating, despite it wasn’t hot. The temperature on the lower levels never rose above ten degrees. In five years I’d almost got used to it. Finally, the elevator appeared in front of me. My legs felt woozy, not listening at all, but I didn’t think, just ordered myself to keep going. Once at the elevator’s dashboard, I looked straight ahead and put my hand on the scanner. It read the palmprint, flashed green and the panel shifted aside revealing a dim cabin. I entered and turned to the next panel with a row of touch-screen numbers from one to nine and three additional symbols: zero, plus, and minus. Having finished my work on minus eighth level, I was to go up to plus sixth and begin a routine test of the backup ventilation system. Would spend a couple of hours on it, which would have been the end of my night shift, and head home on the monoblock shuttle that runs from the city to the jail and back on a strict timetable. That’s what I would do on a normal day, but today I had other plans. The maximum-security Allgate jail had ten levels above the ground and another ten below. General staff were allowed to travel through eighteen levels, excluding minus ninth and tenth. Going there required a special pass, which I didn’t have. It was there where the most dangerous criminals kept. As my right hand reached for the panel to choose a plus and then a six, my left thumb pressed an inconspicuous black button at the base of the kit handle. A muffled echo, as if an explosion had gone off somewhere deep underground, rolled along the passage I’d been walking down just seconds ago. The lights went out. In the pitch blackness, without wasting a moment, I sank to the floor and opened the kit. I took out a flashlight with rubber bands and pulled it over my forehead. The light cut through the darkness, illuminating a computer hidden inside the kit. The machine I’d built in took up the entire space, looking like a regular laptop, but this one was seven times thicker and could do much more than a standard fold-out computer. Entering password, I immediately tapped on the keys, having worked out every detail a long time ago. The lights flashed in the elevator cab, the local system came to life… ‘Hey! ’ at the opposite end of the passage appeared a guard with a flashlight, the same guy I met a minute ago. The light was blinding for a moment, but turning towards the irritant, I didn’t stop working for a second, continuing to type clear commands. There was a rumble in the passage, a step picking up the speed — the guard quickly switched to sprint, aiming to be next to me a moment later, but the elevator panel had already slid close. The cab raced downward. When the panel pulled aside again, I was at the minus ten level: the first part of the plan was successfully complete. I cut the power to the elevator, picked up the computer, jumped out into the special block, and rushed forward. There was no electricity on the level, nor was there electricity in the entire — almost entire — jail building, but that wasn’t a problem. I’d memorized the map of the minus tenth level as well as any other, so I barely needed to slow down to take the right turn. If only it weren’t for that horribly heavy piece of metal in my hands… But there was nothing left for me to do but gasp and pull the computer along. I’d need it later. Finally I found myself at the passage marked with number twelve. I froze for a moment, swallowed with excitement, pressed the kit to my chest, and apprehensively moved along. On either side of me, to the wall were attached vertical capsules that looked like steam punk iron coffins. All of them were occupied by people. As dead men should, the bodies didn’t move. Though the thing is they weren’t actually dead. Their gazes, full of hatred, rage, anger, madness, and mortal menace, were staring forward. Some had their jaws clenched, others were frozen in the cryosleep liquid, screaming in anger and clenching fists that must have been pounded from the inside till the very end, outraged by the sentence of lifelong anabiosis. The bodies, huge and powerful, stripped of their clothing for the procedure, presented an imposing sight. They were frightening in their own power, never mind these two dozen of criminals were considered the most dangerous human species in the grounds of Allgate. The flashlight beam caught another monster. A round, hairless head with small ears sticking out to the sides and thick eyebrows under which deep-set black eyes glowed with bloody murder. His mouth was still in an animal grimace, his lip torn by a deep scar dividing his chin into two unequal parts. When I found myself standing directly across him, I flinched. It seemed like any second now he was going to throw the transparent lid off with a clatter and pounce on me, easily tearing my body to shreds with his bare hands. It wasn’t that hard to imagine. The alpha was two meters tall, his shoulders as broad as fighter’s. What would I do, a pathetic omega, barely able to reach the top of his chest? It was hard for me to carry a laptop. I was so thin and puny that many people mistook me for a teenager when they met me first time, and I was almost thirty. I swallowed and walked on, turning around uncertainly and trembling with fear until I reached the end of the aisle. Another capsule appeared in front of me. The flashlight picked out number seventeen, and I felt how everything shuddered inside as the beam slowly slid down onto the man trapped in the shackles of time. This Alpha was no smaller than the ones I’d left behind. Just as huge and just as strong. His frozen face-a face with