Greg Krojac - The Schrödinger Enigma

The Argon did as he was bid and deactivated the force field, before meeting the same fate as the two sentries who had provided the rescuers’ uniforms. Recognising Enak and Eled, Miriam almost shrieked her excitement out loud but was stopped by Sitara’s hand covering her mouth. The two Argons reconnected their translator devices. Eled gestured that they should follow them, as Sitara whispered to Enak.

“There’s a friend of mine in the room next door. We have to take him with us.”

“We need the guard’s obmohc . His obmohc activated the force field, only his obmohc can deactivate it.”

Roberta, grateful to be back on her feet again, picked up an object that had fallen alongside the dead Argon.

“Is this what you’re looking for?”

Eled took it from her, thanking her, and deactivated the force field of room 1015. Roger Nelson was reluctant to come out at first, but when Sitara reassured him that the two Argons were on their side, he left his room. The only problem that remained now was how to escape the building. They hadn’t properly thought that out beforehand. They couldn’t bluff their way past the remaining seven Argons, as they had on their way into the building, not with the freed prisoners. Eled went into the Administrator’s room and looked out of the window. He beckoned Enak over to join him. He pointed at the swimming pool, whose water had just started to turn a light shade of green, nobody having cleaned it since the plague took hold.

“Do you remember playing Aput Ototm as a child? What do you think, Enak?”

Enak looked at the pool, then at the window, and then the pool again.

“It could work.”

Sitara joined them at the window.

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, it won’t work. There’s no way that we can jump into the pool. It’s too far away.”

The two Argons grinned at each other. Enak explained.

“We are not going to jump. Well, you are not. We will throw you into the pool. Aput Ototm means throw the child. It is a game we used to play as children, we would throw our smaller friends into a lake, Eled and I can make the jump, but we will throw you.”

Sitara looked at the pool again, not sure that she wanted to be thrown out of a window. Eled pointed out the choices.

“It is either that, or you become prisoners again. The Argons want to sell you as sex slaves.”

That made Miriam’s mind up.

“Sitara. I am NOT staying here to be someone’s sex slave. Guys, I’m ready.”

Enak opened the window and carefully removed the frame from its mountings, with as little noise as possible, leaving a large gaping hole in the wall for them to escape through. Miriam smiled at Eled.

“I’m ready.”

Eled scooped the young woman into his arms, checked the trajectory, applied a little backspin and launched Miriam into the void. The sensation was exhilarating, what she imagined a theme park ride would be like, but she managed not to scream. Sitara, Roberta, and Roger Nelson landed in the water in quick succession, followed by Enak and Eled, who had expertly placed the humans so that they wouldn’t collide with each other in the pool.

The six clambered out of the pool, dripping wet, but safe and unhurt. Enak grinned at his friend.

“The skill never abandons us.”

They ran as fast as they could towards the bridge, turning only to watch as the hotel crumbled to the ground. Roger was wide-eyed.

“What the hell did you do?”

“We left an obmohc behind and created a reverse polarity gravity charge chain reaction. Basically, we separated the molecules holding the building together.”

A few minutes later, they were reunited with the rest of the group, who were still tucked beneath the arch of the Key Bridge. After celebratory hugs and fist bumps were over, it was time to return to the main objective, taking shelter on one of the top floors of 1812 North Moore. That was as far as they had planned ahead. Nobody had any idea what they would do next. They didn’t know how they were going to defeat the Argons – everything they did now was improvisation – and all they were doing was surviving. Each day that they didn’t die was a small victory, but could they win the war that was looming? The Argon’s biological pre-emptive strike had been so effective, and was going to rid the planet of almost 98 percent of humanity. Homo sapiens was no match for Homo neanderthalensis .

The day’s objective was still to reach 1812 North Moore. They certainly couldn’t stay under the arch, and if they didn’t go to the building, what else could they do? The Argons that had died at the Marriott Hotel would be missed. Enak had explained that they were probably a scavenging party from a much larger group and that when they didn’t return, there would be more Argons sent out to find out why. And if the humans defeated this next group, then more would come. To make matters worse, the Argons warrior groups that were scattered around the planet weren’t even the main invasion force. Millions of Argons could be expected to arrive any day. Even with a very liberal estimate of 160,000,000 human plague survivors, it still wouldn’t be enough to defeat the technical and numerical might of the Argon invasion. Those survivors would also be spread across the planet, many in remote areas, and couldn’t possibly be united to defeat the Argons.

Perhaps 1812 North Moore Street wouldn’t be the end of homo sapiens’ existence on the beautiful planet that they call home, but it could well turn out to be the last stand of Jason’s small band of survivors.

After a brief and thankfully uneventful walk from the bridge to 1812 North Moore, the thirteen humans and three Argons arrived at the the building and looked up. A Marine took his helmet off and wiped his brow.

“Damn, that’s a long way up. What floor are we going to?”

Marine Geek removed his helmet.

“Three hundred and ninety feet, including the antenna spire. Thirty-five floors. I recommend we go to the thirty-third floor; The floor space reduces after that. Plus it’s two floors less to walk.”

A third Marine didn’t like the sound of that.

“You mean you want us to walk up thirty-three floors, Geeky? Fuck that. I’m taking the elevator.”

“There was a standby power generation emergency system, an engine-driven 1,250 kW, 480/277V, three phase generator with automatic controls.”

“You said was.”

“Yeah. There was. But it would have started up automatically when the main power went down. It had an eight-hour fuel supply. That will have gone now.”

Like the rest of the group, Jason was looking up to the top of the building.

“So, It’s Shanks’s pony or stay here, Marine Geek;”

“Shanks’s what?”

“Shanks’s pony. Use your legs. Walk.”

“Jeez. You Brits have some strange sayings.”

And so the long trek into the heavens began. Thirty-three floors would have been bad enough if they had been travelling light but, weighed down by rucksacks, it was an arduous climb. Jasmine was only six years old and did her best, but an ascent that was proving tough for the adults was almost impossible for her. She managed fourteen flights of stairs before she slumped to the floor, her little legs unable to take the strain for another nineteen flights. John, her father, started to carry her up the staircase along with his own heavily laden backpack, but gratefully accepted Eled’s offer of help. The Argon had saved Jasmine’s life in the massacre at L’Enfant Plaza and John knew that, much as he wanted to carry his daughter up to the thirty-third floor himself, Eled would hardly notice the additional weight.

By now, it had become second nature for Jason to take the lead and for Enak to follow the group from the rear, so the pair dropped into their positions without a second thought. Any threat was perceived to come from the rear, but they couldn’t just assume that the building was unoccupied and relax, Caution was definitely the better part of valour. It took over forty-five minutes for the whole group to reach the thirty-third floor; the climbers had varying levels of stamina and fitness, and those that found it easier than the others were forced to continually stop and wait for the slower members. But nobody was irritated by the frequent rest stops – recent experiences had fused the two groups together.