Betrothed Episode One (10 page)

It was
like some kind of dream playing in my mind, and all I had to do was
follow in its footsteps.

So I
did.

Before I
made it out of the door, however, I saw myself lean down and pluck
something from the device.

I had no
idea what it was, but I pocketed it in my simple white tunic, then
I walked out.

Fortunately there were no security guards out in the
corridor, and there was no one to stop me as I turned around and
keyed something into a panel by the wall. With a whisper quiet
hiss, the door closed and then disappeared into the
wall.

I took
several staggered steps back, my eyes opened wide as I surveyed the
corridor.

I was
free.

After a
week of being trapped in that cell, I was free.

Though
not completely.

I still
had to break out of this building, wherever it was.

I pushed
off down the corridor, my breath a hard lump in my chest and my
heart beating like a drum.

Though I
was terrified, that didn't stop me from running down the corridor,
pausing at a junction, then picking a left turn and rushing off
again.

My
terror didn't stop me, because something else was in
control.

The
compulsion.

Though I
couldn't really say it was in control; I could stop myself and
ignore it at any moment. But it was still there. A vision playing
in my mind over and over again like a set of instructions for me to
follow.

It was
crazy. Insane.

And yet
it helped me select the right corridors. As I ran along, though I
could hear other people in the building, they never came my
way.

I never
encountered security checkpoints either.

Soon I
found myself in front of a great big door with several panels
beside it.

It
looked secure, like the kind of door you had to keep out an enemy
or the cold vacuum of space.

I
hesitated for a brief moment, the pain behind my left eye becoming
excruciating.

It was
like an explosion going off in my brain.

I had to
dig my teeth hard into my lips not to scream.

Seconds
later I saw myself reaching out and typing something hurriedly into
the panel.

With a
jolt, I moved forward and followed my vision. I could barely
control my fingers, and they twitched and shivered as if I was
trying to hold a live wire.

Nerves
pumped through me, and yet after several seconds of manipulating
that panel, the door opened.

With a
shuddering gasp, I stepped back and saw what was
outside.

I wasn't
high up in the sky on some kind of tower like the view from my
so-called window had shown.

Instead
I was underground.

Way
underground.

A
basement city stretched out before me.

It had a massive hollowed ceiling, and many, many levels all
carved out of the rock and
braced
with
metal.

The
level I was on was quite high up, and it offered a stunning vantage
as I stared down at the rest of that dark city.

I'd seen
a lot of things in this universe since waking up, all of them
amazing. But this, this was in another league.

I felt
like I'd been taken out of reality and put into some kind of a
science fiction novel.

After
several seconds of standing there and staring, I walked forward. It
was the compulsion, the compulsion telling me to run.

My heartbeat increased three fold, my arms and hands actually
shaking from it, and I pushed myself out of the door.

There
was a metal gangway beyond it, one that looped around and connected
to other gangways and bridges that formed an interconnected pathway
through this underground maze.

Though
there were lights, nothing seemed to push the gloom back. Because
it was more of a feeling. This oppressive sense you got when you
were underground, and no amount of artificial lighting would change
that.

As I ran
along the gangway, my bare feet struck the metal, the indents and
grooves transferring onto my soft flesh.

The
tunic I was in was overly large and bunched around me as I sprinted
forward, my loose hair trailing over one shoulder as I turned
sharply to check on the doorway.

No one
streamed out to run after me.

They
clearly didn't know I'd escaped.

But had
I escaped? Sure, I wasn’t in that building anymore, but I was still
underground.

I had no
idea where I was, but I realized it was probably the basement level
Mark had tried to lead me to a week ago.

I jerked
my head around and concentrated on running.

Soon
enough I could see people. They were walking along the gangways,
entering doorways and buildings, their expressions locked with
concentration.

As soon
as I saw them, I slowed down. I tried to look like I belonged
here.

Which
was hard.

I
clearly didn't fit in. A small human woman in a large white
hospital tunic with crumpled hair and terrified
expression.

Fortunately everyone I passed was too busy with their own
business to pay me much attention.

I
hunched my shoulders in, locked my hands on my arms, tucked my head
down, and tried to hide behind my hair.

And I
hurried.

Somehow I knew which direction to head. Though the pain
behind my left eye was subsiding, it wasn’t gone completely, and
neither was my vision.

It stayed with me, guiding me until finally I reached an
enormous set of stairs. Beyond them I could see the flickering glow
of sunshine.

I
couldn’t control myself. I threw myself at the stairs, my bare feet
padding against them.

Everyone
I passed jerked their heads around to stare at me, but I didn’t
care anymore.

I was
almost free.

I was
almost free.

Though
the stairs were long, I ran all the way up until finally I reached
the surface.

I
recognized the planet, recognized the architecture of the distinct
skyline, but I didn’t recognize where I was.

These
weren't the stairs Mark had tried to lead me down a week
ago.

I was
somewhere else in the city.

Somewhere that looked, frankly, dangerous.

Though
the sun was high, with one look at it I realized soon it would be
dusk.

