The Light Blue Jumper Page 19

  “It seems they don’t believe in putting up sign posts on Zaaron,” I said with resignation.

  “Apparently, except for the really important buildings,” The Good Doctor replied, as he pointed to a sign identifying Weapons Control in big red letters, perched on a steel and glass megalith.

  We managed to make our way in without incident, using the access codes Zaaro had given us. It was fortunate they were still current. Slowly we made our way towards the inner sanctum. As we paused to get our bearings, I saw an IPF sergeant lying prone in a darkened corner. He had been bound hand and foot. I motioned to The Good Doctor to check if he was breathing. He was.

  “Are you Salaar’s friends?” he asked rather convivially for a man in his position.

  “Yes. I trust you ran into him earlier?” I asked.

  “Yes. Did he mention me? We had a lovely chat, turns out we share the same alma mater,” he said pleasantly.

  “How wonderful! We’d love to hear all about it, some other time. Any idea where he is?” I asked.

  “He left a short while ago, with a Zaaronian, in a shuttle. Now I have a few questions of my own. He told me to contact someone called Madam X if I ever wanted something different from life. I suppose she processes defections; my guess is she must be a secretary of some sort, in, oh, probably, the Department of Rebel Recruitment? Any idea who she is?”

  “None whatsoever,” I told him sincerely.

  “You look like a knowledgeable sort of fellow,” he said addressing The Good Doctor, “there is someone who I’ve been meaning to find out more about, a personal hero of mine,” he lowered his voice reverentially, “they call him The Good Doctor.”

  “What about him?” I interjected.

  “I have heard most people dismiss his existence as a conspiracy theory, a product of the rebel propaganda machine. But I believe he’s real. A super spy, who can crack any code and steal secrets from inside inter-galactic safety deposits,” he whispered in awe.

  “The majority is right on this one, I’m afraid. He doesn’t exist,” I clarified for him.

  “But I’ve heard from a credible source, mind you, a friend of a friend, if you must know, that he single-handedly carried out the biggest information heist from the IPF ever accomplished in living history,” he attempted a flourish but was constrained by his hands being bound.

  “Again, that is untrue. The heist you speak of was carried out by the Zaaronian you mentioned seeing with Salaar.” I enjoyed the crushed look on his face. Meanwhile The Good Doctor had moved to a corner to sulk.

  “Let’s get out of here soldier, we’ll have to find our comrades on the outside,” I motioned to The Good Doctor with a degree of impatience.

  “All right then, thanks for your help,” The Good Doctor said, quite unnecessarily, as we left.

  “No problem, I’ll just lie here then I suppose,” he said with resignation.

  “Yes, we can’t untie you while your affiliation is still with the other side, I’m afraid. It’s standard protocol,” I said, my voice filled with apparent regret.

  “Weren’t you a little too harsh?” The Good Doctor asked me later. “The poor fellow was just thinking aloud.”

  “He would have given away all our secrets in under ten minutes over coffee and a piece of cake. We are better off without the chatty misogynist,” I told him in no uncertain terms.

  81. The Good Doctor

  I knew it would be up to me to get us all off Zaaron in one piece. There was no point indulging Madam’s leadership ambitions any further. It was time for the spymaster to step forward from the shadows. I realised I must have said the last bit out loud as Madam turned around with a start. “It’s for a book I’m writing,” I hastily explained; I was definitely going to save it for my autobiography, so it wasn’t strictly untrue.

  “The one where you get killed by your own comrades?” she asked sweetly.

  “Why would you say that?” I asked, crushed.

  “My mistake, I thought that would be the central theme of any book you write. Or wait, the book is about me, isn’t it?” she giggled.

  “I would be honoured and delighted to write about you,” I said, as a heaving crowd formed around us, surging towards the exits.

  “We’re going to get crushed!” Madam shouted.

