Centered in the middle of the screen was a white crescent against a dark blue background.
Jack pressed the screen again and a narrow rectangular box appeared. It looked like a password was required. He wished he knew what it was. He pressed inside the box and nothing happened. No keyboard appeared to type in a code or password.
He felt around the edge of the digital panel. His fingers brushed something familiar along the bottom. “Okay. I’ve got a port.”
“A what?” she asked. “I know you are saving us, but how are you doing it?”
Jack smiled as he reached into a pocket and grabbed his special communication device for use in Alienn, Arkansas, and the surrounding towns.
It looked like an old BlackBerry and, most importantly, had a built-in keyboard. Jack fished a connecting cable from his other pocket and plugged it into the panel’s universal port and his communication device.
He tried a universal code that often overrode any need for a password.
It didn’t work.
A new message appeared above the rectangular box.Two more attempts before lockout.Harsh, but not unexpected.
Jack tried another of his almost-never-fails codes. He held his breath as he pressed Enter.
One more attempt before lockout.
Now he had to think. He didn’t have a third secret code to try.
“I don’t know what the password is and I’ve tried the two possible override codes and they didn’t work. If I don’t enter the correct one this time, we’re stuck here.”
Madelaine said, “Okay. Let’s take a minute, maybe take a breath or two, and work through this.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She inhaled a second time, and slowly pushed the breath out again. A third slow, measured breath. All the while, she stared at the screen as if it would give her inspiration for what needed to be input.
He decided to do the same thing. The breathing didn’t hurt, but all he saw when he looked at the screen was the failure of his first two attempts taunting him.
“Wait,” she said, sounding hopeful. She pointed to the screen. “Does that look like a moon to you? A crescent moon, maybe?”
Jack squinted. “Maybe. Yes. Why?”
“Veyre said when the silent moon asks for a name, give it yours.”
Jack rocked back on his heels. “You’re right. It does look like a moon,” he said, glancing up. “And I don’t hear the klaxon as loud here, either. So I would count this as a silent moon.”
Madelaine crossed her fingers as he entered his name into the rectangular box. Nothing happened for a count of three. Before Jack’s hopes could crash and burn, they heard the glorious sound of the door unlocking and it swung open several inches.
He pulled his cable from the panel, shoved it and his communication device into his pocket and together they headed out into the corridor, where the alarm blared full force.
“I think this is the corridor that leads to the area next to the arched opening and landing pad where we left the ship,” Jack said.
“It looks a lot different with only the red flashing light and the blaring klaxon ringing in my head,” Madelaine said.
“Truth.”
“And where is everyone?”
“No telling. There must be an evacuate order when the klaxon sounds and the red lights flash or something. If it’s a runner, maybe that’s a spectator sport here.”
“Maybe.”
The last time the corridor had people here and there. Now, it was empty. That was unnerving, given that there was supposedly a prison riot, a runner or something unforeseen going on. He’d expected to see prison guards with weapons and riot gear marching in squads, ready to resolve whatever problem existed.
Jack tightened his grip on the cardboard box as they walked through the doorway and into the corridor. He immediately noticed someone waiting.
Warden Marcus Draven.