Considering dusk lasted for all of two minutes, after that,
it would rapidly become night.

I drove
my teeth hard into my bottom lip and tried to think.

Now my vision was no longer pushing me forward, my fear could
return. And it returned in spades. It felt like someone had stabbed
me with an adrenaline filled syringe, and my limbs started to
shake, a slick of sweat covering my top lip and running across my
shoulders.

People
were staring at me.

And the
stares weren't kind. They were enquiring, suspicious, and
calculating.

I had to
get out of here, and I had to get to safety.

I pushed away, trying to make myself a small target as I
hunched my shoulders in and huddled my arms around my middle, but I
couldn’t control my thoughts.

One
question kept impressing itself upon my mind. Was this the right
thing to do?

Out of everyone in this entire universe, Mark Havelock was my
only friend.

And he’d
kept asking me to trust him.

Yet I’d
just run away.

Was this
the right thing to do?

I
couldn’t answer that. I had no idea what Mark was doing and no idea
what was happening to me. I had no idea why he was pretending I was
someone else.

But
there was one thing I knew: I couldn’t go back down
there.

I had to
get some place safe. Though the compulsion was gone, that fact rang
true in my mind, louder and larger than any other
thought.

Now I no
longer had my implant, I couldn’t use the few universal credits to
my name. If I’d had access to money, I could have ducked into any
number of shops and synthesized myself some new clothes and
shoes.

I had to find something else to wear; I was sticking out.
Everyone kept staring from my rumpled tunic to my bare feet, then
back to my face with suspicion. I probably look like I’d broken
out
of
the
hospital ... because I had.

I didn’t
have anything to trade, and I doubted anyone around these parts
would help me for free.

I just
had to get out of here. So I tucked my head down, and I
walked.

...

Anna Carter

It
didn't take long until I reached the familiar clean streets of the
diplomatic district.

By that
time I was a wreck. It was also becoming impossible to stop the
stares. I was still dressed in my overly large white hospital
tunic, and by now my expression was haunted, my cheeks a sickly
white.

If
someone hadn't called the security forces, they would
soon.

I didn't
know where I was going, or at least my conscious mind
didn't.

My body
kept pushing me forward, until finally I ran right into the back of
someone.

They
were rock hard, and I bounced off their back, promptly falling on
my ass.

Captain
Fargo turned. At first he looked concerned, but then his expression
quickly contorted with alarm. “You.”

“
You’ve got to help me.” I latched a hand on his sleeve and
looked pleadingly into his eyes.

He
looked shocked.

“
I just ... I escaped from the clinic where they were holding
me. If you could call it a clinic. I ... I don’t know what’s going
on,” I stumbled over my words.

He
pressed his lips into a frown and checked something on his wrist
device. “Escaped from your clinic? According to records, you were
discharged and sent to the nearest newfound institute.”

“
... That’s impossible. It wasn’t an institute – it was a
cell. They ... They kept running tests on me. And I ....” I
shivered as I locked my arms around my middle.

“
You are confused. I will take you somewhere and get you the
help you need.”

“
No, the only thing I need right now is for someone to start
listening to me,” I snapped, voice teetering on the edge of
hysteria.

“
Why is that every time I see you, you’re harassing the people
who are trying to help you?” Someone said from behind
me.

Fargo’s
expression slackened, his eyes drawing wide.

I knew
who it was before I turned, knotted hair tumbling over my
shoulder.

Hart.

He
locked me in the same disdainful look I’d become used to. Though,
just for a second it crumpled with something close to concern as he
took in my disheveled appearance.

“
I am sorry for disturbing you, your grace.” Fargo nodded his
head low. Then he took a step in front of me, as if trying to hide
my appearance from view.

“
First it was your betrothal, and now it is the police.
Newfound one, you are granted a certain period upon waking to
adjust to this universe. But you do not mistake that as an
allowance to attack and belittle the people who are trying to help
you.”

I felt
sick. But that wasn’t all: the pain behind my left eye was
back.

A
feeling – a truly peculiar one – started to build in my stomach. It
was so sudden and strange, I had to clamp a hand over
it.

Fargo’s
brow crumpled. “Sorry, what was that? Betrothal?” He looked back at
me.

“
I first met this woman in the Contracts Office,” Hart pointed
out dismissively, “when she was complaining vociferously about her
betrothal.”

Fargo’s brow dug harder into his eyebrows. “That’s
impossible; she’s not betrothed. There must have been some kind of
mistake, your grace. Her name is Miranda Fall, and there is no
existing contract to her name. She is a recent newfound one, and
she is suffering from confusion.”

“
I saw this woman’s betrothal contract, and I’m not confused,”
Hart said with an impassive stare. “I suggest you check her
identity again, as you are the one who’s mistaken.”

Relief
flooded through me, but I could barely note it. For some reason I
was frozen on the spot as if someone had turned me to
ice.

That
strange feeling kept building. It was dancing faster and faster
with every second.

Fargo’s
brow crumpled with obvious concern and confusion. “I simply don’t
understand how that’s possible,” he said after a lengthy pause in
which he studied me closely.