In answer to the unspoken question that flickered in the tech's panicked eyes, she said, with more than a trace of pride, "I'm a witch. Normally, I'd need to touch the earth or a tree to cast a spell, but this mountain radiates lots and lots of power; enough to cast a simple spell. My Gramma taught me how to get rid of poisons when I was little, and I pretended those pills affected me worse than they did until my head was clear, and I could cast the spell on myself."
"More bloody magic," Deeks muttered, shaking his head. Aloud, he said "All right, then; you've got me covered, but you can't get out of here, anyway. The whole corridor's blocked with composite armour plate. So what do we do, just stand here watching each other?"
"You keep your peeping eyes to yourself," Drex snapped. "You can watch the wall for all I care, but don't look at me. Grimm will come for me and make you wish you were dead, like I do, so you'd better let me go."
Deeks smiled indulgently. He doubted that even one of these Questors would be able to get through the formidable barriers he had put around the corridor. A plan began to foment inside his head.
"You like this mage a lot, don't you?" he said.
"No," Drexelica said with a sniff and a toss of her head, although the Tech knew she was lying. "But you'd better let me out right now, or there'll be trouble."
Deeks put on an expression of resignation. "Very well, girl, you win. I'll just go and enter the codes. It may take a little time, so be patient."
He stepped to the console and began to tap. He smiled to himself, knowing this simple pauper girl could have no idea whatsoever what he was doing-which was anything but lifting the security barriers. He knew that, of a total of three hundred and fifty people at Haven, seventy-eight had been subjected to Phase Three Pacification, with implants that could be used to control their actions and motivations; this included fifty security guards with lethal weapons. Once he had control of them, he had control of Haven, and he would achieve all his aims.
Armitage would be arrested, awaiting an entertaining trial with Deeks as judge and jury. As for the mages, he sincerely doubted that even they would be able to fight off an army of seventy-eight armed, single-minded, dedicated human automata. If the girl really cared about this young Questor, she might be persuaded to co-operate with the tech's desires just to save Grimm's life. That would be far more entertaining than ravishing a limp, unresponsive mass of flesh. He fought to keep the unpleasant smile from his face as he battled with the security protocols. Just a few more minutes, and he should be in. Then he'd have his fun, one way or another.
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Chapter 13: Closing In
"What's he playing at?" Armitage muttered to himself. Absorbed by his electronic battle against this unseen insurgent, he seemed to have all but forgotten his former terror, frowning at the glowing screen before him.
"What is happening, Armitage?" Xylox asked, standing at his shoulder but understanding nothing of the cybernetic struggle that was under way.
"He's trying to get hold into the main control system," the Administrator replied, perhaps simplifying the technical jargon for the benefit of the technologically ignorant magic-user. "Nothing I do seems to work. I keep getting 'ACCESS DENIED' messages; I think he's disabled my system operator status."
"Perhaps this is just one of your freed slaves, taking his righteous revenge upon you," Xylox suggested, a sneer on his lips. "It would seem that our compact is at an end."
"You ignorant savage!" the irate Administrator exploded, his face a mask of contempt. "Whoever he is, he doesn't need access to the master security protocols to disable my access. This is a hardware interface assault; he's trying to get unrestricted control of every door, alarm, terminal and online system in the complex, you fool!"
"Watch your mouth, scum!" Crest snapped, toying with a wicked-looking dagger in a threatening manner.
Xylox was not one to ignore an overt insult, and he raised a hand to blast the white-coated dictator into oblivion, but something in Armitage's tone warned him that he needed to keep the arch-Technologist alive for at least a little longer. He began to sweat: the air was becoming a little stuffy, despite the gaping hole where the Control Room door had once been. Something unusual and disturbing was afoot here, he realised, and he lowered his hand, dispersing his magical energies within his body.
"So you begin to see the problem!" the Administrator said. "Terrence closed off all the ventilation baffles in this area when he… when you were trapped between the security barriers. We're at the hub of the complex, and it looks like all the barriers around this area are closed as well. We'll run out of air within a couple of hours, and I doubt that even all your mighty magic will help you when that happens, unless it includes the ability to manufacture oxygen. You need me, mage."
Xylox felt unaccustomed, cold fingers of helplessness tickling his spine. He yearned to be back in the world he knew, battling demons and spirits, destroying stone walls… anything that did not involve this cursed, ancient art of Technology. His frustration boiled over into furious anger.
"It seems to me that this marvellous system, of which you are so proud, is nothing more than a flimsy house of cards, vulnerable to the least breeze that should come its way!" he snarled. "You think that Technology holds all the answers to life's problems, and would foist it, willy-nilly, upon all. You think you control your destiny, but you can only do so by holding human beings in foul bondage. You despise me for my ignorance of your evil art, but I revile you for your arrogance and your callous disregard for life and liberty!"
"Be patient, Questor," Armitage pleaded, all defiance gone from his voice. It was evident that he now realised just how tenuous was his position. "I've still got a few tricks left that this moron can't even begin to guess at. We're not finished yet."
****
Grimm balled his fists in sheer frustration. He could be no more than fifty feet from where Drex was being held, but it seemed as if he might just as well be a hundred miles away from her. He pounded his staff on the wall, in a subconscious attempt to stimulate his intellect, and the ringing sound it made struck him; this was not the dull clang he associated with the walls of the armour-plated cell in which he and Xylox had been imprisoned.
Of course!
His mind's eye called up the battered, warped walls of the test laboratory in which he and Xylox had been forced to fight. The thick, unyielding armour plating of the security barriers would never have crumpled in this manner.
Of course! The shield descends as a four-walled unit. Without the armour in place, the walls must all be like these, and not all the corridors are armoured. If there's a route I can take through flimsy inner walls like these, things would be so much easier!
"Tattler, Emerson;" he said to the guards at his side, "is there a way I can reach this laboratory through the thinner walls, bypassing the armoured barriers? I am strong but not omnipotent. I cannot breach many more of those sheets of armour."
Neither of the men-at-arms seemed to be possessed of a dazzling intellect, and their brows furrowed in thought.
"Well, mage," Tattler said, in halting tones, "I guess you could get through the wall here easily enough, and through some of the other rooms, but corridor seven's lined with a whole series of the security barriers. You'll still have at least two more to get through-four walls, that is-but it'd be easier, I guess."
Grimm rubbed his temple. He felt unsure even of his ability to breach even two more of the obdurate walls.