ODIN'S WAR

THOR

At the same time, another group was holding a similar meeting, though it was at a far higher pitch. The Holy Order of Revolutionaries, THOR, had formed recently in a splinter group of MUSIC. They were not of the same mind as MUSIC, though they too were determined to overthrow I.C.C.E. B Based on an obscure island off the Argentinian coast, they were a tiny operation compared to MUSIC, but their zeal was certainly difficult -to surpass. Three survivors of the first revolution formed the core of the group along with a small band of refugees from the stun wars. Some were less than honest, and had found the THOR outpost a haven from the storms of Justice.

Sitting around a wooden table in the bright sunshine, the five leaders were discussing their future.

“I don’t see how your plan can work, Jesse,” said Jim, his twin brother. Both were showing signs of age, but they still had vigorous bodies and good health.

“That’s because you’re not as good a judge of character as I am,” said Jesse. “What do you say, Fromo?”

The white haired, snowy bearded wizard had indeed survived. No one was quite sure how he escaped the I.C.C.E. complex, but only that he turned up at the MUSIC camp a few months later. It was by his urging and persuading that Jim and Jesse left the camp to form their own group, which disagreed with the views of MUSIC.

“I say,” said Fromo, “that it is beyond question that it is our only course. We do not have the power to enact a direct overthrow of I.C.C.E., and MUSIC has foolishly forced us out. Therefore, we must wait for MUSIC’s revolution, and then enact our own revolution with a revolution, and seize control in the chaos.”

“Yes,” said Cooper, another member of Thor’s head council. “We must kill all of the key people as soon as possible. Then we must decimate their forces.”

“This is unquestionably a revolution to the death,” said Jesse, “Ours or theirs. That is why we will succeed as MUSIC will fail.”

“But we must be careful” said Jim, “Spurion is not beyond torture should any of us be caught alive.”

“Nor are we,” said Fromo, “Nor are we. After all, Spurion has established. a society which is based on torture; if we can’t kill, we can’t die, if we can’t die, we can’t live, at least not without misery.”

“Right,’” said Cooper, a massive man with a thick squared jaw who always gave people the feeling that they were standing too close to him, even though he were several steps away. “That’s the way it’s gotta be.”

“In any case, it seems that MUSIC is about ready to strike, said Jesse, “so we must make plans as quickly as possible. We have managed to obtain a brief sketch of the plans of ICCE’s al, but we are still in the dark. Our man at MUSIC is attempting to get a copy of MUSIC’s attack plan, so we can follow close behind them.”

“We hear that Blake and Kevin Williams are joining MUSIC,” said Jim.

“Yes,” said Fromo. “That is good. Perhaps we can persuade Blake

to join our cause. His father died at the hands of Spurion. Revenge is an easy thing to excite, especially in a soldier like him.”

“We will hope so,” said Jesse, “Our philosophy and our revolution depend on it.”

“Before we begin our final plans,” said Fromo, “I need a drink. Anyone else care for one?” They all nodded a yes. “Good,” said Fromo, bringing out a large beaker of white, foaming liquid and several glasses. “It is far more social. After all, we all need the pleasant things of life occasionally.” A slight trace of steam could be seen rising from the mixture and hardly anyone but Fromo could drink it without a grimace. Fromo maintained that it slowed the aging process and encouraged them all to drink it, though he never told them exactly what was in it.

To be sure, a high level of alcohol, but mixed with what, no one knew.

It had a disorienting effect to the point that all who drank it seemed to go mad, hallucinate, and become extremely agitated, .a state which Fromo seldom seemed to be out of.

Drinking cautiously, more from fear than from prudence, the group continued their discussion, which soon degenerated into tirades against Spurion, and shouts of “Freedom, Death, and Vengeance!” It was decided, however, that the revolt would occur probably the day after tomorrow, which meant that final preparations began in the morning.

Incensed by the drink and the idea that a t last, after a long wait of 15 years, they would be able to wreak a brutal and bloody revenge, they proceeded to stomp through their own camp, dragging their fellows out by the heels and encouraging them to get up, though it was dark and getting late, and to have a party. Soon they were all about, some two or three hundred, shooting old rifles at their chickens and goats in the dark, making a slaughter house out of their own camp.

Cooper, taking more than he should of the white mixture romped about pushing people to the ground and kicking things over, bellaring all the while, “We have the right to kill, and the right to die” over and over again.

