Anthony DeCosmo - Parallels

Something caught her eye.

Nina looked out a side window painted with droplets. Overhead, a Skipper flew by and she knew where it was going and she knew who was on board.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!"

Forest pounded her fists on the steering wheel then slammed the accelerator to the floor. The car’s rear wheels chirped from the onslaught of torque and propelled her forward even faster, but not nearly as fast as the Skipper.

– Trevor moved along a tight corridor. The background sound of grinding, turning, churning machinery continued at a constant, low hum.

He passed supply closets and exit doors and fire control equipment and utility cabinets, traversing a labyrinth spider webbing through the entire building. Yet, the halls and passages, the door ways and intersections flowed like tributaries feeding a river, leading toward a central area. He felt it calling to him.

– The AATC came to an abrupt, rough halt on the landing pad atop building one-dash-one in the industrial sector. The ship had barely stopped moving when the hatch lowered open.

Director Jakob Snowe and an entourage of well-armed faithful followers hurried from the craft.

– The car came to a halt outside the building. Nina swung open the door, exited, and ran through the cathedral-like entrance, avoiding a supply truck as it drove away from the docks. Two guards watched her enter but did nothing to stop her, a superior officer.

Nina knew she needed to beat Snowe to the security control station on the upper level of the complex. From there she could track Trevor. If she could get to him before the Director, maybe she could stop this before it happened. Maybe things would be okay.

As she hurried around palates and crates and drums, she checked to ensure her twin pistols were secure in their shoulder holsters, in case things did not turn out okay at all.

– The walls of the corridor became lined with power conduits and plumbing feeding into an eclectic collection of work rooms. From the few glimpses Trevor dared, he saw workers repairing equipment, patching uniforms, and inventorying supplies.

Trevor wondered why he had never come to this building-or the industrial sector-before. On his Earth in his Empire — old Empire — he had gone out of his way to interact with the workers, the manufacturers; the people who fed the war machine. Without them there would be no bullets, no food, no uniforms, or no Eagle air ships. But here, in his new Empire, he focused purely on the fighting.

The fun stuff…the stuff I like so much…

After the assembly rooms came corridors of metal grates and catwalks, as if originally constructed to serve a temporary purpose, like scaffolding framing a building under construction. It felt to him as if the rest of the facility had grown outward from a central point, a point he neared with each step forward.

– Snowe led his hand-picked group of soldiers through a cramped hallway stepping over the frames of open bulkheads as he moved.

Workers and technicians stepped aside. Despite his diminutive stature, the Director walked with the determination of a tank, his eyes fixed in a cold-blooded stare.

– Around this corner…

Nina had followed the signs for the security control room as she climbed stairs and ladders through the building. One last turn remained but she halted at the corner when she heard a voice call, "Director Snowe!"

Nina stood still, not daring to peek around the corner with Snowe and the building's security watch commander a few feet from her position, but she could hear well enough.

"Chief, Billy, what have you got?"

"Last we saw he was moving toward the holding cells, probably making for the core. But we haven’t spotted him since. Do you want me to put the facility on alert?"

"No," Snowe instructed in a stern voice. "I want to do this quietly. The fewer people the better. Once it’s over, we can make up whatever story we choose. If we start making a lot of noise we’ll draw more attention than I want. Keep your people away from him; have them focus on guarding the exits. Don’t let him out of here. My men will take care of the rest."

"One other thing, sir. My men saw Major Forest enter the building a few minutes ago. Is she looking for Stone, too? What are your orders for her?"

Snowe snapped, "If she gets in the way, kill her. The little whore won’t have any friends left after this anyhow. Probably be doing her a favor."

She clenched her lips to stifle a gasp.

"Yes, sir. And I'll let you know as soon as we pick either of them up on cameras again. They seem to be staying away from the main areas."

Nina steadied her nerves and thought Trevor is heading toward the core.

She had failed to beat Snowe to Security Control, but might yet reach Trevor first.

– Trevor’s feet clanged and clunked as he jogged along the metal framed corridor. Tiny bulbs offered alternating patches of light and dark. The air grew warmer the closer he came to the center of the complex. Beads of sweat peppered his forehead and soaked his arms beneath the sleeves of the battle suit. He felt a sort of electricity in the air, although he could not discern if this feeling came from the actual environment or his imagination.

Voices came to his ear, a mix of harsh commands and forlorn cries but he could not make out the exact words.

Trevor's jog threatened to turn into a sprint.

Come see…

The corridor emptied onto a catwalk above a long chamber. Below him, the source of those commands and cries.

"Move it you dumb ass!"

"Get over here! Yeah, you!"

The sharp snap of a cracking whip; a howl of agony.

Trevor slowed to a walk, his eyes fixed on the scenes of brutality playing below. Human guards wielding whips and clubs to beat and motivate Chaktaw prisoners.

From what he could see, at one end of the long room entered a line of Chaktaw though a large archway. They carried boxes and packages of varying sizes. The prisoners then sorted the incoming supplies and placed them on larger palates that, no doubt, would eventually find their way to the loading docs, to the supply trucks, and to the people and soldiers of Thebes.

Trevor did not know how to react. He had slaughtered an untold number of aliens over the years and sentenced some to dissection at Red Rock. But to use them like this, to torture them under whips and hold them in chains…this did not sit well in his belly.

Perhaps this was why Nina and Snowe kept him sheltered from the supply side of the war; they feared he would not approve of slavery.

However, he understood. Humanity lacked manpower and therefore required a work force to handle this type of-no, no this is not right. I shall put a stop to this.

He resolved to have a chat with Director Snowe and Major Forest, one that involved the end of any secrets. Thebes belonged to him now, and he would know every inch of it.

Trevor observed the prisoners carrying boxes into the chamber below. They resembled a line of ants carrying the spoils of a raided picnic. He traced the line in the opposite direction, toward the point of origin and realized that the catwalk followed the same line from above.

Trevor walked in that direction, approaching a ramp that ascended toward a large opening.

– Nina emerged onto one of the walkways circling the massive center of Building One Dash One. Below her ran row upon row of arcane vents and flaps releasing steam and exhaust, descending in tiered rings toward another walkway.

The Major planned to climb down to that passageway and intercept Trevor somewhere near the slave pens. If he saw only the workers, she could explain that away. But, if he makes it to the core; if he sees…

Spurred on, Nina threw her feet over the safety railing and jumped a few feet to one of those rings of vents. Her balance wobbled for a moment. A vent near her boots sprung open, released a stream of hot exhaust, and then snapped shut again.