Chapter Twenty-Five
Jack and Madelaine followed Warden Marcus Draven. They saw guards running, vehicles deploying and searchlights activating. Whatever was happening, the prison was taking it seriously even if Draven was not particularly worried.
They exited out the door they’d entered when they arrived. There was no guard standing duty. In fact, the whole yard was empty.
Draven headed toward the arched opening in the wall, but his stride had slowed and he had checked his tactical watch twice since they left the building.
Madelaine, who had also sensed the oddness of Draven’s attitude, pointedly looked in Jack’s direction, signaling that perhaps they should be wary.
Jack nodded. “Slow down, Draven. I have some questions before we go any further.”
Draven stopped, turned to face them and pushed out a long sigh as if he were being put upon. His expression seemed sort of open to queries, so Jack asked, “Who escaped and why aren’t you worried about it?”
Draven was quiet for several moments, as if calculating the right words to say. “All right. The escapee is an inmate named Varner Kessik. Do you know of him? Of what he can do?”
The name meant nothing to Jack. He shook his head. Apparently, it meant nothing to Madelaine either, as she also shook her head.
Before Jack could ask more questions, Draven pushed the button on his shirt collar. “Go for Draven.” He listened, then his eyes closed briefly. Jack couldn’t tell whether the man was relieved or disturbed. “Got it. Hold them off as long as you can.”
Draven motioned for them to get moving and started walking like it was Tuesday and this was no big deal, even as they were deafened by the klaxon and blinded by the red lights that announced this was a huge problem.
They reached a large intersection where security teams had hurried in multiple directions when they’d landed here, but not now. It was as quiet as a graveyard at midnight.
Draven stopped a few feet from the archway.
“Now what’s wrong?” Madelaine asked, her contempt resonating in her tone.
Draven inhaled and exhaled. “There is a…well, I’ll call it a complication.”
Jack immediately disliked the sound of that.
“Does the complication involve our ship? Because I know it is right past that wall and around the corner.” It was just out of sight.
Jack wished he could see it to ensure that it had not been set on fire or something by the escaped prisoner who was apparently not a problem. Whatever.
The warden nodded. “Unfortunately, it’s currently inaccessible.”
Jack groaned. Of course it was. Why wouldn’t it be?
They’d traveled halfway across the galaxy only to get trapped inside a prison during an escape attempt.
“What do you mean ‘inaccessible’?” Madelaine asked, her tone skeptical.
“The landing field has been sealed.” Draven pointed at the archway several steps from them. “I know you can see the forcefield there.”
“Yes. Why?” Madelaine asked.
“Standard protocol.”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I am really beginning to hate the word protocol. I cannot be held liable for my actions if you say that word again.”
Draven’s mouth twitched. Possibly amusement. Possibly indigestion. With him, it was difficult to tell.
“The prisoner was last seen moving toward the outer compound.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Toward our ship.”
“Correct.”
That wasn’t good. Not good at all.
Several unpleasant possibilities immediately occurred to him. Most involved stolen spacecraft, explosions or, worse, dying far from home.
Madelaine folded her arms. “Why would this Varner Kessik go there?”
Draven hesitated, but only briefly. He looked directly at Madelaine and then at the cardboard box. “As strange as this may sound, I believe he wants to assist you. Otherwise, I would not be involved in trying to help him with the charade of a prison break so that no one sees him meet with you.”
Jack’s brain sort of did a double-take. What? Around him, the alarm continued blaring and red light pulsed rhythmically around them even though the area was empty except for the three of them. He’d just noticed that the archway did indeed look like there was a forcefield in effect.
Jack stared at Draven. Madelaine stared at him. Draven remained irritatingly calm.
“What?” Jack asked. “We’re meeting with the escaped prisoner? Are you insane?”
The warden sighed. “No. Not insane. Don’t be alarmed. I don’t believe he intends any harm to you. I believe he is trying to help you.”
“What makes you think so?”
Draven lowered his voice. “Varner Kessik requested permission to meet with Winslow in his tower cell six months ago.”
That got their attention. Madelaine said, “Why?”
“I don’t know, but Winslow wouldn’t see him. Kessik was persistent. In fact, he spent four months attempting to speak with the old man.”
Jack frowned.
“And?”
“And Winslow refused, time after time. On the last request, I spoke to Winslow myself. He told me, ‘It’s not time to meet yet, but soon.’”
Madelaine's patience was clearly at an end. “Tell me what you are talking about or the gulag’s first female visitor is going to damage the warden who explains things way too slowly.”
“Fine. Winslow kept refusing Kessik’s request until recently.”
“How recently?” Jack asked.
“Three days ago.” Draven said. “That was when Winslow agreed to meet Kessik.”
