return the temple to the people has begun?”
“If all goes well. But really, do you have any idea where he might be?”
The quiet man finally spoke, “They kept me for a while in a closet off the throne room. Maybe he is imprisoned there?”
Al thought for a second and replied, “It sounds like a good place to start. Follow me, and please—stay behind me and don’t try to be heroes.”
He used the memory of his journey through the ductwork of the temple to head in the direction of the king’s throne room. The mission was becoming increasingly dangerous as time passed. For this uprising to succeed, they would have to hurry.
****
Elizabeth knew their time was limited, and these first few minutes were critical to prevent a drawn-out, dug-in confrontation. Her son ran beside her with the rest of the party close behind. They followed the long hall leading to the library, where they could install the program that contained Tiro.
Behind them, people were shouting, and the sound of running boots echoed against their backs. The guards were piling out of their quarters at the other end of the hallway. While some were slowed by their attempt to get dressed as they ran, others disregarded their attire and sped to the rescue of their king.
They passed a large curtained opening on the inside wall and were headed for another when they heard the sound of laser pistols firing, and tiny holes began to appear on the walls beside them.
The plan had included a priority. If the party were to get pinned down, Chris was to continue to the library with Tiro while the rest provided cover.
“In here!” Elizabeth yelled.
Chris ran on. Nothing was to stop him.
The rest of the insurgents did not need to be told twice, and they ducked behind the ornate curtain to return fire, quickly forcing the defenders to retreat past the curve of the passageway. While the enemy scurried back, they turned to check the room they had invaded. Behind the curtain lay the throne room, and in a chair before the opulent throne was a bloody-faced Darius, secured by ropes. King Agenor and a guard stood over him; the king’s hand frozen over his head in a position to strike.
****
Chris pictured himself like Al Clark as he ran all out for the library at the end of the corridor. He ran like he had never run before, and no one tried to stop him. The curtain that covered the doorway grew quickly before him, and within minutes he was throwing the covering to the side and entering his objective.
Two old men in white robes huddled over a reader, deep in the mysteries of the technology, they were oblivious to the revolution. They turned and in unison said, “You are not allowed in here.”
Chris was half their age and armed. He was not concerned.
He stepped over to the reader, looked at them and smiled, “Watch this,” he said.
From his pocket, he took the cube that was Tiro and inserted it into the machine. At first, nothing happened, then the hologram formed on the platform behind the monitor and the little gray alien appeared.
Chris looked at the two so-called scholars and said, “Gentlemen, meet Tiro. He is your new guide to the temple. I think you will learn to like him a lot.”
Speechless, their mouths wide open, they alternated their stares between the stranger, and the even stranger being before them.
“I have control Mister Morris, would you like to close and lock the doors?” asked the hologram.
“Yes Tiro, let’s close the doors. That will be an excellent start.”
****
Al heard the guards hiding in the corridor long before they noticed him. They were lined up along the inner wall waiting for a chance to strike. He told the two revolutionaries behind him to go back and hide inside the first door they found. They would be safer there than where he was going. The two men turned and then glanced back, and Al was gone. A ghost in the wind.
He stayed to the outside of the corridor, and the guards felt the wind from his