Aqueous Passage. Krystyna Faroe

our legs. You know what it’s like having long legs cramped up for long periods of time, although some of us don’t have legs long enough to worry about.”

      His gaze travelled to Oak who gave a disgruntled stare back.

      Detroit looked all the more annoyed as he took in the appearance of Oak. “Why is he here? Are you two congenital twins? You are always with one another. Do you sleep in the same bed too?”

      Denver gave a short laugh.

      “Good one Detroit! But you know very well why…he can’t be trusted.” He leaned toward Detroit. “I have to have him in my sight at all times because he seems to worry the others with his strange ways. As you know, when you’re worried you’re much easier to take advantage of, and we don’t want him having the advantage do we Detroit?”

      Detroit grunted back and unwillingly nodded his head in agreement.

      “So, what’s happening?”

      Detroit looked startled again; he drew in a couple of quick breaths and quickly looked around the cargo hold. Oak could read the concern in his mind at not giving away what he was looking for. His worry was that he might accidentally tell them what Rancor was up to. Until finally he concluded that he would say very few words and not get caught out. Oak smiled to himself, he knew he really didn’t stand a chance with him or Denver.

      Denver was patiently smiling at Detroit, all the same knowledge passing through his head. I have this Oak. The message came clearly and Oak gave a quick smile to Denver and quickly hid it before Detroit could notice.

      Denver placed his arm around Detroit’s shoulders and slowly started to walk taking him along too. “You look worried my friend, is there anything I can help you with?”

      Detroit’s mind was frantically whirling, images flashing, hard to discern, difficult to clarify. Oak followed, carefully linked to Detroit’s mind as Denver worked on loosening the locks on the closed doors and clearing the cluttered hallways that lingered there.

      Oak watched Detroit gaze surreptitiously at Denver, he glanced away and back again, repeating the movements over and over, trapped but unable to escape the hold his leader had over him. Entering Detroit’s head he could almost feel the increase of his heartbeat, feel the sweat sliding down his temple, sense the drip as it left the side of his jaw. He watched the angle change in his jaw line; it was tight as he desperately moved it from side to side to find temporary release. Detroit’s mind started to wander as Denver’s conversation moved on; words about the city and what they had left behind, they held no obvious meaning, just a story that droned in his ears until they became white noise behind a new voice that reverberated in his head. The voice belonged to Rancor and held foreboding words.

      Kisin wants to make good use of your leader. His mind reading skills will be invaluable to him, as will his size and strength. He will be a worthy accomplice to the plans that Kisin has but he must not be aware of this. You must never think of what I have just said.

      The grey of Detroit’s mind deepened, shifted to deep tumbled clouds for a moment then a blaze of light tore through everything. Horror overwhelmed Oak; fear that he had revealed what he should not. Oak quickly closed his link to Detroit realizing his panic and not wanting to experience it any further.

      He linked with Denver who had already accessed the words himself. He had halted temporarily in his conversation as Rancor’s words had entered his head but saved himself quickly from Detroit being aware by tripping over a rope and cursing his big feet. He stopped and turned to look directly at Detroit. “What are you looking for?”

      Detroit’s face showed momentary fear then relief when he realized the question was not about what he had just thought.

      “Rancor wants weapons.” He blurted out throwing his gaze violently around the hold. “He thinks there are weapons in this hold and he wants to have control over them.”

      His head flew back to Denver realizing he had told him something he should not. Oak sensed him weighing one secret against the other as he decided it was better that he had let the latter one slip.

      “Why does Rancor think the Aviatilians have weapons? Has Captain Rumello told him?”

      “No! I don’t know. Why are you asking me? I’m only doing what Rancor has told me to do. I don’t know who he talks to and what he talks about. I’m just here to look. I don’t even know what type of weapons I am looking for.”

      His eyes scanned the secured mounds, his face twitched at the sight of the many items that he was expected to detach, look through and re-attach with no obvious sign of disturbance. His job seemed colossal.

      Oak smiled at Detroit’s distress. He deserved it, he would have liked to have been the one causing it, but Rancor would do, it didn’t matter who it was, just the result. He sensed Denver chiding him for his pettiness and he gave a small smile. They needed to leave and discuss what they had learned.

      Denver laid a hand upon Detroit’s shoulder; Detroit’s eyes quickly scanned it with disgust feeling the control that the gesture made in making him the lesser person. “I have to leave Detroit but I wish you luck in your insurmountable task, I do not envy you. Let me know if you find anything.”

      He received no response and didn’t wait for one. Oak knew Denver didn’t care whether he told him or not. His long legs swung around as he gave a quick glance to Oak who followed his actions. They both strode through the narrow gaps, deking down a longer tunnel that took them more directly to the door. Oak had a momentary notion of scorn from Detroit until it changed to frustration at the task before him. They passed through the doorway knowing Detroit would be busy for hours.

      As the door closed Denver turned to Oak. His brow was furrowed, his eyes serious in his thoughts. “What did you make of that Oak?”

      “I’m not quite sure but I know it wasn’t what it seemed to be.”

      “Why do you say that?”

      “From what I know of Rancor, he is sly, clever and good at keeping secrets. Why would he give one of his biggest secrets to a man that he knows is all brawn and no brains?”

      Denver gave a half smirk at the last words. “Because he wants us to know, that’s why.”

      Oak’s lips quirked upwards too. “He set us up. There are no weapons; this was done to draw us here, which means he is up to something untoward somewhere else.”

      “Of that I have no doubt.” Denver followed the corridor with his eyes but didn’t take his step down it.

      “What are you thinking?”

      Usually their minds were linked but Oak couldn’t sense anything from Denver and it disturbed him.

      Denver’s eyes softened as he looked at him. “No worries! Don’t bother yourself; there is something that I alone have to sort out. You can’t be involved.”

      Oak was surprised. When they had decided to become allies there had been open communication between them but now the wall had risen in Denver’s mind and Oak wanted to know why. He bristled as he became irate at the thought he had been a puppet and used.

      “You’re wrong. I haven’t used you Oak. You can trust me; we are on the same side but from this you have to be exempt. If it is my downfall, it will not be yours.”

      The confusion that passed through Oak’s mind was like wading through sludge. Denver’s laugh brought him to the present and frustrated him all the more.

      “What is it that I missed? How can you know more than I? I was there, I read both their minds, you can’t have gathered more information than I did.” Oak was exasperated.

      “It’s nothing Oak, let it go.”

      “What the hell are you intending to do Denver?” Oak’s voice was no longer controlled and soft, it spiralled into a high tone as he tried to figure out what Denver was proposing to do.

      “No worries Oak! Just as I said; no worries!”