Clone City

Ord realized that this night would provide him with his best and only chance of escape. It was the night of the banquet. He knew from previous years that the streets would be deserted because everyone would be at home glued to their screens. Watchers would also be assigned to duties at the Tower. If he could only get past the guards, he felt sure he could reach the perimeter. He had seen how close the trees were to the far wall when they brought him into the compound. But how could he slip past the guards? He decided to wait until the laser show that marked the beginning of the end of the celebrations began.

He felt certain that when it started to depict the history of Joypolis by projecting images into the night sky, the guards would go out to watch. As each picture faded, it would be punctuated by a great fanfare that would drown out every other sound. Ord knew the whole show would last twenty-four minutes. The twelfth picture marked the climax and, when it faded, guests would begin to leave the Tower. He closed his eyes and tried to picture the surrounding wall, its height and where he should try to scale it.

If a guard came, he decided it would best to play dumb. If he spoke, he might rouse suspicion and they might lock the door. The thought of that door being locked made him gaze upward and plead for luck. Better, he thought, to lull them into a sense of false security. Let them think I am some kind of vegetable.

When the guard came with his supper, Ord sat staring into the empty space in front of him. He felt his stomach sink when he became aware of another guard outside. The guard banged the tray down on the bedside table. Ord did not flinch. When the guard shouted, ‘Eat up, head case! It may be your last,’ Ord made no reply. The guard left the room, shaking his head, ‘Nuts,’ he said to the other before slamming the door shut.

Ord’s nerves were stretched to breaking point when, hearing them walking away, he crept to the door. Looking down the narrow gap between the door and its frame, he could see no bolt. He gave a great sigh of relief before turning back to eat. As he ate, he figured from the time he’d seen on the guard’s wrist watch he’d have to wait another hour before the laser show began.

An hour later, Ord began to wonder if he had made a mistake. Maybe he couldn’t hear the laser show. He began to pace up and down. He was beginning to sweat and wonder whether he should try to get out now or stick to his plan when he heard an explosion followed by a fanfare. His shoulders sank with relief. He knew that same sound would be deafening outside.

He took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from his brow and moved to the door. Putting his ear to it, he listened carefully. He could hear nothing. With bated breath, he turned the handle and opened the door a fraction. He knew it could not be seen from the outside as it opened inward. As the fanfare faded, voices from the end of the corridor became audible. At first, he could not make out what they were saying but, gradually, he caught snatches.

‘Hey guys, take a look at this!’

Ord reckoned there must be three guards on duty. Whether they were the same he had seen earlier he was not sure, though he reckoned they might be because the guard who had brought his supper was the same who had brought his dinner. He hoped they were, because they would have been on duty for double their normal shift.

‘D’you reckon one of us ought to keep an eye on airhead?’

Ord could not hear the reply. It was drowned in a fanfare of trumpets, followed by an enormous boom. He strained his ears. Hearing nothing, he took several deep breaths to control the tension that was pouring sweat out of every pore. He knelt down at the edge of the door and peeped down the corridor. He couldn’t see anyone. It looked deserted. He could see his rucksack still hanging on the chair where he’d signed the forms. He got up and with his heart beating crazily, stepped into the corridor. Looking up and down, he walked quickly toward the entrance, keeping close to the wall. If someone suddenly appeared, he knew there was nowhere he could hide.

As he drew close to the reception area, he crouched down and crept past in case someone was in the office. As he passed the chair in front of the desk, he lifted his rucksack off and noticed there was no one in the office. He stood up as he stepped behind the doors to the entrance.

The right door was open, the left, behind which he stood, closed. He pulled his rucksack on as he crouched down. He could hear the guards talking outside. He pressed himself hard against the edge of the door before leaning out to get a look. Seeing three of them standing beside a ventilator shaft off to his right, he pulled his head back. They were about five metres away gazing at the Tower with their backs to him. One was pointing at a huge mosaic of Dovan the Great, holding the Book of the Illustrious Codes. Ord waited for the next one to appear with its accompanying fanfare.

When it did, he decided it was now or never. Seeing them pointing up at it, his heart was hammering against his ribs as he stood up, slunk out and slid behind the left wall of the portico. He knew he could not be seen there. He flattened himself against the wall ready for the next move – to reach and turn the corner of the building. He waited until he heard a guard holler, ‘Whoa! Look at that!’ In the next instant, music began to blare as the picture revolved. His heart in his mouth, Ord tiptoed toward the corner of the building. Turning it, he stopped. At first, he could hear nothing but music. But as it faded, he could hear the guards. His heart was pounding. He wondered if they would go back inside. He didn’t wait to find out. He loped toward the far end of the building, ducking beneath each window he passed.

On reaching the end of the building, the light cast by the previous picture had vanished and Ord could only just make out the dark shape of the compound wall. He knew he was out of sight of the guards and that in a second or two, the fanfare that marked the beginning of the next picture would deafen any sound his attempt to scale it might make. When the fanfare burst forth, he ran full pelt toward the wall. Reaching it, he hunched down before leaping up high enough to grip the top and clamber over. He let himself hang till he could see if the ground beneath was clear. Letting go, he landed softly on artificial grass. Looking from side to side, he could see no one. He turned and began to run as close to the wall as possible. When he reached the intersection, he crouched in the shadows and scanned the three streets opposite. Seeing no one, he turned right and raced toward the perimeter.

As he ran, he could hardly believe his luck. Had he really done it? Had he really escaped? He felt as high as a kite. He reached the perimeter just as the next picture was unfolding. This time it was the twelve members of the Great Council. Their faces formed a ring that symbolized unity of purpose and afforded just enough light for Ord to see the ground at his feet. He ran stumbling across the rough no man’s land between the perimeter and the trees. His chest was heaving as he reached the cover of trees. He knew there were eight more pictures to go. Looking into the deep shadows between the trees, he smiled as he began to search for a place to rest before the last light faded.