Back at the ICCE complex, Spurion found himself confronted with several disturbing problems. Somehow things did not seem to be going well, just when it seemed they should. He had lost contact with objective 17. He had lost Marie. His appointment to the Board of Angelic Harmony had to be someone he knew wouldn’t rebel against him, and he had less than two days to make a selection. It therefore seemed appropriate to call an executive meeting with his ‘advisors’ in order to determine the next move and to assess the situation.

Spurion’s meetings proceeded entirely unlike THOR’s or MUSIC’s. Everyone present was made to sit straight, not leaning on the table. They were to be silent except for Spurion, who prodded them with questions in between his discourse on strategy and operations. Occasionally he would ask for comments from the floor, when a brave ‘advisor’ would sometimes make a suggestion, which Spurion may or may not accept.

Present at the meeting were the Archangel no. 7, chief advisor on the board of Angelic Harmony, Marcus, chief Scientist, General Gensing, Chief of the Army, J. Sarkozy, Chief of satellite and defense systems, and Spurion himself. Marie would normally be present as chief of Religion, but of course was unaccounted for at this particular meeting.

“My fellow board members,” began Spurion, sitting at the head of the oval table, “I have a deeply rooted suspicion that something is amiss in our organization. There appears to be an unseen enemy in our system. Some kind of disease. We were unable to locate our chief of Religion at a most unfortunate time, as our guards were all drugged. General Gensing, would you report on the situation at Objective 17?” “There has been no contact,” said Gensing, a short squat man with curly blond hair and cold blue eyes,” with commander Blake Williams since the initial notice of the success of the mission. I fear there has been an insurrection.”

“Yes,” said Spurion, “I share your fear. If it is true, we may lose our vote on the board of Angelic Harmony. We must act in some way to secure the vote. Certainly Baspierre doesn’t know of the difficulty yet. We must be completely silent on the matter. What of the satellite crew, Sarkozy? Can they fly in the shuttle to Objective 17 tonight?”

“Yes, I believe so,” said Sarkozy, a tall gaunt dark haired man with a hawk like nose. “We could begin preparations for the flight almost immediately.”

“Good” said Spurion, “You go with them personally, and be sure the stuns on the shuttle are in full operation. I feel uneasy about the situation up there, and you must not hesitate to use force if necessary.”

“There will be no hesitation,” Sarkozy smiled sadistically. “You may be assured of that.”

“In the meantime,” said Spurion, “Marie Hollow must be located and taken care of. We have to stop this cancer that seems to be growing in our organization. Archangel 7 will be in charge of the irradication project to purge our system of all unbelievers or dissenters. Marie Hollow is the most important fugitive.” Spurion’s hate was settling more and more against his former Chief of Religion.

The meeting continued, but Sarkozy was excused to prepare the shuttle for the mission. He was a quite capable man in all respects but one.

His passion for a goal or for some personal achievement was too easily aroused, and he was therefore occasionally blinded by it. He met his crew at the launch pad, the only one in the ICCE organization (Baspierre possessed one) and told them of their mission. The crew consisted of six men, counting Sarkozy, who did not usually fly. The shuttle was almost exclusively used for satellite repair, and adjustment of the satellite stun mechanism, or perhaps to launch a small auxiliary satellite. The five crew members were selected from a group of a couple dozen flight trainees, and from time to time there were changes. Presently, there were four veterans and one recent addition, who had flown several practice flights. He was called ’Johnny,” a young and very bright kid with a lot of energy. He was well liked and admired for his talent.

“We will be flying at a sub orbit level,” began Sarkozy, addressing his crew, “to objective 17 in the Northern hemisphere. We are to be prepared immediately, and depart as soon and as quickly as possible. This is a high priority, dangerous mission which must be conducted with precision caution, and expediency. You may begin preflight preparation at once, and the ground crew is already refueling and preparing the launch pad.

I will see you on the launch pad in one hour.”

The crew quickly split up to get ready. “Johnny” Jogged to his cabin and began to pack his essentials bag, where each crew member carried their personal emergency kit, complete with mini-first aid kit, pack, flashlight, pocket knife, stove, and other things. Johnny packed the usual things before he went to be suited up, but this time, he added one unusual item: a sonic stun capsule, designed by James himself, which radiated high frequency waves that induced a state of unconsciousness almost immediately.

