Labyrinth
Chapter III
Malcolm's analysis of the walls of the room he was trapped in had been painstakingly slow. But as he had felt his way along, he was facing the room, and at one point, about halfway along a wall, his eyes thought they had picked up something. Like a sparkle. Or a laser-sight. He wasn't sure.
He instinctively ducked as he saw it, in case someone was targeting him with a laser-sight. When nothing happened, he stood up again, slowly, to see if he could see it again. He had to move his head a little, but then his eyes picked it up again. Only when he was in the correct position could he see it, as it didn't move. He was nearly on tiptoes to see it. It looked like a pair of eyes staring at him- two tiny indistinct red sparkles on what he thought was the opposite wall.
Now he thought he knew the layout of the room, he strode forth purposefully, not letting the 'eyes' out of his sight until he got to the other side.
He lost them, so he took a step back to see them again, and there they were- in the wall, but you couldn't see them from directly below. They were above his head by about a foot. He reached up to touch them- they felt like cut gemstones.
He was balancing on his tiptoes still until he lost his balance, and as he did, his left hand fell slightly dragging over the edge of the stone.
It turned in it's socket and suddenly did indeed become a red laser-sight, and was as bright as one too. Malcolm looked at it, and followed the light across the room. The light hit the wall opposite.
He looked back and twisted it again, to see if it would change further. It went only from a dim sparkle to the beam of light, so he did the same to the other 'eye' and it also became a bright red beam.
His eyes followed both of the beams to the other side of the wall. He was a little confused- they didn't seem to do anything, but just point to the opposite wall.
An idea suddenly occurred to him. He put his hands up in the air so that the two beams were on each hand, and he walked to where they were beaming- the opposite wall. The light beams were just above his wrists as he stood on tiptoe, and when he got to the centre of the room, his fingertips caught on something. Ah hah! He looked up, although he wasn't sure why as apart from the beams of light, it was still definitely pitch black in there. But his fingers curled around whatever the thing was- it was round like a disk, and suspended by something metallic. It also moved on an axis, so he spun the edge he was holding downwards towards his head.
The laser beams suddenly caught it and were beamed on to the wall above them.
So it's a mirror then, Malcolm realised, his excitement growing at the mystery, though it didn't even come close to piercing the alarm he felt at having suddenly appeared here with no knowledge and without knowing whether everyone else who had been with him on the Bridge was safe or not.
He slowly moved the mirror, directing the beams wherever he wanted them to be. He realised that the ceiling was quite high, probably about two and a half times his height.
Just then, the beams reflected from the mirror caught something. Malcolm focussed the beams on whatever it was- it was some kind of sensor.
While he was trying to work out what it was, the the room started to fill with light. Malcolm moved the beams away from the sensor and the blackness came back, so he returned them and the light filled the room again.
He blinked as his eyes adjusted and for the first time in however long he'd been there for, he saw his room.
The room was a yellowy stone, the floor covered in a film of dust or fine sand. He was indeed in a square room, but the ceiling was high- a bit higher than he'd guessed.
What was the most revealing though was the platforms sticking out of the sides of the walls- starting at just above his head height and spiralling around the walls going upwards towards a small doorway in the ceiling itself.
Malcolm dropped his hands from the mirror which was suspended from a brass-looking pole in the middle of the ceiling, and craned his neck to look at it at the stairs and door- it reminded him of an Escher drawing.
Before he set out to the doorway though, he looked down at himself, assessing his personal situation. He was still wearing his uniform and was as fit and healthy as he had been on the Bridge.
With his danger sense satiated for the moment, he set off, jumping at the first step like a monkey bar and pulling himself up. He stood on it, testing the sturdiness. Once satisfied, he walked up the steps, having to crawl up them as he reached the top, and he climbed through the door in the ceiling.
