Countdown from Three

~Chapter 6~ Where I'd rather be

Of course, of course, of course he knew the consequences, only too well. Every one of them were uneasy conclusions he'd came to after calculations of countless sleepless nights. He'd double checked them. Triple checked them. Nothing changed. They plagued his thoughts in day and his dreams at night. Even as he formulated and perfected the plan to change the course of fate, the dread had never left him. How does the weight of this compare to his useless grief?

Arcthorn held himself together, standing still for a silent moment ot keep his body steady. Then, step by step, he moved slowly forward.

His pocket vibrated.

Arcthron reached for it reflexively. A transparent tape appeared on his palm, its two ends draping down on the sides. He clutched it in his hand, taking comfort in its familiarity. His eyes shut tightly, brows furrowed.

I should go.

It was so painful to wallow in his agony, and even more to take his mind off it. Azure, Azure. He waited a moment longer. If words are knives, I would have died a million times. Thankfully they are not, or I would not be able to walk away from you now and carry on with this impossible mission I've started. A wry smile. Wish me luck.

Arcthorn's green eyes snapped open and assessed his invention. The tape was exactly forty-five centimetres long, and thirty-five millimetres wide, thin and opaque. He placed a finger on the top edge and swiped to the side. Instantly all the data he'd placed came to life: pale blue lines of light lit up and surged through the entire surface. From one end it was a flickering matrix of numbers; he studied the calculations for a moment and moved the tape across, evealing a floor plan sketch.

Given the limited time to acquire information, the floor plan of the Armory was based heavily on speculation. Arcthorn had colour-coded the areas for convenience: yellow for confirmed, blue for unconfirmed, and red for the path he intended to take. Presently on the border of yellow and blue a pulsing blue dot moved, slow and steadily towards the blue zone. Werever it went the borders renewd; blue lines transformed into yellow, confirming Acrthorn's conjecture.

That dot represented the location of Azure's ring, now in the hands of Professor Curtis. Arcthorn frowned. Some time soon that man ought to find out the existence of the ring. A man of the professor's aptitude would certainly be able to deduce the ring's purpose and use it to his advantage.

If that was the case, the ring would not be reliable for long. For all he knew, it could lead him towards a deadly trap. At the thought, his adroit fingers drew coded symbols on the invisible control panel on the tape's border. The command that linked the renewal of the map to the location of the ring was cancelled. With a brief moment of consideration his fingers slipped to the edge of the tape-like instrument and rolled it all the way to the other end. He held it between his fingers, with his free hand produced a small silver cap. He fixed it on one end of the furled instrument and clicked.

Immediately a projection of the map appeared on the ground, zoomed to his current location. He studied it for a moment.

Tracking, on.

Radar detection, on.

Radio signal interception, on.

Sound, off. Luminosity, low.

With each flick of his thumb, the delicate layers of the silver cap clicked into place. Arcthorn progressed through his mental checklists. He had done the instrument calibration earlier - even a slight error in measurements could jeopardise his chances. Still, this wasn't the time to worry. This was his best chance.

Inhaling, Arcthorn pushed all idle thoughts to the back on his mind. A torch-like gadget materialised in his hand as he cautiously made his way forward in the low-gravity environment. "Positive," he reminded himself mentally, flicking the switch to an unmarked mode before activating the battery, all the while never taking his eyes off the ground. Since most gadgets were assembled by him alone and would be unlikely to find their way to others, Arcthorn had never felt the need to label the their functions.