The sound was pitched high enough that it was difficult to discern, and more than likely, it would be discovered too late. Just a touch of uncertainty showed in Johnny’s pale, youthful face as he loaded his pack. His blond curly hair was a little unkempt, as he was unprepared for this. He had known this sudden mission was coming, but not this soon. He had not had contact with MUSIC for several days, as security was tight around the shuttle, the only space travelling vehicle in the complex-- indeed, the only air travelling vehicle.

The entire group of 6 soon met in the suiting up cabin, as the final preparations were made. They were each fitted with a light space suit

by assistants, who also checked the life support systems, though it shouldn’t have been necessary. However, one never knew. The crew boarded the shuttles from a platform bridge about 20 feet above the ground. Sarkozy manned the controls, the systems were carefully checked, and after several minutes of tense silence, particularly difficult for ’Johnny”, the shuttle rocked, its engine kicked in, and they launched out on their journey to the north. Or so it would seem. When Blake heard from one of his officers that he was wanted at the radio, and that a call from the shuttle was the reason, he felt a knot tighten in his belly, He was certain that Voltaire had finally sent someone to silence any apparent insurrection, or at least to discover the reason for his refusal to report. He picked up the receiver and said briskly, “Cap’n Williams here!”

“Hello, Cap’n!” came a cheery youthful voice. “This is ‘Johnny Shuttle’ comin’ on down your way. I’d really appreciate it if you could give me help with my bearings for landin’ near objective 17. I’m not real used to these here northern parts of nowhere.”

“Who are you?” asked Blake, astonished.

“I told you, ’Johnny shuttle,” came the reply. “You’ll know better when I land, which should be in about fifteen minutes. For now, let’s just say a friend.”

“All right,” said Blake, “Try to land on the north side, bearings 37-26.71. Take an easterly approach if you can. We’ll wait for you, signing off.”

“Sure thing, out.” came the reply.

Anticipation is far too tame a word for the feelings run rampant in Blake’s head as he t°°din the better northern air, sensing that his ‘treacherous’ actions were about to be found out. He expected a dour member of ICCE, particularly Sarkozy, to chastise and rebuke, and finally to send out heavy stun over the complex when no reply was given. A youthful, cheery voice, unknown and apparently friendly invoked a nervous suspicion.

Yet his wait was not really long enough, for he barely had time to get all the men inside the complex and stationed in readiness, while a group of his best men followed him to the north side of the compound, where they waited with stuns ready for the stranger’s arrival.

Their wait behind the outlying snow covered stones was soon rewarded by a tremendous roar and a blazing light. They crouched low behind the rock, shielding their faces for the landing, which was extremely bright. They shortly raised their heads, however, when the landing was completed. After a space of a couple of minutes a side door slid open from the cylindrical shaped, pointy nosed craft, and a single man emerged. Blake watched as the figure paused to look about and then headed toward the camp.

“Stop!” shouted Blake. The man stopped and turned.

“Cap’n Williams? It’s me, Johnny Shuttle. I’ve come alone, or at least I’m the only one who can walk and talk. You’ll find the others inside the shuttle.”

Blake nodded to his men to go out and inspect the shuttle. They cautiously entered, stuns in hand, but soon they were hauling out five unconscious bodies. “Look here Cap’n!” shouted Fitzgerald, the newly appointed lieutenant, “these men are from ICCE HQ” he pointed to the insignia on their suit sleeves. “Yes,” said Johnny. “But I am not.”

“Who are you with, then,” asked Blake.

“MUSIC” replied Johnny calmly.

Blake was completely shocked. The devil himself might have appeared and spoken that name. Or maybe a god, Blake didn’t know. All his recent memory was soaked with words against the evils of the ’Umms” and their last group to exist, MUSIC, which was supposed to have been destroyed decades ago, or so he had been informed. He had never liked his trainers, his ‘masters’ as they were called, who raised him from his adolescence, and attempted to erase his memory of his family and childhood. Now he began to get a feeling from this very young man, who spoke the word of an ‘evil’ organization, but who reminded him of his youngest days when he had a free easy manner long forgotten to him now.

“And why” began Blake calmly, as Johnny walked toward him, “is a member of MUSIC here in ICCE’s shuttle?”

“That, Cap’n, is a private matter for you and I to uncover soon. Time is very crucial, now: that the move has been made.” Johnny reached out to shake Blake’s hand. Blake politely responded.

“Let us go inside then and begin our talk.” said Blake simply.

“Fitzgerald?” he barked.

“Yes, Cap’n?”

