The fire alarm continued to moan shrilly. Buzz leapt out of his bed like an overstrung spring. Convalescent perhaps, but did the ranger sense take minor details in account when a whole swarm of innocent civilians might be endangered? The three-bedded ward where he had been accommodated, half-dark since the common hours of quietude had fallen, was empty excluding the Captain. He collected his slippers and the few personal possessions he had in the nightstand's top drawer, and half-limping scrambled out. Outside in the hallway, a few better-conditioned, yet confused-looking patients in their pajamas were peering hither and thither in the hope of spotting a nurse.
In situations like this, Lightyear's cool rational determination reached its summit. "Order around, those able to walk on their own, proceed to the fire escape immediately! It's down this corridor, in the left, follow the green signs. Don't waste your time, we don't know what this is about. It may be a false alarm, but you never know. Now, go, go, go!" he shouted with his long-carrying baritone voice, gesticulating towards the exits. And luckily, the custodians and medical staff on nightshift were beginning to swarm out of various doors, thus leaving the man free to rush away and find the Kalevan.
From the victims of the mirror universe foe, only he and Yoka remained in this hospital. Mira had lodged a few rooms apart from the Emperor's son, but had left earlier the same day. Star Command had transferred her all the way to Rhizome on a longer sick leave. Even though the planet was such a lair of flower-power hippies, its climate and spas were ideal to soothe down her sudden outbreak of asthma. Also Booster, still teetering in a rather dangerous state, was gone. It had appeared that this town's medical wonders were not quite intended for such half-dinosaurian anatomy, hence making a shift to Capital Planet obligatory.
Lightyear was very aware that he should have dashed out instead of zooming along the initially rather packed aisles. Undoubtedly his wife was in good hands, mayhap already brought out by some nurse. Nonetheless, it was the commonplace space ranger valor pounding in his scull again. A menace, a challenge was facing him: the damsel was in distress and needed the valiant knight to slay the icky dragon. And how he perfectly forgot the fact that Yoka-hanen was no puny blonde poppet who fainted when seeing a mouse... Moreover, if there had been such a fantasy freak-out, he would have probably discovered the wannabe-Xena sitting on top of a former dragon, swinging her huge crossbow and singing some Gibberish warrior song with a broad grin. Now, however, neither the hubby nor the squaw was in the condition of dragonslaying, so the situation was rather different.
Unbuttoned pajama shirt billowing out behind him, other slipper lost somewhere amidst the tumult, he was reaching the psychiatric ward. But Buzz' worries melted there and then; some custodian was already carting the wheelchair-bound Indian out. Despite the somewhat heavy tranquillizers used to cancel out the furthermore lingering agitation, she seemed very alert and aware that something had broken this building's peace. Attempting to dart up, she enquired ceaselessly with an irritable tone,
"Wat ees? Onko syttynyt sota taivon tantereilla, kuun ja taehtien kotikonnuilla? Miksi soi kimakka sotatorvi? Wheer yu kuljettaa me?"
Ostensibly the nervousness rate was only increased by the fact that there was no familiar face around her. Only this shrill 'war-trumpet', as she called the fire alarm's brawl, reverberating among the anarchy. It was always a perturbing experience to remain alone in this confusing welkin, where everything quarreled with the common sense and every following meter was littered with perplexing surprises. The hauler kept a silent and woody face, which however quite did not cover the annoyance towards this hyperactive asker, whose broken accent allowed him to understand maybe one word in two sentences.
"I'll take it from here." Lightyear almost jostled the male aside, grabbing the wheelchair's handles.
She turned her open-mouthed gaze at him. Proud Crescent. And seemingly the real one, since this one had no sparkles of death in his eyes. And was not the evil brother tied into the ice grotto of Manala, not having the power to escape? Even though there was no thorough confidence towards the space ranger after the impersonator inferno, at least it was a familiar countenance near her. Who probably would also clarify that what the heck was wrong over here.
"Hey--!" the caretaker snapped. But before the custodian grabbed Buzz' collars in order to demand what rights he had for stealing patients that way, he shoved an Universe Protection Unit ID card under the man's schnoz.