  Loudspeakers were blaring. “Rebels are among us. Look carefully around you and report suspicious activity. The General is overseeing their capture and will conduct the investigation of the incident personally and give a substantial reward for valuable information!”

  “They are hiding what has actually happened,” Madam whispered joyously, “a cover-up is a sure sign of success.”

  “Stay close,” I urged her, I tried to grab her hand, but the waves of movement pulled us in different directions. All I could see was her retreating behind. I would not let her be a martyr to our cause. It was time for me to take action.

  I grabbed hold of a security officer and shouted, “I have information! I know where she is! Clear the way, I’ll take you to her!”

  The fellow seemed confused, “Whom, whom will you take me to?” he asked as I pulled him in the direction I had last seen her rolling. “The rebel leader!” I shouted impatiently. “Come on, or should I ask someone else?”

  “Yes, that would be better,” he said, genuinely relieved, “I am quite busy trying to prevent a stampede at the moment, but I will disseminate a description. How would you describe her?”

  “Short, round, dark hair, glasses, cute little pug nose, sharp to a fault,” I stopped to reminisce, “Once she actually thought I was an IPF spy,” I chuckled. “She is remarkably astute, very beautiful…”

  “There, there,” he interrupted, patting my shoulder awkwardly. “I don’t know how I will go on without her,” I stifled a sob.

  “All is not lost, don’t give up hope,” he said, pulling me to my feet as he mumbled something in code into his comms. Then he grabbed my arm and started pushing through the teeming mass, shouting “Move aside, move aside!” I tried to get a hold of his gun, but he wouldn’t let me. “I said, do not give up hope,” he repeated. “No, no, I want to aim it into the crowd,” I reassured him. “It’ll explode if you aim it at civilians,” he told me. I did a double take, perhaps they were turning over a new leaf, when he continued, “Other than in the G-Sectors, of course. There, it switches to auto.”

  We covered some distance before I saw her. She was surrounded by guards, letting loose a stream of invective that made my ears turn red. “We’ve got her!” One announced triumphantly as my escort and I approached. “She matches the description you sent in. Short, fat, dark hair, pug nose, glasses.”

  “That is not how I described her! I never once said fat,” I pleaded with Madam, “I used the word round and that too in the nicest possible way.”

  “He definitely said fat,” said my nemesis, looking towards the ring of guards for support, all of whom concurred emphatically.

  “I was trying to find you so that I could save you from imminent death,” I said, hoping to draw her mind away from linguistic trifles.

  “By getting me arrested and executed?” Madam was incredulous.

  “My plan was for us to be escorted safely out of the crush and then,” here I paused, as I noticed all the security officers were listening intently. I lowered my voice and whispered, “We could get to the shuttle dock and,” again, I saw all eyes and ears trained on me. “And?” they were waiting for me to continue. “I don’t have anything definite in mind quite as yet. I would have improvised,” I finished awkwardly.

  “Terrible plan, if you ask me,” the security officer clucked. “I would have done it very differently.”

  “Please explain, since you know so much about making plans and rating them,” I asked him with indignation.

  “Well, I would have pretended to have been injured and gotten myself on an outbound hospital ship,” he said proudly.

  “That is brilliant! I am very impressed,” I told him with frank admiratio
n. I can’t say exactly how many seconds later it was that Madam shot me in the foot. “Pretend! He said pretend!” I protested in pain and disbelief.

  “Oh, I didn’t hear that part, sorry,” she said with a visible lack of remorse.

  I turned to the security officer for support. “She is a very dangerous and terrible woman,” he said gravely. “Let’s get you to the hospital ship my friend, we will not be able to treat you in the field hospital here, the injury is too serious.”

  “I feel awful. I don’t know what came over me, perhaps I should go along, just to make sure he’s all right,” Madam said hopefully.

  “We’ll let you know how he gets on. Escort her to the General,” he told the other guards, “and be careful, you’ve seen what she’s capable of.”