“Take those men to a secure room and keep them under guard. They are not to know where they are, who we are, or anything whatsoever until I give the word. Understood?”

“Yes sir, will do,” replied Fitzgerald sharply.

Blake and Johnny walked to where Blake’s temporary control room and headquarters were set up inside the compound. Inside, Blake shut the door.

“What do you have to tell me?” Blake asked plainly, with no emotion in his voice.

“Well,” Johnny began, somewhat bashfully, but with an undertone of confidence, “It is the hope of MUSIC, that ICCE will cease to exist in a few days, perhaps by the day after tomorrow.”

“This is, you understand,” began Blake, “treason which can very likely result in torture, if not death.”

“Yes, that is true. But MUSIC is prepared to risk it. They’ve waited more than ten years. They also believe that you will aid them in their cause.”

“Perhaps,” replied Blake, “But what are you doing here? How do you figure in the plan, and what am I expected to do?”

“We are to fly tonight to ICCE’s main stun satellite and fix an electronic box to its circuits. The box will cause the satellite to send frequency waves to the ICCE headquarters, controlled by MUSIC headquarters. These waves will affect all sonic machinery in the ICCE complex, and can even be altered to affect certain other machinery. In the meantime, the ICCE complex will be .infiltrated by MUSIC, and the main computer complex will be taken over.”

“Then what do we do, after the box is fitted?” asked Blake.

“You, myself, and four of your best men fly to the ICCE complex and go after Spurion and the Archangels. By the time we arrive, the complex should be in utter confusion. It will be dangerous, quick, and spontaneous. That’s why we came for you and your men.” Johnny looked hard at Blake.

Blake sat motionless for a moment, his face taut and expressionless, but his eyes burning with excitement. Suddenly he felt light headed and cheerful.

“Let’s go, son. I know it’s what my life has been pointing too, against all the teaching, discipline and training I’ve had these last fifteen years. I feel that now, after my youth is gone, and my strongest years poisoned by the stun wars, Spring has finally come. The spring of my soul, and love for God. We cannot have a tyrant anymore. His meaning is none; ours is everything. Let’s go as soon as possible, I’ll pick the men and leave my brother Kevin in charge of this camp. They will wait for my return.”

The two newly met comrades, one a prematurely aged man, the other youthful and talented, went back to the shuttle, where Johnny gave Blake a crash course in its operation, and plans were made for provisions.

Later, Blake had a private meeting with Kevin, Fitzgerald, and two of his most experienced men, where the situation was carefully laid out. Kevin ensured Blake that his men, and probably all those he had just ‘liberated’ by taking the camp, would wait for him and wish him the best of luck, though they would not know the exact nature of his departure.

It was actually several hours before Johnny, Blake, and their crew were ready to take off. It was necessary that all were briefed to the plan in its entirety, sufficient provisions and weaponry, the basic operation of the shuttle, and so on. Since only Johnny was really familiar with space or air travel, the mission was a true test of nerves, and Fitzgerald especially was very anxious. In any case, they were finally settled in the shuttle, waiting as Johnny made the final adjustments.

When the shuttle lifted off, it shuddered at first, but soon was smoothly disappearing up into the sky. Inside, the atmosphere was very tense, the occupants all taken aback and in awe by this sudden adventure into the unknown, for such a serious, life threatening cause that none of the crew had anticipated. But these were men who had little at stake. Their lives had been dedicated to a deathless war, made sensible only by its hero, Blake Williams, who professed a sincere spirit.

They had no wives, children, or wealth. It seemed now that life should have meaning, if indeed, life was so important that it was to be preserved so carefully. The launching of the shuttle was an appropriate image for the situation.

Johnny was able to contact MUSIC’s H.Q. by using the shuttle’s communications system, so he was able to inform Jeremy of his success in getting Blake to back him, and that the mission would be completed in a few hours. This gave Jeremy the final assurance necessary to begin his move on the ICCE complex. “We will anticipate the placement of the sonic control device exactly 3 hours from now,” said Jeremy to Johnny over the microphone. “If there is any hold up, call immediately, but it will probably be too late, because we are beginning preparations to penetrate the ICCE complex now, and expect to be inside the computer section in 2 hours. . We’re counting on your success.”

Jeremy got up from the radio set, located deep in MUSIC’s underground headquarters, and picked up the microphone for the inter complex communicator.

“Attention—All board members report immediately to the conference room. A top priority meeting will begin in 10 minutes. Out.”

