Another soul to save

Some thirty minutes later, Mitikas of Keratorion lowered the papers, picked off his glasses and returned them to their designated pocket before he addressed his visitors again.
"This colleague of yours, Dr. Traven of Gerentha, what about him? As I understand it, he was the one who initiated the involvement of the biologists Arlig and Iusa in the first place. Is he and his research accounted for in this case?"

Mitikas' question made Narheda blush; she had to admit that she hadn't given Traven a thought. On the other hand, she hadn't met or even heard from him for months, not since they had been discussing the skeletons from the dig, skeletons which they both had believed to be Elven already back then.
"You're right, I should check upon him," she reached inside her bag for her communicator, but Mitikas laid a hand on her arm.
"Wait! We don't know if he's in any danger yet. Better not draw attention to the hazard."

"You think they've tapped my com?" Narheda felt herself pale. "Because in that case," involuntarily she cast a glance towards the entrance.
"No need to worry, if anyone would be coming here, Serek ought to have warned us already." Mitikas patted the large dog affectionally. "Besides, did you ever mention my name or address over the com?"
"No, you're right," Narheda had to admit with a slight shake of her head. "I'm getting paranoid."
"That's only natural in your situation," Mitikas said as he stood up. "I'm going to gather some expedient possessions, then we shall get going."

"Where to?" Luwan frowned.
"To see Dr. Traven of course," Mitikas said. "And we're lucky because it's Fourthday today."
"Fourthday?" Now it was Narheda's time to frown. "What has the day of the week to do with anything?"
"It's Speaker's Corner on Broadcast Channel 4. And believe me, if we go on air tonight, then there's nothing to stop us. Or the truth about the Elves. Those who make their living out of their cheap orc labour may have to begin thinking again. Besides I am convinced that it was only a question of time before that commodity drained up, Elves or not."

"What, you feared an orc upheaval here in Gondor?" Luwan asked. "Like the one in Isengard?"
"No, not really," Mitikas replied. "After all the orc labourers are so suppressed with hard technology here. Tranquillizer collars with radio transmitters, designer drugs, tazers, you name it. They are thoroughly kept under the heavy boot of control. No, what I believe to be the end of the orc slavery is the general man's conscience. For every year more and more people are beginning to question the way orcs are treated. Haven't you too heard the protests, read the letters to the editors of the main newspapers? Independent Eye had an editorial about it just the other week. There have also been bills in the parliament to stop or at least regulate the usage of orc labour. To give the poor things at least some kind of resemblance of a decent life." Mitikas shrugged. "I've never been the one for large gestures, but in this case even I have been prepared to speak up. I have just lacked a good motif. And now I have one."

"And we have a plan, I suppose?" Luwan asked and Mitikas nodded his head.
"It sounds like we do," Narheda stated.
"Or we'll work one out on the way at least," Mitikas added before he called for his dog and dashed inside of his house again. Then he stopped on the threshold. "Follow me!" he ordered almost sharply. Narheda and Luwan regarded each other in surprise, their host seemed to have taken the lead of this operation so easily!

But Mitikas didn't invite the duo into his home, instead he picked up a large key and opened a steel door on the opposite side of the hallway they had entered through. Narheda's eyes hadn't adjusted to the dusk inside, so she never really got a look at the room which Mitikas urged them through, before they were on the other side of that door, heading down a flight of stairs and into a second hallway. He produced another key and opened a new steel door, this one led to a small closet though. Then he turned to face the scholars.

"Can any of you handle a gun?" he asked.
"So-so," Luwan hesitantly admitted while Narheda kept silent, shaking her head.
"And how well is 'so-so' then?" Mitikas probed further.
"Well, my aim is adequate, and I know how to load and shoot and manage a recoil. I'm better with the hunter's weapons, though, having downed a few games back home in Harnendor, but I doubt I'd be able to kill or even wound another human being with a firearm."

"That will do," Mitikas replied as he started to bring out weapons and ammunition from the closet. "When push comes to show most people tend to push rather than being showed."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Narheda asked.
"That if it's either you or the other guy, you pull that trigger without thinking too much," came Mitikas' dry answer and Narheda had to admit he was right.

Mitikas handed Luwan a pistol and kept a similar for himself, giving the younger man a quick brief of how it worked. Then he handed over a holster as well, and helped Luwan putting it on.
"Hopefully we won't be needing these things at all," he said. "But better safe than sorry. And trust me, I've been sorry enough times to not at least try to stay safe."

Narheda felt she wanted to ask Mitikas about that, at the same time she knew very well that now was hardly the time. Instead she took hold of a large toolbar which their new found ally handed her.
"In here there are some special gadgets, which might be useful," he replied before she even opened her mouth to ask. "Including a scrambler. Means they won't be able to trace us using the signals from our communicators. In case we need to lose pursuers."

"Excellent," Narheda praised. She felt a bit dismayed though, this was happening a bit too fast for her, she hadn't even begun to think of how they should approach Traven of Gerentha. Not to mention trying to get into that broadcast-show. Sure, she knew that Speaker's Corner was an open-for-all arena, but the queues of inclined participants in the airings were often several blocks long, with people lining up for days to get their five minutes of attention. How were they going to get ahead of all of those people? Bribe? And with what money? Finally there was Mitikas himself. He seemed so very odd. A well-phrased, middle aged man living in a rundown house in Ligo with a debonair but slightly peculiar behaviour, and on top of that with access to firearms. How could he have acquired those?

