We had just managed to flag down a taxi outside of the stadium elevator when inside the high walls of the stadium, the din of thousands of voices cursing and hollering grew to a roar. The dozens of bag ladies outside Dobrynin's elevator went scurrying and four headed up the elevator as we opened the taxi doors and climbed in, knowing we didn't want to be around when word came back that their fearless leader was down for the count.
"Where to, ladies?" the tiny little man behind the wheel asked unaware of the impending riot.
I slid into the seat behind him, "The rocket port," I said. Then cleared my throat and tried it again in my best falsetto, "The rocket port."
"No," Nikki said from her side of the seat as she slammed the door.
The driver turned around. It was only then that I saw that he was standing on the seat, "Come on ladies, I don't have all day."
Nikki was studying a computer printout she'd produced from her pocket and spoke without looking up, "Take us to the prison. And don't get smart or we'll cut a couple more inches off you."
"OK. OK. No need to get upset," He said. He turned around and grabbed a control stick to shift the vehicle into gear and spun away from the curb.
As we accelerated away from the stadium, I turned to see if anyone was following us. Amid the flurry of bag ladies, no one seemed to be even looking our way. As I watched, a large section of the stadium's plastic siding was hurled to the ground from above by a group of fans. One seemed to have forgotten to let go of it and fell to his death and managed to crush a number of those who were still waiting to buy tickets to a game that wasn't going to be finished due to a lack of power.
I turned around and settled into the seat and--as we jumped up onto the curb to miss a large police riot truck barreling toward the stadium--decided to fasten my seat belt.
Like the driver of the limo, our taxi driver didn't seem concerned about pedestrians. Though he did slow down to let an old man get out of the way, he was quick to explain, "Those old codgers put big dents in my car. Got to be careful."
As if to make up for it, he clipped a monopod, spilling the rider onto the pavement as we passed.
I leaned over and whispered to Nikki, "Why are we going to the prison? That should be where we're trying not to go."
She handed me the sheet.
"Terminate" it read across the top in large letters. The date was...Tomorrow, I decided after a little thought (so much had been going on, it was hard to keep track of the days). I read the list of names that didn't mean much to me. Then the names started to ring bells. Scientists. A whole list that was a who's who of the scientific community. And then one name stuck out: A member of my anti-gravity research team.
"Where'd you get this?"
"From Dobrynin's computer while our press releases were uploading into the broadcast system."
I studied the list. If one team member has survived the attempts to hide our secret, have others? I wondered. The names were in alphabetical order. I started checking up and down the list. All but one of the team and myself were listed.
Then they were still alive.
But not for long if something wasn't done.
"Couldn't you have released them through the computer?"
Nikki shook her head, " I tried. But such an order needs to have personal authorization."
"Dobrynin's personal authorization?"
"None other. If we'd had the suggestion drug to use on him. But when he caused me to fall and break the vial... Let's just say I didn't think he looked like he'd be interested in doing that voluntarily last time I saw him."
"OK. But... Do you have a plan?"
"No. I figured you could come up with something."
"Yeah, right. We'll just wing it. Our best laid plans don't seem to be having such a great track record these days anyway."
"I'd say you're doing pretty well so far. You took us into the jaws of death and we got back out again. Look here," Nikki pointed at a name on the list. "Recognize her name?"
I shook my head.
"That just happens to be one of the top bot designers in this hemisphere. Her name is what caught my eye when I happened to see the list by the computer."
"Executing these people must be Dobrynin's way of helping to keep things stagnant." I shook my head.
"Here it is," the driver said as he screeched to a halt and threw us up against the back of his seat.
"What do you think?" Nikki asked. " It doesn't look too formidable."
I looked at the small concrete archway of the prison. The entrance looked like it was all door and no building. It didn't look big. "We're here. Let's see if we can do something."
We got out.
"Hey. How about my pay?"
Nikki clicked off the safety of her shotgun and pointed it in the driver's direction. "Wait here."
"Yes, ma'am," the short driver said with a gulp.
"And don't try any tricks. We have your license number and will track you down if you leave."
The tiny man tried to speak but only managed another gulp.
"Just a minute," I said. "We'll be needing, uh," I looked at the list and did some quick figuring, "some more transportation if we succeed." I turned toward the driver, "Get ten more taxis here. Get them here in a hurry."
"Uh. Well--"
"Dobrynin will pay ten times the normal fares," I lied.
"OK, they'll be here in a couple of minutes," he said grabbing his talkie.
Nothing like greed, I thought. At the same time I felt guilty. I decided that if I got out of the prison after entering it during this time of insanity, I'd get him some sort of extra pay after this was all over. In his own way, this little person was as much a victim of Dobrynin's crimes as we were.
Nikki and I ran across the long gray plastic walk leading to the prison entrance which was built into the concrete dike that ringed Miami.
"Replace the stun shells with standard flechettes," I told Nikki. "The delay it takes before the stun shells take effect could get us killed."
"Yeah, that's a good idea. I'm about out of the special shells, anyway."
I checked my shotgun as she slipped a new magazine into hers. As we stepped on the mantle plate, the huge door opened for us, closing after we enter the glass room inside. A camera swiveled toward us and trained its lasers on us.
"Business?" a voice said.
"We've come to pick up the prisoners for Dobrynin," Nikki said as I stood tongue-tied.
I hoped she knew what she was doing and quietly snapped the safety off my shotgun in case we needed to try to take out the laser.
The door ahead of us opened and we walked forward and stepped into the waiting elevator. As it sank down, I saw why there'd been no prison building to see from the front. The prison was under water.