Jeremy left the control room with two technicians, and strode quickly down the hall. The adrenalin began to flow in his veins for the first time in years. Though his blindness deprived him of the keenest expression of a quickened heart, his bold steps through the darkened halls which had been his home for fifteen years, portrayed his daring and bold intentions, as they were sparked into action. When he reached the room, James was already there, working with the computer terminal on the table.

“We are ready,” he lisped. “Everything is prepared-- we only need to hear from Johnny.

“Good” said Jeremy. “Let’s wait for the others.” Soon Marie entered, followed closely by Willoughby and Kerenyi.

“We are all here?” asked Jeremy.

“Yes,” said Marie.

“Then I’ll begin.” Jeremy stood up from his position _ at the head of the table. “I have received word from Johnny, just 10 minutes ago. He will implement the sonic device in exactly 3 hours from the time of his call.”

“What about Blake?” Marie couldn’t contain herself.

“He is with Johnny, and four of his outfit. The rest of his men are waiting at Objective 17.” There was immediate applause and exited murmuring. “Thank god!” gasped Marie.

“Now,” said Jeremy in a commanding tone, “I need to take a check on our operations. Kerenyi, report on your preparations.”

“I have handpicked three men to help us gain entrance to the computer room.” the youthful Slav responded, “Another thirty will wait one mile from the complex, and will move on the entire complex shortly before the satellite emits the sonic waves. They should arrive immediately after the confusion begins, at which time they will seize the main floor of the complex where Spurion and the archangels are.”

“Good” said Jeremy. “James?”

“I have been studying the information Marie has given me on the ICCE computer system. It is sketchy, because she doesn’t have much training, but I believe I can decipher the system in a short time. Also, I have word that the ear muffs with built in receivers which I designed are ready, and that they are successful in prohibiting the sonic waves, while allowing communication between the men. They can be distributed immediately.”

“Good,” said Jeremy, “and you, Marie?”

“I know the way to the emergency access door in the back of the complex. There is a tunnel several dozen yards from the complex, which descends to the 5th floor. The computer center is on the 8th floor down. It is likely to be guarded, since Spurion is worried about my disappearance but perhaps not.”

“O.K., said Jeremy, “Willoughby?“.

“I’ve prepared a device which should desensitize the alarm system at the tunnel, and also at the computer center. I am unable to go myself, but I have given the device to James, who is more than capable.

Willoughby dropped his head and looked at the table. He and Jeremy were in great emotional pain, because they could not actively participate in the revolution they had started fifteen years ago, which took their health and the lives of their friends.

“Thank you,” said Jeremy, sensitive to Willoughby’s mood, “Thank you all, and we shall separate to begin our respective preparations immediately. Kerenyi will lead our first six into the computer center exactly twenty minutes before the satellite emits the sonic waves, and reach the center 10 minutes before the waves. You are dismissed immediately after our closing prayer.”

The five bowed their heads and Jeremy prayed for their success. Marie added a benediction for those who died for MUSIC’s cause, which was for a Christian world, after which the group split up in silence, each knowing exactly what to do.

Marie went back to her chamber, as did the others, to prepare for the venture. She had a sense of confusion, almost more in her emotions than in her mind. Of course she knew that what she was doing was the right thing. Her husband died in the cause, as had many others, and she had thought that this time would come someday, though she was surprised by the suddenness of the revolution soon to be. ICCE had been her home for forty years, and her husband had originally supported the organization in his dream for a peaceful, nonviolent, spiritual world, before the stun wars and the slowly deteriorating state of soulless tyranny.

She sat at a dresser and looked into the mirror. Her aging face was still handsome, and though it had some fairly deeply etched lines, they carried no hint of resignation or a patterned, post youth life. She smiled as broadly as she could, and when she did, she always seemed to smile even broader the next time. Yes, she was ready. She jumped up from the chair and began to get the few things she needed, and changed to as comfortable an outfit she could wear, to allow for free movement. Soon she was off down the hall to the garage, where they would ride out to their destination.

James, Kerenyi, Marie, and the three men chosen to accompany them formed a small, silent group. Marie and Kerenyi took one sonic car, and the others doubled up to form a squad of three cars. Willoughby and Jeremy inspected the vehicles and their occupants quickly and quietly. For a moment everyone sat or stood patiently. “Are they ready, Willoughby?” asked Jeremy.

