The Second Sphere

The locks sounded with a thwack. There was a crack; then a bit of light from the hallway drizzled the floor of the tiny cell; then bright white light bathed everything. Time started moving again. Hope and fear were present in my chest like two ends of a rope. Then the door opened. A silhouette stood near the opening, the face drowned in shadows from the hallway.

“Who is it?” I asked, my voice filled with fear.

“It’s me,” a woman said. The woman stood where she was.

“Rosie?” I asked, sounding weak and terrified, uncertain.

“It’s me,” she said. She strutted into the room and stood by the doorway. Her black hair blew in the air that blasted through the vents out in the hall. There was something supernatural about her.

Malinda sighed and bent down next to me.

“Hell, Orion,” she said before she pulled the mind order band from my head and tossed it to the side. Her hands were under my elbows, and with one thrust she had me on my feet. I wobbled for a moment. My legs felt stiff. She put her hand on my chest to steady me, and then threaded her arm through mine.

“I hope you can walk, because we don’t have a whole lot of time.” Her breath was on my neck. I felt the damp sweat on her brow as she leaned into me. My body fell to the right, my weight flush against her.

“Just give me a minute,” I said. “Give me a minute and I’ll be up on my own. Don’t worry.”

“We don’t have a minute, Orion. If we don’t move now, it might be too late.” She pulled me out of the cell, my weight pressing against her frame. It had been a while since someone carried me.

Out in the hallway, the light sparkled yellow and white. The swirl in my head remained as we began to move toward the emergency exit. The floor was quiet. Not a paper stirred. We were alone.

“Thanks,” I said to her as we maneuvered awkwardly down the hallway.

“Don’t thank me yet.” She grunted as she shifted my weight on her shoulders.

“I’ve had a hell of a day,” I said.

“So, I’ve heard,” she said.

“How long was I down there?” I asked.

“Not long,” she said. “Maybe thirty minutes. The governor’s declared martial law, closed the sector doors; handed over possession of the streets to Laslow with the condition that we finish the job. If we don’t, those doors get opened. Our people are out there without a chance in hell. And when our troops get slaughtered, which they most certainly will, it’s only a matter of time before the governor opens those doors and sends the JSF. Then everyone on this rock is completely fucked.”

As we neared the emergency exit, I saw the remnants of what must have taken place just moments before. On the ground were various bodies heaped together: arms, legs and torsos wrapped around each other in a pile of death. Their synthetic blood covered the floor, pooling as though they were one organism.

“Did you do this?” I asked.

“You think they were just going to let me come down here to get you out?” she asked.

I lifted my weight from her. Her appearance was different. It was the way she carried herself. She seemed sure of something, sure in a way that didn’t require a smart-tongue. Then, my head was clear. My pace slowed.

“We don’t have time,” she said.

I grabbed her by the arm. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to the weapons depot,” she said.

“The weapons depot? Why the hell would we go there?”

“Because we need explosives, Orion. A lot of them.”

“What? Why?”

“Because,” she said, “we need to keep them from opening that sector door. We need to keep that virus from spreading. We have to destroy the Laslow Building.”