Level: Novice

Annhadnia dragged Muna down the last ten feet of the red tunnel and out, onto a bank of soft, cool grass. They collapsed, letting the soft bed and gentle breeze soothe the intense pain in their heads from the tunnel’s pressure.
“Thank you!” Muna gasped.
“He must have been here before!” Annhadnia croaked, in his rough rendition of English, missing out the letter ‘t’. “I don’t think a human would put himself through that pain without knowing there would be an end to it.”
“Where the hell are we?”
“Hell? You think there is such a place?”
“I don’t know anymore, Annhadnia. Let’s keep moving. Tantor can’t have gone far. Into those trees!”
The time Muna and Annhadnia had spent in Currency’s prison cells had not been spent idly, both learning each other’s language and a little of their cultures. The President had turned to the Ischian after the King, Omacron and Mesago had left and whispered:
“Well my friend, it’s time for some simple truths. Before I was President of Tasman, I had another name; Tantor. The man that visited the cell with Mesago? His real name isn’t Omaya at all. It’s Omacron. We have a very long history. There’s something I have to do. It’s as Tantor that I’m asking of you one last favour. Haven’t I been magnanimous in our dealings?”
“You fed me and had your people heal me. I would have died without your help.”
“So we’re almost even. I release you from my service with one last favour.”
“What might that be … Lord Tantor.”
“I need to get out of here tonight. I know you two don’t care anymore who you serve, but I do. Can you bend these bars?”
“With one arm, it is unlikely, but I will try.”
“Don’t help him!” Muna protested. “He deserves to rot in here, even if we don’t!”
“He brought me back to life Muna. Ischian honour demands it.”
However, try as he might, the crippled Ischian could not bend the thick bars apart far enough for even the still-slim Muna to slip through.
“Quiet!” Tantor hissed, when Annhadnia began to growl with the effort.
“What’s going on in there!” the guard cried, from beyond the armoured door that led to the row of cells.
“It’s no use!” Annhadnia grunted, collapsing in a heap at the back of the cell.
Keys rattled in the outer door, and the guard entered, eyeing the occupants of the cells.
“What’s up with that creature?” the man asked, nodding toward Annhadnia.
“He’s sick, probably dying,” Tantor replied quickly, seeing an opportunity.
“Ace! Might as well be cactus, for all I care,” the guard replied, eying Annhadnia warily. “Worse than a sandgroper, these aliens!”
“Now he’s disabled, perhaps you’d give me something?” Muna murmured, leaning against the bars of her cell and bending over to reveal her ample cleavage.
“Well honey, that might be arranged. What would you like?”
The guard sidled up to Muna’s cell and reached an eager hand toward her breasts. Quick as a rattlesnake, she grabbed his wrist and bent the guard’s arm behind his back. He cried out in pain while Muna pulled the ring of keys from the man’s belt and threw them to the floor beside Annhadnia’s feet.
The giant alien was on his feet and working the lock with the keys in a moment. His big fingers were nevertheless nimble and he open his door while Muna struggled to keep one hand over the guard’s mouth.
“I can’t hold him much longer!” she growled.
Annhadnia stumbled from his cell and whipped the incapacitated guard’s head round through half a turn, breaking his neck.
“I thought you were against Tantor’s escape?” Annhadnia whispered.
“I was helping you!”
They both looked at the eager Tantor.
“Do we let him out?” Annhadnia asked.
“Up to you.”
“Let him go. At least he’ll keep quiet that way.”
“Yeah. I bet he’s a squealer.”
Tantor followed them through the open second door and through a series of dim corridors until they reached a long flight of wide, stone steps.
“Not these ones!” Tantor hissed. “Those!”
He pointed to a narrow set of steps, barely visible on the other side of a storage cellar.
It was only when Tantor peered out of the door at the top and saw that the way was clear that he told them his plan.
“I’m going to take Omacron’s woman!”
Before either the Ischian or Munu could react, he had sprinted across a courtyard and vanished into the shadows.
Annhadnia looked at Muna and hissed:
“I’m not sure I like his plan.”
“I’m with you.”
“I wouldn’t have let him out if I’d known! I don’t know this Omacron, but if he’s a friend of Mesago, the black man should be warned.”
“Right. But where is he? Don’t you think we’d be better off getting out of here?”
Night was falling outside the door. Annhadnia had excellent night vision, so he had no difficulty leading Muna through the City’s outer defences and up a flight of steps to the ramparts of the wall.
“What can you see?” Muna asked, as the alien turned through a full circle, scanning the City and its surroundings.
“I don’t see anything useful, but I hear men shouting. They know we’ve gone. Any moment they’ll find us.” The big alien turned, placed his huge fists on the cold stone of the wall and stared into the void outside the City. “There!” he cried.
“What?”
“A man, carrying a woman. I think it’s the President.”
“You mean Tantor?”
“Yes. We’ve had many conversations about life, Muna. You often say you find it hard to see any reason for staying alive anymore. I never admitted, but I sometimes feel the same. I see one now though. I’m going to stop him. It’s been good knowing you.”
“Wait a minute. I’m coming too.”
“Good.”
Annhadnia and Muna reached the field in the centre of the whirling black clouds just as Omaya stepped into the tunnel after Tantor.
The wind whipped around the alien and his friend like a hurricane.
“What now?” Muna screamed, over the noise.
Annhadnia’s jaw opened to reveal two long rows of sharp teeth and four fangs in what Muna knew was a smile. He stepped into the tunnel.
Muna hesitated for a moment before following, but she didn’t notice a man with a wooden leg and top hat lead a dishevelled man into the tunnel behind her. The tunnel was a terrible ordeal for Muna, its air-pressure intensifying as the red walls, which felt soft to the touch, much like the bowels of a monster, expanded and contracted. The ordeal only ended when Annhadnia dragged her onto the cool grass beyond.

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