“Yes sir, everything’s AOK,” came the reply. Jeremy smiled, and raised his fist and pointed his thumb to the sky. Immediately the engines whirred and hummed, the occupants put their thumbs up, and the: little cars zipped one by one into a tunnel. Soon a giant trap door opened on the nukescape surface, and the three cars shot out at a forty five degree angle into the air, and leveled out about 100 feet above the ground. The engines made a slight humming noise, but were otherwise quiet. They would be followed shortly by the main force.

It was not long before they landed in the dusty grey nukescape about a mile outside the main ICCE complex. They got out and parked the cars behind a large grouping of - slag like stones, and covered them with a grey tarp. They then proceeded quietly, Marie not leading but directing, to a spot near the complex, where they paused, since they were in sight of the buildings. No one appeared to be near the entrance, which Marie pointed out to be about thirty yards from where they were hiding among the rocks. The tunnel door was on open ground, though it was well camouflaged. It was nearly sunset, however, and it would be dusk when they would make their move, though the complex would be fairly well lighted in most places.

The small crew huddled anxiously together, near to where they were soon to enter a one way tunnel. It was only about an hour, before the last bit of sun was swallowed up by the horizon, and a red, radiating glow settled on the left. Kerenyi nodded to the others, who unanimously took a deep breath, and sprinted out low onto the little plain, their bodies silhouetted a perfect black against the deep red sunset. Kerenyi le, Marie was second, and they were followed single file by James and the others. They reached the tunnel entrance in a few seconds. Kerenyi at first glided just right of it, but Marie hissed, and stopped, looking over it. James came right behind, carrying a specially constructed steel bar with a locking hook device on the end. The little group was now all huddled around in a dark circle, as James and the three men managed to insert the hook, and with a few quick and powerful heaves ripped the small trap door up and completely off its hinges. Quick as a cat, Kerenyi straddled the opening with his arms, tucked his legs into the dark hole and dropped out of sight. Once down, he flicked on a small light he had kept on his belt and signaled the others to come down, the dark silhouettes disappearing one by one, as though the earth were swallowing them up. They were soon all safely into the tunnel, each with a small light. They inched forward down the tunnel, built in a cylindrical steel shape with a flat but narrow floor. Marie heard someone behind her kick up a pebble, and everyone paused for a moment as the echo reverberated. “Like rats when a big cat’s around,” Marie thought to herself.

They soon continued, and in a few minutes arrived to a full sized door, which Marie knew opened up into a stair well just below the 5th floor. Kerenyi waved to James, who passed forward a tiny pair of wire cutters. Kerenyi briefly inspected the door, and locating the emergency fire alarm, which triggered should there be a fire or major disturbance in the complex and the emergency exit were used. He reached in and quickly and neatly snipped a wire. He then took a small pick, built by Willoughby at MUSIC just for the purpose, and spring the latch. The door slowly swung open, and Kerenyi lithely stepped out into the brightly lit stair well. Marie, James, and the others slipped into the hall behind them. Hardly anyone used the stairs, since the elevators were so efficient, and there were so many levels.

When they were all set, they quickly descended the stairs to the eighth level, where they stopped and listened. Kerenyi put his ear to the door, and then they slipped, once again one by one, through the door into the corridor. About half way into the corridor a female technician spotted them, but before she could scream, Kerenyi pulled his stun ray out and knocked her to the floor. He immediately sprinted to where she lay, and pulled her around the corner out of sight into an entrance way to a room, which was, fortunately, unoccupied Kerenyi waved to the others, who quickly slipped down the hall, ducking into the room. Marie looked at the girl who had been stunned. It was Lana! Though she was a spy for MUSIC, she had not known of the attack; yet again, it was good that Kerenyi had stunned her, as she may have cried out in surprise. If the blow her head had suffered when she hit the floor was not serious, she would be all right. Marie cradled her head, looked at her face. Blood trickled down her arm. Kerenyi took Marie’s shoulder. She looked up, and the urgency in his eyes told her that she had to move, and right then. She gently laid Lana down, and followed the others out. She was last now, but they all knew now where the computer room was. All they had to do was to get to the end of the hall before any alarms could be pulled. Hopefully, no one would see them.

They reached the double doors to the room, and Kerenyi burst in, stun ready. There were only two technicians, and one reached for a lever, but Kerenyi fired a quick blast, and the man fell, shuddering with his arm outstretched. The other technician at first surprised, but now seeing the situation hopeless stood motionless as the rest of MUSIC’s s mall band burst into the room.