  I looked back to see a forlorn-looking Madam being marched resolutely in the direction of the General. Doubled over in pain, I clutched my bleeding foot. “I’m dying, I’m sure of it. I must tell her how I feel. I must!”

  “Plenty more fish in the sea, if you ask me. You’re worth ten of her. I say let this one go,” he counselled.

  “Please!” I begged him, getting fully into character. I decided to clutch my heart this time instead of my foot, as that seemed more appropriate in the current scenario. It had the opposite effect to what I desired though, and I ended up being rushed at full speed to the cardiac unit of the hospital ship, while Madam, presumably, reached the General in record time.

  82. Madam X

  I could not believe he had called me fat. Shooting The Good Doctor in the foot had been instinctive, although to be fair, it wasn’t my first thought. Kneecapping him had been something I toyed with for a couple of seconds, but I had remembered years of camaraderie and stopped myself.

  The General was as pleased to see me as I was her. “How nice of you to drop in to my command quarters, Madam. Is there anything in particular that you want to steal? Wait, you’ve already stolen something from me. I don’t know how you’ve managed it yet, but I know you’re behind the password theft.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, focused on stopping myself from giggling.

  Just then a worried-looking Major came in, brow permanently furrowed in deep thought, eyes creased with the cares of the world, lips pursed slightly under a thin wiry moustache, and whispered something to her. The General’s response was loud enough for me to hear. She said “I am the only one who knew the password to the launch sequence. I know this is a conspiracy to have me displaced, but I have successfully deflected any suspicion during my last encounter with the Council. We will handle this right here, Major, no need to report recent developments.”

  She turned her attention back to me. “I’ll ask nicely, once, give me the new password,” she said.

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insisted.

  “Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance” she sighed. “Bring out the TM 1000.”

  The Major quailed before saluting and stepping away. I was quite sure she was bluffing. The TM 1000 was a myth, a propaganda tool used to frighten the general populace into unquestioning obedience. Nobody living had ever seen one, or maybe it was that none who saw it ever lived. Snap out of it, I chided myself.

  A bright shiny red two-pronged machine with TM 1000 emblazoned on the side in big gold letters was wheeled in shortly. The Major removed my handcuffs and led me to it. He attached me to one of the prongs, with a leather strap around my head holding me in place, before retreating to a corner.

  It’s beautiful,” I said reverently, admiring the shine, the vintage colours. “Does it actually work?”

  “What the hell do you think I’ve brought it out for?” The General snapped. “Show and tell? Of course it works!”

  “So if you were to use it on me, it would unlock all the secrets of my mind? And leave nothing behind?” I asked, in a mocking tone.

  “Yes. Although I’m sure you won’t feel any different, your mind seems a fairly vacant place in any case,” she said, shrugging.

  “Have you ever tried it on yourself? It probably refused. I’m sure there is minimum eligibility criteria built into the machine,” I countered.

  “It would relish the opportunity. It would be a privilege for the poor machine to deal with an intelligent brain instead of its usual fare, which is unfortunately, people like you,” she responded calmly.

  “What the defectors say about you is true,” I said. “I’ve heard you’re a coward,” I continued, “the kind of General who brings up the rear, if you know what I mean.” I giggled. “Don’t be too hard on yourself though, not everyone can be a bold and fearless leader like me.”

  “I too have heard stories Madam, of how it is The Good Doctor who leads from the shadowy depths while you are simply a figurehead; a PR move. Although why they couldn’t find a better-looking person for that role, I fail to understand,” she said.

  “I answer to no one. You can’t say the same for yourself, though. You’re just a puppet in the hands of the Council.” I had planned to anger her into making some kind of tactical error but as I continued it was getting immensely enjoyable, so I carried on, and on. “Perhaps it’s time for you to step down? You could go back into training and actually learn something this time. I can put in a good word for you at Military School, I have considerable respect there.”

