The black blobs proved to be small windows though which camera lenses peered. Electronic cameras. I tuned into their circuitry, into the feeds which led from them. The cables stretched upwards, a huge distance. I gave up on that for the moment, and tracked other connections, other circuits using the same cabling. Some led to control circuits directly above the ceiling. I looked at the ceiling more carefully, and noticed some slotted panels which must be for ventilation. The control circuits seemed to be associated with only a small number of these vents, however. It dawned on me what these were probably for; to remotely release gas into the room. No wonder I had been feeling lethargic; I must have been drugged or gassed for days.
There appeared to be two entirely different sets of circuits leading to different vents, which puzzled me for a moment. The most likely explanation to occur to me was not at all comforting; one set would be for anaesthetic gas in case they needed to knock me out again, the other would be for when I had outlived my usefulness.
Another control circuit led to the electronic door lock. I contemplated that for a while, then turned my attention to the destination of the cabling. I gritted my teeth and forced my mind to follow it, up and up, until it reached a control centre apparently linked to a radio. It dawned on me that there was no-one at all in this installation, whatever it was: I was being imprisoned by remote control.
I lay back on my pad and gave my frazzled brain a rest; it really did not like messing with electronics. I didn’t realise that I had slipped back into sleep until I was woken by a grating noise. I looked around and saw that the small hatch was rotating. As the other side of the drum came into view, it revealed an opening into the drum. Inside was a selection of fruit and nuts. I got up and retrieved them, meanwhile straining my senses to detect anything on the other side of the hatch as it rotated back into position. Nothing – still blocked. I persuaded my reluctant mind to enter the security network again, to find out how the food was being delivered. I detected a stream of radio traffic to and from something moving, apparently in the vicinity of my cell. Then my brain rebelled and I lay back with a pounding headache which I was too exhausted to dispel.
This set the pattern for the next few days. The lights stayed fully on, all of the time. Once a day, as near as I could judge with no means of telling the time, the hatch rotated with a protesting noise and more food was delivered. There was otherwise nothing to do, so every hour or so I went through a bout of vigorous exercise to try to keep fit; I was literally bouncing off the walls. I slept far more than usual, but even so there was lots of time left. In order to stop feeling sorry for myself, I concentrated on learning as much as I could about the electronic network by which this place was managed, for as long as my brain could stand it. I also had plenty of time to devote to thinking about my situation, and working out strategies for making more effective use of my abilities. In all this time, there was no communication from my captors; they seemed content just to keep me imprisoned. I concluded that for the time being they simply wanted me out of the way, unable to influence the debate which must still be raging about the saurians and their offer of help.
The headaches caused by my nervous system’s clash with electronics gradually reduced with familiarity and I found that I was learning more and more about the system. Eventually, I established as clear a picture as I could.
My cell was situated at the bottom of a deep shaft – possibly a mine, it was hard to tell. There was a lift running down the side of the shaft. Close to the top, there was some sort of control centre leading off from the shaft. From this centre, once a day, a small radio-controlled vehicle trundled, carrying my food. It entered the lift, descended to the bottom, crawled to my cell, placed the food in the hatch, then returned the way it had come.
I now knew as much as I was going to discover, and realised that I had to act or stay there and rot. I was painfully aware of the four cameras which covered every inch of my cell; and even more so of those discreet vents in the ceiling. I spent some time thinking of alternatives and testing possibilities before I was ready.
In order to prepare my jailors for the deception I planned, I took to spending long periods apparently asleep (and occasionally genuinely so), lying absolutely still on my pad. Finally, I could put off the moment of decision no longer. I ate my last meal – rather too aware that it might be exactly that – and lay down, apparently to sleep. My body was inactive, but my mind was anything but. I traced the electronic data feeds from each of the four cameras, memorised the video patterns – and locked them. For as long as my concentration held, the cameras would keep relaying the same view, of me lying motionless on my pad.
I got up and walked over to the door. Setting aside part of my mind to maintaining the video hold, I put the rest to the task of following the circuitry to the door lock. After many rehearsals, this was quick and easy. I took a deep breath and “nudged” the circuit. There was a loud click. I pushed at the door, and it slowly swung open. I was at maximum alertness for any electronic alarm messages which might be triggered, but all was quiet – across the entire spectrum. I stepped out of my cell for the first time in many days, reflecting on the irony that a simple medieval locking bar would have kept me in there indefinitely. Outside, the light was much dimmer than in the cell, but good enough to see my surroundings.
The cell was a plain box, with walls many centimetres thick. Judging by the weight of the door, they were probably lined with lead. The exterior of the cube, including the door, was covered with a metal mesh. It took a moment for my memory to pull up what it was – a Faraday cage, designed to block reception of all radiation inside the cell. My captors had done their best to seal me off from anyone – human or saurian – who might have been trying to contact me; it had obviously been effective in the other direction as well. I turned from the cell and looked around me.
I was standing at the bottom of a circular shaft. At a rough estimate, it was at least fifteen metres in diameter, and had walls of smoothly finished concrete. The lift was a small, skeletal affair running down one wall. Like the cell, it looked like a recent addition. Various tubes, presumably for ventilation and other services, led from the cell up the wall. A cable with lights dotted along it provided the illumination; it also stretched upwards. I peered up to where the lights ended, which was at a small gap in the shaft wall. The shaft itself went higher. At the top there was a square recess, offset from the centre, which was blocked by something like a huge hatch cover. It must have been at least fifty metres above where I was standing. Some rusting fragments of metal structure remained around the sides, and a spiral metal staircase ran upwards to a walkway which led to the gap in the shaft wall.
Time was pressing, so I took the steps of the spiral stair three at a time. The gap in the wall led into a short tunnel, with two sets of rusting, massive steel doors, held open. Thick square bars like jagged teeth projected from the edge of the doors. The illumination cable ran along the ceiling. A third set of open doors led into a stair lobby; beyond was a doorway into a large circular space, from which the droning of an engine could be heard. I paused to check the electronic circuits before entering; there were no security cameras or detectors here. The room was mostly empty, the most obvious objects being the electricity generator, with ventilation and exhaust tubes snaking up to the ceiling, and a small tracked vehicle, fitted with cameras and manipulating devices. It looked like one of the contraptions used by bomb disposal crews, and when I saw the fruit and nut containers stacked alongside I realised that this was my remote-controlled waiter. My captors must have chosen this method of delivering food to keep the maximum distance from me when restocking. There were some remains of racks and desking in the room, and it suddenly dawned on me where I was; in an old ballistic missile silo. This must have been the launch control centre.