“Who are YOU?” asked the technician.

“Never mind” snapped Kerenyi. “James? Let’s get started.”

“Yes” lisped James as he strode in long steps to the center terminal where the master key board was located. He leaned his tall figure over it and stared for several minutes. The room was completely silent. The three men who followed Marie, Kerenyi, and James into the room had not made a sound from the beginning of the mission. They now stood apart from each other, one by the door which was now closed and locked, the other two on each side of the room.

Marie stood isolated in a corner, watching Kerenyi and James study the computer, attempting to find the code keys to turn off the alarm systems, and hopefully to the satellite guidance system, so that it could be locked, and if necessary guided to the proper path so that the stun ray could be directed onto the complex from above, implementing the sonic conversion device, which, hopefully, Johnny and Blake will have installed on the satellite itself from the hijacked shuttle.

Marie had a very uneasy feeling, as her stomach fluttered at the thought of the several parts of the plan which could go awry. In the back of her mind, Spurion’s crazed eyes and sputtering fury reminded her of the certain consequences should they fail.

“Do you know the exact coordinates, Johnny?” Blake was concerned about the mission. His sense of leadership and being part of a winning game was taking over.

“Well,” said Johnny, “I think so. Nothin is for 100% sure from here on in to home. But we don’t have time to worry. The satellite should be comin’ up in about two minutes. In fact, there it is on the radar screen.” Johnny pointed to a small blinking light on ’a square screen in the control board. Johnny quickly pressed several directional switches, including a deceleration lever, as they approached the satellite.

“We’ll try to match her speed exactly,” said Johnny, “and send one of us out on a wire to fit the sonic device in. You’ll find the suits behind that panel. Johnny pointed tom a large square door at the back of the cabin. _lake turned and nodded from his co-pilot’s seat to the men at the back of the cabin.

- Two of them popped the door open and pulled out 3 suits. Johnny would go out while slake and another crewman would suit up and be ready should anything go wrong. They were soon able to maneuver the§ shuttle so that the satellite appeared on the starboard viewing screen. It was a large round ball roughly the size of the shuttle with several “arms” extended in different directions. Johnny locked in on the speed and orbit ratio of the satellite, until it appeared to be motionless in the viewing screen.

“We have it,” said Johnny. “It’s only about 10 meters from us, and our lifelines are about 30 meters long. I’ll get ready to go out.”

He left the control board locked and went to a small travel bag where he extracted a camera-like device, which he placed near the exit chamber. With the assistance of 2 of the crewmen, he suited up, walked to the chamber, and picked up the sonic device. Blake pulled a lever, the door slid aside, and Johnny ambled into the pressure chamber. There was now only twenty seven minutes to go before the planned attack back at the ICCE complex, the success of which depended heavily on the placement and operation of the device. Blake said nothing to Johnny, not wishing to hurry an extremely hazardous and delicate operation. Soon Johnny’s body appeared in the viewing screen, as he had shoved off the side of the shuttle and was now drifting directly toward the satellite. Suddenly one of the ‘arms’ of the satellite shifted, striking Johnny as he approached square in the back. The blow sent him tumbling head over heels out of the picture, as Blake and the crew were in shock at the suddenness and swiftness of the blew. They stood still for a moment in the silence, as they waited for Johnny to reappear. He did not. Blake turned the controls over to Fitzgerald, who knew just a little of the operation, as he went into the pressure chamber, quickly affixing his helmet. The crew waited, as Blake made his way alongside of the ship, attached to a second lifeline. Johnny’s body was floating motionlessly out in the space, just at the end of his lifeline. Blake used a small clip to hook himself to an iron safety bar protruding from the shuttle’s side. He slowly reeled Johnny’s body in, hand over hand, until the two were both close by the shuttle’s entry chamber door. “Okay”, Blake said through his microphone, “Let us in.” There was no immediate answer, as the crew inside fumbled around in search of the right lever. The wrong one could be deadly. Blake soon became impatient. “Dammit! Open the hatch!” he barked. Fitzgerald’s voice came on. “We’re not sure which one is the right one, Cap’n.” Blake thought a minute. Time was running out. “It’s the second one on your right by the chamber door,” he said calmly, restraining his anxiety over Johnny’s condition and the success of the mission.