The clear plastic elevator slowly dropped us one story below the surface of the ocean. We watched as fish performed their acrobatics outside the elevator. Around us, the bottom of the ocean showed a wealth of green life amid the ruins of Old Miami. Though the battering of the waves and the caustic action of the salt water and sea life had taken their toll, it was still possible to make out the streets and blocks that extended out from the prison. Several rusty hulks of cars still stood in the murky streets, as if waiting to again be driven toward the abandoned homes.
Far in the distance, a large sea farm was crawling through the violent, oxygen-rich waves which rolled over the ruins of the city. The farm's surface extended as far as we could see toward the northeast of the prison.
The prison itself extended from the central transparent bubble that the elevator opened into. There were few cells; there were many capital offenses, and punishment was often carried out without a court hearing.
Each cell along the prison hallway was a small dome on the ocean floor, among the decaying ruins, each cell interconnected by clear walk ways laid on the floor of the ocean. As the waves rolled above us, the prison swayed slightly. There seemed to be no artificial lights; light filtered into the area in bright patterns of yellow, green, and blue from the bright shimmering mirrored surface above us where the ocean and air met.
We exited the elevator, our nostrils assaulted by the damp stench of sweat and urine. I looked around, my eyes adjusting to the light and spotted the large desk in the center of the dome. An old man sat behind a small, white plastic desk, his large, sunken eyes inspecting us closely.
"What prisoners are you talking about?" he said, breaking the quiet of the room.
"We've come to pick up these prisoners," Nikki said, sliding the paper we'd brought with us.
He looked at the paper without picking it up then frowned making more wrinkles on his leathery face. He punched a button on the desk top and inspected the display of names that sprang onto the monitor in front of him.
He shook his head, snapped the display off, and then rubbed a hand over his bald head. "Why can't you people get things straight. I got the order to release these people just a while ago and--as are my orders--requested the written authorization. And never got it. You'll have to wait until I get it."
"It was sent over ten minutes ago," Nikki lied.
"Let me call," he removed a talkie from the surface of the desk where it had appeared to be part of the flat surface. He spoke his number then listened a moment. "Nothing," he said. "What in the world's going on at central? Have the riots spread that far?"
I didn't wait around any more. I slapped him up the side of the head with the barrel of my shotgun and he fell over his desk top in a really fine Rip van Winkle imitation.
"A little hasty" Nikki suggested. "You do have a plan, right?"
I shrugged.
"I was hoping you had an idea when you tucked him in."
"It seemed like the thing to do. Let's see if we can get into the cells."
We ran toward the metal door leading to the prison cells. I dilated it open and came face to face with a bag lady.
She looked at me a moment, then stared past me at the comatose warden. I knew she saw the warden's body and she knew I knew. We both pulled up our weapons at the same instant and fired. I missed and hers connected.
Her gun was of a type I'd never seen before: a short-barreled hand gun with a heavy, lead-pellet-filled projectile about ten centimeters across. The huge slug caught me in the chest and knocked the wind out of me, causing me to keel over as I tried to breathe. Only the ballistic armor incorporated into the bag lady outfit kept me from greater harm.
The bag lady quickly tried to reload her weapon as Nikki jumped past me and fired; Nikki's shot missed. Rising to my knees, I fired again.
This time I connected with the lethal flechette load of the shotgun. The bag lady fell with a large, fist-sized hole in her chest.
I gasped for air a moment and stood up. The first thing that captured my attention was the sound of water.
"What?" I said.
"That's why she had such an ineffective weapon," Nikki said, pointing to a the streams of water gushing through the plastic of the hallway. "Anything else is too dangerous. Your first flechette load as well as mine punctured the plastic walls."
"Damn. I wonder if it will hold up?"
As if to answer my question, a large chunk of plastic broke off from one of the tiny streams of water and a torrent of water gushed in. Moments later, the other hole widened to admit more water.
"Come on," I said, "We don't have much time. We've got to get the prisoners out of here or they'll all drown."
We splashed down the passage to the fork in the hallway, " I'll take the left," Nikki said.
I dashed down the right. I was glad to see that most of the cells were empty. I stopped at the first occupied cell I came to. I tried to open it. It appeared to have an electric lock of some type. I heard a shot down the hall. Trouble?
"You OK Nikki?" I yelled over the racket the water was making.
"Blasted the lock," Nikki yelled.
Might as well try it, I thought. I motioned the young man inside the cell to stand back and placed the muzzle of the shotgun on the plastic lock while trying to aim downward so any flechettes that went through the lock wouldn't harm the prisoner or puncture the plastic bubble of his cell.
I pulled the trigger and the lock exploded apart. My ears rang.
"Get going," I told him as I pushed the heavy plastic door back, "the prison is flooding."
He didn't need any prompting. He scooped up a small bag of belongings now floating on the rising water and jumped out of the cell and sloshed toward the elevator.
The water was now ankle deep. I ran to the next cells and had soon blasted eight more open freeing three men and two women (none of whom I knew) and also freeing three of my team members who--to my surprise--didn't recognize me. Then I remembered my bag lady get up. I didn't take time for reunions but just ordered them to the door and hoped they didn't try to attack me since I looked like one of the old hags they had undoubtedly learned to hate.
That completed the release of everyone on the wing. The water was now knee deep and rising rapidly.
I half waded, half swam toward the fork. "Nikki, you almost finished?"
She came splashing up with two bedraggled women, "Yeah. That's it. Let's get out of here."
We made our way to the main chamber. I looked through the clear dome and water at the load of prisoners getting out of the elevator above us. I scooped up the little warden who was still draped across his desk, the water lapping at its top. The elevator was coming back down for the five of us when the power went off.
The water was chest high and the elevator was frozen half way down.
"We'll never get out," one of the women said.
And it looked like she was right.