Come to think of it, she had no idea who this man really was save for having a humongous dog and claiming to originate from some distant island. He couldn't be that much older than her, and still he seemed to play his age against them, and to show off tidbits of ideas and knowledge which shouldn't really be there. How did he know Iusa for instance? No, something was peculiar about this man. Nothing she could put a distinct finger upon, but it was the little things that grated at the back of her brain. Things Mitikas had been voicing during their conversation.

Nevertheless, she knew she hadn't much other choice than to follow through with this operation, and try to do her part in making it successful. So she hitched up Mitikas' bag on her shoulder and followed him through another door, which opened up into a large garage with several vehicles in, including a motorbike which would have made her Darik green with envy. But it was naturally not that one they were heading for, but for a sleek, black Javelin with golden swirls painted on the sides, a gilded grille and wheels running on purple-rimmed tyres. A splendor of a vehicle, a king among sports cars.

Mitikas opened up the Javelin with a remote and welcomed them inside. Perhaps not all bad, Narheda thought as she jumped into the passenger's seat and buckled up, the somewhat trailing Luwan having to be content with the back seat. She had always wished to ride a car like this. As Mitikas tapped in his access code and the engine kicked in, the automatic door to the garage slid open and smoothly the vehicle rolled out in the street outside.

This was not Ventoris Street, but a narrower side alley, which seemed to be serving only Mitikas' building and three or four more. Mitikas brought the car in the opposite direction from Ventoris and out on another street and then he took them through the labyrinthine streets of Ligo and up on the Anisti Drive, one of the urban quickways crossing Sarmaltar, partly above the regular streets and partly down in tunnels. Narheda had to admit that she was impressed with the smooth and fast acceleration. The car was soon making 200 trots-per-hour, she could tell by glancing over at the meter, but she hardly felt the speed. Not to mentioning hearing it, since the vehicle was completely fusion powered.

"Where are we going?" Luwan wanted to know. "It seems like you're returning to the university."
"Yes, we have to pick up your colleague Traven," Mitikas said.
"You think he might be in danger?" Narheda asked as she gazed through the darkened window at all the other vehicles which they passed by on the eight-lined quickway. Reality was threatening to overtake her again, still she couldn't help enjoying this ride.
"I'm not sure. Dr. Traven seems to be a kind of sensationalist, perhaps your enemies have simply let him be because of that."

"You mean they see him not as a threat? Unlike us that is?" Narheda glanced sideways at Mitikas, who wasn't taking his eyes off the traffic as he replied.
"No, as a matter of fact I suppose that just because he is something of a sensationalist they have decided against touching him. Because if they did, it would become obvious that there was more to what Traven was saying than just tabloid chit-chat. However one can never be sure, that's why I believe it's necessary to get to your colleague as fast as possible."

0O0O0

Traven had his office at Nysarya Lane, a bit outside the regular Campus area. Mitikas' Javelin came to a halt outside the large and non-descript concrete-and-glass building and the trio were out the vehicle and inside the building within moments.
"Let me talk to Traven," Narheda asked as they crossed the unmanned lobby and walked up to the elevators, Narheda and Luwan's university ID's letting them all in through the automatic gates. "He can be a bit, well, peculiar sometimes."

"You're welcome to address him accordingly," Mitikas bowed slightly in her direction while she pushed the elevator button, calling down the coach. With a chime the pair of doors slid open, showing the narrow compartment of their ride up.
"You think he's there?" Luwan asked. "You think he'll listen?"
"To both questions I answer 'I hope so'," Narheda admitted and pressed the button number three. The doors slid closed and the elevator started to ascend.

Seconds later the elevator stopped, the doors opened and admitted them out in a hallway with an office space behind glass doors. One of those was smashed, a spider web of green spikes meandering outwards from an impact spot roughly in the middle of the glass.
"What can have happened here?" Mitikas asked, sounding more bemused than worried.
"Beats me," Narheda replied and then she tried the doorbell next to the smashed window. Beneath that one, there was a brass tablet reading 'Section of biology' in blocky capital letters.

When there seemed to be no response to her call, Narheda pushed the button again and when still nothing happened, she tried the door. It was open, which surprised her, and she let herself and the men inside. An eerie feeling that they were late overcame her as they walked down the death silent office landscape, their feet barely making a sound against the worn broadloom. The sun was filtered in between closed blinds covering dirty windows and the place felt oddly abandoned for a mid-week afternoon.

"Traven?" Narheda called out questioningly. The only reply she got was from the gulls outside. She tried her colleague's name again as she lead the other two towards a solitary office at the end of the landscape and with the door partly open. Once again she got that same unnerving feeling as she had got when Dr Arlig's office had gone up in flames. The feeling that the enemies had gained upon them in the game once more.

Luwan was reaching for his gun, but Mitikas laid a hand on his arm.
"No need for these things now. If there was someone here wanting to shoot at us, she or he would've done so already."
"But what if there are some of the bad guys here?"
"Then they are probably hiding in one closet or another, holding their breath and wishing we won't smell them."

Mitikas sounded almost as if he was joking and it annoyed Narheda a bit, as she was taken by the seriousness of the situation. But she kept her mouth shut and led the way down towards the office she knew belonged to Traven. When reaching the slightly ajar door, she pushed it fully open, and then she stopped by the threshold, inhaling with shock, as she faced the woman sitting calmly in a tilted back office chair with her high-booted feet propped upon the desk, buffing her nails and with a superior smirk plastered across her face.
"You!" Narheda exclaimed in consternation. "What are you doing here? Where's Traven?"