Slowly the door opened in front of Blake. He eased himself inside, pulling Johnny’s body behind. When the chamber was pressurized, the inside door slid open, and the two entered the shuttle, as Johnny collapsed to the floor, with Blake supporting his head. Fitzgerald removed Johnny’s helmet. He was semiconscious. Blake picked up the sonic device and inspected it carefully. Fortunately, N Johnny had wisely fastened it to his belt, or the fate of the mission would have soared off into the void. The device appeared to be unharmed, though Blake couldn’t be sure, since he knew nothing of its operation. Only Johnny knew how to fix it into the satellite properly.

Soon Johnny was coming around, and they sat him up on a box at the corner of the shuttle. “My shoulder,” he gasped. “I think it’s broken. I don’t know. . .”

“Try to move your arm,” said Blake. Johnny lifted his left arm a little from his side, but immediately cringed and brought it back to his side. He clutched it with his other arm, and grimaced foully.

“Yeah,” said Blake, “It looks like it might be • broken. Here, let’s strap it up.”

Blake took a thick piece of cord from a supply box and carefully but firmly bound Johnny’s arm to his side, and bent across his mid-section. Johnny grimaced from time to time, but was silent.

“It’s a good thing that suit of yours is tough, kid,” said Fitzgerald from the controls, “or you’d been all done. And Cap’n, the clock here says we’ve only got about 14 minutes left.”

“OK,” said Blake, finishing the tie on Johnny’s arm. The thickness of the suit provided the - necessary padding to keep the cord from cutting off the blood flow.

“How soon will you be ready to go?” Blake asked Johnny looking into his eyes.

“In a minute,” came the reply. Johnny tried to stand as he was helped up by Blake He walked a few steps and shook his head. It seemed he was nearly ready, though obviously in great pain. The whole crew was anxious, with the fate of MUSIC down on the earth on everyone’s minds. After a few minutes, a cup of coffee and a brief discussion, it was decided that Blake would accompany Johnny in another attempt. They suited up again and entered the chamber with about eight minutes left on the clock.

In the meantime, the main attack force was just preparing to leave their camp one mile from the ICCE complex. The group was led by a man named Johnson, who was tall and well-built with a stern face, with a hard square jaw. He signaled to all his men to fix their headphones and march. The little group set out 5 abreast and six deep with Johnson at the head, walking at a brisk pace with the hopes that the complex would be in disorder as they arrive, and that their chief duty would be to seize the Archangels, Spurion, and the guards, while the inside group would have complete control of the computer room.

They were well conditioned, so the mile march at a quick pace was effortless for them, but when they reached a spot in the rocks just outside the complex, everything was quiet. There were a couple of guards inspecting the vent where Marie and her group had entered. Johnson signaled a halt, and watched as the guards were soon joined by about ten others, who began to descend into the tunnel. When they were down and out of sight below the surface, Johnson signaled to five of his own men, who followed him quickly and quietly to the entrance of the tunnel to see if the guards had gone all the way into the complex. The rest of the MUSIC’s main force were to wait in the rocks for a signal from Johnson through the headphone, or for the confusion to begin, when they could move to the front doors and cover the garage.

Inside the complex, James thought he had solved the code, and was ready to push the button which would theoretically activate the stun ray on the above orbiting satellite, which was to be converted to a sonic wave by Blake and Johnny, so that a blast of pure sound would render the complex and its vehicles completely helpless and out of control. The little group put their headphones on, and James pressed the button. Nothing happened. The technicians were unaffected and stood calmly, not knowing what to expect.

“Something’s gone wrong,” said Kerenyi.

“Maybe they haven’t got the device in place yet,” said Marie.

Suddenly the whirr of stun blasts and shouting was heard outside in the hall.

“It’s started,” said James, “We’ve been discovered, and the attack has begun. We’ll be swamped by guards in a minute, if we don’t stop them.”

Kerenyi opened the door and looked into the hall. Johnson and his men were at one end of the hall exchanging fire with the guards at the opposite end. James had turned off the alarm system at the computer terminal, but the guards had assuredly sent for help, and the fire would attract more guards in a few minutes. Kerenyi closed the door tightly, realizing that they were trapped. It seemed that either the sonic device did not work, or something had happened to Johnny and Blake. The six all looked at each other, looking for assurance from somebody that everything was all right. Marie looked the firmest, but probably felt the worst. She walked over to the computer key board near James and stared at all the little colored buttons and code letters, but understood none of it. She looked at James and calmly said, “Try again.”