  “I know what you are hoping to achieve, Madam. But I work with imbeciles every day of the week,” she pointed at the Major as a flush rose, and then receded, from her features, “I have a very high threshold for stupidity.”

  “Oh, you have no idea what I deal with on a daily basis. My staff is so dim, you would consider your officers the embodiment of intelligence,” I decided to complain as well.

  “No one can be worse than my head of security, trust me on this. If he ever expressed the slightest desire to switch sides, I’d send him to you with a golden handshake.”

  “Most of the time I think my entire team are double agents in any case, no one can do so much harm to a cause through sheer ineptitude.”

  “That’s actually not hard to believe considering you have never managed to do anything,” she replied. “What did you actually get from the infamous data heist? An incomplete list, a few names, already known?”

  “We got through your defences,” I said smugly.

  “You obviously have some fool on the inside. Now, how did you manage to get the password? I am the only one who knew it and I didn’t give it to you,” she said.

  “Perhaps you did,” I told her mysteriously.

  “Are you accusing me of being a fool or a traitor? Quite cunning, I must say, a ploy to destroy my reputation in front of the Council to make sure I have no option but to join you,” she said in appreciation.

  “Why would you think we want you to join us? We have a very high standard for defectors,” I responded. That was false; we took anyone who came along, really.

  “If I wanted to join, the Rebel Movement would be rolling out the red carpet. You would be cast aside the minute the rebels saw what I could do for them,” she snorted with laughter.

  “Well, we could look into a position for you in the middle ranks, where you could work your way up or down, as the case may be,” I said sweetly. “My prediction is that you would retire as an internee.”

  “I will always be your superior, you overbearing, condescending KERPLONKER!” She was the first one to lose her cool; I had won this round. I hoped I wouldn’t regret it too much as the General yelled, “Turn on the machine! Do I have to do everything around here myself,” she said as the Major moved forward too slowly for her liking. She adjusted a dial. The officer cleared his throat and attempted to speak, perhaps he was going to get me a reprieve, maybe he was on our side. I wondered feverishly whether I had seen him before. “Auto it is!” She smiled as she pushed the button.

  I wish I had paid more attention during meditation classes, I wish I had chosen a career in academia, I wish my rescue party had arriv
ed by now, my wish list was endless as I waited for my brain to be scrambled. Goodbye Zaaro, we will never know what could have been. Good Doctor, we had good times and bad. Lethal and Dinaara, I have never quite trusted you but I hope I was wrong. My golden boy Salaar, I will always be proud of you. I waited a while, but it seemed nothing was happening. Getting a tad impatient, I decided to open my eyes and take a quick look around.

  Everything was as it was. The General was standing opposite me and the Major was standing at a respectful distance, while the machine whirred. Perhaps mental annihilation was a slow process; maybe that’s why they called it the Torture Matic 1000. It was 1000 times slower than the other machines and it tortured people by making them wait forever on the brink of the abyss.

  Soon I ran out of people to thank and bid farewell to. It made me realise what a limited circle I had. I made my first resolution: to get out more. I would also become a kinder and more affable person so as to help me make more friends when I was out and about. I heard the machine sputter to a stop as I made my second resolution.

  I glanced over at the General to see that she was looking at me wild-eyed. For the first time, I was genuinely afraid. What have they done to me? Have I been reduced to a deranged drooling creature, the stuff of space fiction? Is my alteration physical as well as mental? I realised thinking thoughts was a diversion I could still engage in. I looked down at my feet, they were flat and wide like paddles, which was a little strange, but then I recalled that they had always been that way. I ventured a glance at the General again, but she seemed lost in thought. “Do I look the same?” I asked the Major.

  “Yes,” he said, sounding apologetic.

  I turned my attention towards the General again. She seemed oddly frail and considerably younger than my initial impression had been, and seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. “Detach me!” I said, and was pleasantly surprised that the Major obeyed after glancing at the General for any sign of opposition. I began to move towards her.