"Star Command personnel, Captain Lightyear. You go back to help the others, son."
And truth to be told, the warden was more than happy to leave that jittery Lady Gobbledygook behind. And, as Buzz began dragging the seat onwards in this sea of stir, she repeated every single question that had vexed the previous helper. But he did not become exasperated, moreover tried his best without a translator to explain that they were not going to be grilled if this was a real emergency.
One of the unfortunate side effects of Yoka's imprisonment had been the forgetting of some preliminary English expressions. And perhaps it had partly been intentional. Withering tied-up in the cell, her mind had squeezed itself inside a cocoon of stupor, willing to believe that this all was just a restless night's demonic reverie, and she would soon awaken into a brisk frost morning in her teepee... Proud Crescent and all this madness never even existing. Even now the Indian could not be fully assured whether the present was real or just another continuation of that same nightmare... all winding up in that blue shimmering cell once more. This semi-conscious state was mostly the fault of the tranquillizers, which made the thinking incoherent and slightly delirious. Yet... something in his voice clang in a manner that boosted up the feeble assurance that after all, everything might end up okay.
When the couple reached the emergency exit and the down-going outdoors ramps, the Captain noticed that his hurrying was not in vain. A red turbulence was reigning over the first floor of the wing stretching most towards the lake. In addition, the fire was spreading with considerable speed, and probably would soon usurp the level above. His cranial cogwheels were doing simultaneous pondering while limping down the rattling metal ramp and preventing the wheelchair from rolling down on its own. This ward was sited in the sixth floor, and the drop down was not measured in nanoscales. But the fire's source... Lightyear had been in that very wing, though in the underground compartments. Morbid perhaps, but he had fairly recently taken her down there to see how Evil Buzz' corpse was sealed in a semi-transparent Cryo-chamber, before today's scheduled autopsy. He had presumed that if she re-confronted the fact that there were two identical Lightyears co-existing, the understanding would be founded on stone basis. After all, she had been very phlegmatic during the first sight of the dead one.
Yet, where could that fire possibly have started from...? Something in this simple notion was making his eyes narrow. An accidental case, most probably, but why was his ranger sense giving this irritating twirp in his subconscious? Why such a disaster just today and there...?
Indeed, it was a horrible calamity concerning the hospital. Many patients were glued to their beds and attached even tighter to tubes or life-supporting machinery. Tiny frail creatures in incubators, withered individuals waiting for crucial surgical treatments... Destroyed organs could be restored with cyberbiotic replacements these days, but even still there were the waiting times before one would achieve new health... Thus, it was impossible even to get everyone of the more permanent lodgers out of the edifices. Maybe endeavor moving them into different wards from the way of the fire, but not entirely out in such a little time. Where this all would lead, only the following minutes would show...
The pong of smoke suffocated the summer night's sweetish fragrance under it, the trill of nocturnal birds jostled aside by the high-pitched fire engine sirens. Several hovercrafts were soaring towards the roaring nest of flames. Down on the yard, part of the nightshift staff were directing the small horde of able-to-walk patients that so far had been evacuated from the building from the way of the arriving firefighters. Somewhere a window shattered under the intense heat, showering shards of glass to glimmer in the dewy grass.
Buzz was reaching the joint between the fourth and third floor ramps, stomping onwards as quickly as the stream of rather sluggishly advancing multitude of limping and moaning evacuees allowed. It seemed that the hospital had no crew enough to help every ill one in need, whereas the firemen had barely descended from their ships. Someone was throwing up over the ramp's safety fence, some bright optimist in the right of him kept wailing 'We're all gonna die! We're all gonna die!' in a shrieking tone.
"No citizen is going to be harmed, if we keep in order and move on!" he retorted, becoming for a second oblivious of what was occurring in the left. A hysteric man crashed through the door leading to the third floor's ward. Stumbling, the panicky one fell hard against Lightyear's back, which resulted in him getting knocked over and ending up onto the same wheelchair with Yoka, his legs sticking out over the backrest. Instantaneously, the seat became uncontrolled, and started rolling down the slope with an increasing speed. The thunderstruck crowd absconded out of the way as fast as possible, putting the previously semi-calm fire escape into utter pandemonium. And if there had not been screams enough already, now a positive screech choir took over the quarters.
"AIIIEEEEHHHAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" the duo added their portion to the noise. Unfortunately Buzz was in such a tangled position that 'jumping off' did not even belong to the situation's vocabulary. And only a few meters ahead was the landing where the ramp did an U-turn and began descending towards the second floor. Hence, if nobody was going to tame that berserk-gone piece of invalid furniture, it most likely would smash against the metallic rail and send the space ranger flying over it.
Nonetheless, seemingly a doze of tranquillizers was not enough to smother the quick reflexes that had been developed during tens of years of hunting. Additionally, these controlled hospital medics were nowhere near the nasty Karnian beast sedative applied in the dungeons. Even though Yoka was in a very awkward position somewhere under Buzz' over 100-kilogram bulk, her sinewy hands found the manual handlebars. They were extremely hard to wrench under this considerable weight, but she nonetheless grabbed them hard, and forced the haywire wheelchair to make a violent 360-degree turn perhaps half a meter before the steep's end. Still, it had speed enough left to rumble onto the next slope. Down again they speeded, the Kalevan twisting and turning the bars.
Suddenly, the jeopardy had been clothed with the garments of a thrilling game. Enough increase in adrenaline, and the wild and rather daredevil girl seemed completely losing the sense of danger. Whereas her mate was yawling with horror, she let the old hunting cry echo in the air, mouth in an ear-to-ear grin as metal banged and clattered, the chair whizzing along and wobbling dangerously in the verge of keeling over. After two more U-turns, the whole mess reached the ground. It consumed its last kinetic energy by storming on the pavement, finally hitting the side of a decorative fountain. And here, Buzz received his change to flit. In a graceful semicircle, he fell into the water with an almighty splash. And when the soaked man clambered out of the pool, Yoka-hanen was absolutely exited, clapping her hands and howling with laughter. Considering the seat's now very wrenched and misshapen condition, it was rather miraculous that it did not shatter into pieces like a house of cards under her, but still subsisted in an upright position. In the background, a pair of custodians was running towards them to lend a helping hand.
"Craters. You haven't changed a bit." Lightyear shook his head with a simper, brushing some wet locks from over his eyes, "Who the jumping Jupiter tied you in a wheelchair anyway? I bet you could've walked finely on your own." Despite the occasion's arrant foolishness, he was happier than in days, seeing now that the old spirit in her had not perished. The same half-crazy vigor he first had loathed, but learned to love through error and humility.
And so, the ramp racers rejoined the increasing crowd of evacuees, which were being transferred to some temporary shelter. The firefighters had started clearing out the flame squall, spraying the inferno with oxygen-smothering foams. Sirens wailed and blinked, the night's ethereal magic long lost gone...
...and still, the lake behind the panorama was pastoral, its surface barely rippling in the pools of pale moonlight. On a lonely island, the ruins of the Baryon Castle stretched themselves towards the stars, their sharp towers greeting those nightly friends. The jungles of rush bordering the shore stood immovable. As the heavenly lanterns could not reflect their silvery rays from them, they remained as dull, black blotches plaguing the water that looked almost like liquid glass in its serenity. And yet... when carefully scrutinized, one of these murky shallow forests did not appear so dead after all. Something was moving near the thicket's edge, something streamlined and narrow, nonetheless as sackcloth as the background... Slowly it glided onwards, drifting apart from the mainland... a tiny boat with its lights extinguished and for the most part covered with tarpaulins. There and then, a paddle touched the water, pushing the vessel onwards a tad more... Once or twice, the twinkle above flashed back from what could have been the lenses of spectacles.
The night went on, ever deepening and blackening... Soon, the reeds were just as monotonous as before. The boat had been just a wavering guest beside them, now gone, swallowed by the darkness.
Nothing moved in the horizons, except the graying dawn hours later.
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TBC.