Jack frowned as if he didn’t like where this was heading. Madelaine certainly didn’t. Not one bit.
“So, Winslow finally talked to him three days ago?” she asked.
“Yes. Briefly.”
“What about?”
The warden spread his hands. “No one knows.”
Of course no one knew. That would have been too easy. Madelaine balled up one hand and looked like she wanted to make a full-fledged fist and show it to the warden.
Draven continued. “The day after their conversation, Kessik submitted a different request.”
“What kind of request?” Madelaine asked.
“He requested permission to wait near Landing Pad Twelve the next time a woman visited here.”
Jack barked out a laugh. “That seems oddly specific, since women don’t ever visit here.”
Draven nodded. “Indeed. And at the time, I didn’t believe it, either.
” The warden’s expression darkened. “But then your imminent arrival was announced and I received…let’s call it an anonymous tip.
I had to put together a quick plan. This is it.
I promise, I’m only trying to help. And it seems like Winslow gave you what he had, but it isn’t all that you need, correct? ”
Madelaine looked at the cardboard box Jack had securely tucked under his arm. Then at the warden. He was right. She didn’t have everything. They both knew it, but Jack kept his vigilance high. He moved a step closer to Madelaine.
“You’re saying you enabled this guy’s technical escape because three days before you even knew we were coming, he told you he wanted to meet us? And you got some kind of anonymous tip?”
Draven nodded. “That about sums it up. Varner Kessik is here for a similar reason as Winslow. They each have certain intellectual powers that are not completely understood, and can certainly be considered dangerous, but I believe them.”
Madelaine looked thoughtful. Jack remained wary, but thought it was good of Draven to try and help them. He knew these prisoners better than they did. Jack’s gut told him they were not in danger, which could change on a dime, but for now he didn’t sense Draven was on the wrong side of this.
“Then he’s not running away,” Madelaine clarified.
“No.” Draven shook his head. “Otherwise, I would not have helped him. He was quite passionate about his request to meet you, though he could not tell me the precise reason. I also didn’t believe a woman was coming here.
And I know him well enough to know this must be very important. I hope I’m doing the right thing.”
The warden reached into his coat and removed a small electronic key.
He tossed it toward Jack.
Jack caught it automatically, and didn’t even drop the cardboard box.
“What’s this?”
“This releases the forcefield behind us. You’re free to go, but I’m hoping you will speak to Kessik before you leave.”
Jack looked at the key.
Then at the warden.
“What happens if we don’t speak to him before we leave?”
“Nothing. You are, as I said, free to go. However, my understanding is you do not have what you need to proceed. Am I wrong? It’s possible Kessik has what you need, if you are willing to speak to him.”
Madelaine said, “Do you really believe Kessik is no threat? And will you come with us to ensure that possibility?”
“Yes, I will,” Draven said sounding slightly uplifted.
“Not only am I in charge of this gulag, I’m also able to make command decisions regardless of how crazy they might be.
Today, I would very much like to discover why a prisoner made a formal request to escape only a few steps away from the most secure facility in the Andromeda galaxy simply to meet two travelers after discussing his plan with another prisoner three days before anyone knew you were even coming here. ”
The smile faded. “And I suspect you’re about to find out.”
Outside, somewhere beyond layers of secure stone walls and security fences, a fugitive prisoner was waiting beside their ship.
Maybe waiting to hand them the location of their next package. Maybe not. Somehow, that thought worried Jack far more than a prison escape or riot ever could. How had Kessik or Winslow known?
And yet, with his guard up, Jack figured they were about to meet Mr. Varner Kessik regardless.
They’d crisscrossed half the galaxy, survived a planet where women couldn’t even make a sound without penalty, nearly got stranded on a farming world, had to go off course after their fuel was stolen and met up with beings who spoke in his head to acquire what they needed.
Today, being trapped inside a prison while carrying a cardboard box that supposedly contained “the solution” and meeting up with an escaped prisoner because of temporary protocol—stupid word, protocol—to complete this package retrieval was maybe the least irrational thing they’d done this trip.
Jack said, “For the record, I think we should meet with him, Madelaine. What do you think?”
“I agree, because he’s right, we don’t have what we need to proceed.”
With a satisfied smile, Draven took the beret from his epaulette and tugged it over his head despite the competing scorching and frigid breezes in the yard. “Excellent. I’ll wait here while—”
“What is that?” Jack knew his mother would smack his hand for pointing but he didn’t care.
Draven frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
Following Jack’s lead, Madelaine pointed. “That. The insignia on your beret.”
Jack couldn’t take his eyes off it—a recognizable musical instrument on top of a swirl of red.
The warden looked at them both like they were wasting his time. “It’s the Red Harp Nebula. My regiment.”