a powerful, stubbornly prominent chin, heavy brow arches, and angled cheekbones that made the outer corners of his eyes pull toward his temples-didn’t have the agony of indignation and resentment that the others had. It was as if he knew what he was in for, and saw no point in shaking the air. It was as if he preferred to lie low, waiting for his hour. And it seemed the hour had come at last. In front of me was Dieter Pryde: a thief, a crook, a smuggler, a murderer, and a rebel who had trurned against the authorities in the year two thousand one hundred and eight, for that he had been declared an enemy of the state. He was caught that same year, and at the age of twenty-seven was sentenced to anabiosis for life. The human rights activist managed to defend the right to review the case, and Dieter avoided the death penalty. The papers were filed every three years, but the judges' decision remained unchanged: Dieter remained in cryosleep. I exhaled heavily, feeling my heart pounding. My legs stiffened and I mechanically shifted to the left, the alpha’s gaze darting to follow me. There was no chance to slow down. I’d already lost a couple of precious minutes so I must hurry. Dropping to the floor, I opened my kit again, established a direct connection to the capsule system, and accelerated the last stage of the “unpacking” process: Dieter’s camera, unlike the rest of the system, didn’t stop working for a moment. The standard process of coming out of anabiosis would have taken about a couple of days, but I, having received shift assignments for a week in advance, realized that the moment had arrived and started the recovery programs well in advance. Everything had been ready for months, and I was just waiting for the next assignment to minus eight level, the closest level to the target, the level that gave enough time for sabotage and a little more time for possible failures and deviations. The capsule buzzed, draining the fluid. There was a distinctive jolt inside. Oxygen was being supplied, and the lungs were getting used to work, adjusting to the release of carbon dioxide. I had read that it was not the most pleasant procedure, and the severity of the transition from inactive to active state depended on the physical health of the subject and the amount of time spent in anabiosis. Dieter had been frozen for twenty years, and that was a while. The chamber was still working on restoring vital functions. It wasn’t long before emergency sirens blared overhead, signal sequences turned on the red lights, security cameras came on; the security unit had finally managed to unlock the systems and start program “D”: the emergency program. It was now impossible to get from one level to another. Movement within the levels was also hampered. The only exception was a special squad, which must have already arrived in the jail by now and was storming the impregnable fortress. Only they would have unrestricted access. A call to the special squad’s console came as soon as the power went out. That is, almost immediately. The delay was minimal and insignificant enough to be noticed, and that gave a few more crumbs of precious time. Oh, and the minus tenth level CCTVs were showing a recording, not what was happening here right now. A pressure release let out the excess recovery gas. The panel locks clicked, and the lid slid to the side. I couldn’t see anything; the chamber was still filled with gas. Turning off the flashlight, which only added to the smudges in front of my eyes, I stepped closer, peering into the depths. Goosebumps ran down my spine as I got close to the chamber. I exhaled, and the next moment a hand was at my throat. A huge paw clamped around my neck and yanked my body into the air with ease, barely allowing me to reach the floor with my toes. Like a hangman making a failed suicide attempt, I tried to stretch out enough to feel a foothold and stop panting, but it was all in vain. The alpha took a step forward, getting himself out of the narrow cell walls that had held him for the past decades. The gas, like heated body vapor, evaporated from the surface of his skin, and there he was, staring at me with eyes as gray as steel. As lifeless and indifferent as the metal. A little more, and I simply jerked my hand up, experiencing a flash of joy that I had managed to get the second earpiece out of the pocket of my uniform overalls without dropping it. Clenching a palm, I pulled out a hand right under the alpha’s nose. I thought I managed, but it didn’t even reach his shoulder. I opened my fingers, the gray gaze sliced away to that direction. My eyes blurred, I was ready to give up, and I didn’t notice when the earpiece disappeared from my palm. A moment later, I heard a strained ‘Dieter? Dieter? Brother, are you there? Answer me. Where are you? Did you get out?' Simple words cut into my ear through the other piece, and alpha’s grip on my throat loosened slightly. A moment more, and I tumbled downward, landing badly, my shoulder hitting the floor hard. ‘Zorm? ’ came a hoarse voice. ‘Dieter! ’ the guy shouted in a way that deafened me. I should have adjusted the volume better, but it was too late now, and it was a good thing I had time to turn on the comms, or I’d probably be dead by now. ‘Yep, this is Zorm! Your fellow, Dieter! You must be really slow right now. It’s norm after anabiosis. Pull yourself together, we’re waiting for you. Follow the omega, he’ll show you out. And come on, get a move on. The jail is standing on head and you have visitors.’ Zorm was talking about the squad. So they were already on the grounds and must have been surveying the levels. I had, of course, remembered to set up a couple of surprises by installing a program that opened different blocks of the levels where the inmates were held, but time was never to be neglected. We had to hurry if we’re going to leave alive. I stood up and took a step to the side. ‘Come on,’ I said, looking up at the alpha from below and feeling the surge in my veins. After a few endless moments, he nodded. I turned around, picked up my comp and moved down the aisle in the opposite direction. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw that the alpha was following. He was struggling with his own limbs. The muscles, trained by weak electrical discharges over the last ten hours, should have obeyed, some lethargy and considerable effort should be attributed to the recovery of nerve endings and the central nervous system as a whole. Soon the effects after anabiosis should have faded away. I just hoped it wouldn’t stop us from getting the hell out of here. I was heading for the opposite direction of the elevator. Escaping by surface, going up to the plus levels and fleeing by ground or air was impossible. Aside from the security systems I could work with, there must be an inferno of a regular staff and summoned special services deployed there right now, not to mention the fact that a word of what had happened already spread to all of Greystadt’s military stations. Everyone was on alert, so we wouldn’t get far. The sign I wanted was up ahead ‘Waterworks’. ‘This way! ’ We rushed to the door, the comp was open as soon as we were near it. I had made sure in advance that my biometrics were on the list of admittance to the room, and now simply turned on the local power, making the system come to life. ‘Done!' The scanner read my palmprint, a green bar flashed. Inside, a small but fairly spacious room crisscrossed with thick drainpipes and arches, I immediately picked out the right hub with my gaze. I ran up the lattice stairs, opening my kit as I went, to see if our ‘transportation’ was here, and to start the hub’s system in the right mode. The capsule was here, right behind the metal hatch on the wall to the left, the beacon inside gave a clear signal. Greystadt received water from a reservoir a dozen kilometers from the jail, right underneath where the main water ran. Allgate owned a separate compartment, an offshoot of the area’s water supply that connected to the main system. It is from here that we’ll run to the city, where Dieter’s guys are already waiting for us. They had reached the point the day before and sent the capsule against the current set by the pumps of the city’s water reserve. The capsule, equipped with a program that controlled the route to get into the right fork of the pipe maze, a suitable propeller capable to provide necessary resistance, and enough fuel, had already covered the distance and was now resting against the hatch on the back side. There was more than enough fuel; the mark showed thirty-six percent. If it had burnt before we completed the plan, the capsule would have been simply carried back by the artificially created current. ‘Look,’ I turned to Dieter, and the alpha stared back warily, his gaze more conscious. ‘I’m going to open that hatch over there, and the room will start filling with water. A capsule will be brought in here. It’s got a couple of oxygen tanks and masks. You and me. Put them on, attach the masks and wait. The room is isolated in case of leaks, when the water reaches the ceiling, the pressure equalizes, a vortex will form here and we’ll be swept into the city sewage system. Your men will be waiting there. ‘How much time do we have? ’ ‘This whole place will fill with water in about 20 seconds. So we don’t have much.’ The alpha nodded; time was indeed short. He could only hope that everything would work out as planned. ‘I’ll pack up the computer and let’s go.’ ‘Leave it.’ ‘Loads of data,’ I answered, already pulling the machine into a dense canvas bag hidden in the base of the kit. The case was actually airtight, but I was used to being over-insured. ‘You, ready? Then I’ll do it.’ I said, walking over to the airlock and hitting the big flat button. The massive panel went sideways, and water poured onto the floor in a heavy stream. My cloth sneakers were soaked and my feet were icy a moment later. Before I had time to think about the rest, a gray capsule came into the room. ‘Here it is! ’ I shouted, but Dieter saw it at the same time as me and had already dived in. The water was up to my thighs now. Alpha struggled briefly with the light piece of plastic, tossed from side to side by the sharp, chaotic currents, and managed to get through just as I was close by. My feet were off the floor; the water had taken away my footing, and at that moment Dieter opened the capsule shell. Inside was a single tank and a mask. ‘Zorm? ’ I gawked. ‘Sorry, kid.’ said a voice in my earpiece. Dieter and I looked at each other. It was clear. Only one of us had to go. And that, clearly, was Dieter. I wouldn’t even make it out of the room in time; the ceiling was a meter and a half away, and I’d locked the entrance panel as soon as we were inside. I’d be sucked into the tube and I’d be a dead man. Zorm couldn’t have been unaware of that; we had discussed the plan hundreds of times. Dieter didn’t understand everything what happened, but he got it right. Without a word, he took out his mask and tank, hooked the straps over his shoulders, snatched the computer from me and, without waiting for the vortex to form, dived in. The water nearly flooded the room. It was the end.