Shadow on the Sun (22 page)

CHAPTER 45

Prometheus Basin

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
239. 2. 19. 10:08

 

 

Near the mines of Hell's Cross, a continental divide called the Prometheus Basin rises like a glacial wall into the sky. The basin looks down upon Fisher Four, giving an expansive view of the mining operation. It also exposes you to the elements if you climb it, and the wind whipping down from the basin rim can freeze even the best-equipped travelers before they can cover a hundred meters.

“We have to get off the basin!” Vienne yells over the wind. She points to a path that leads to the plains surrounding the mines. “That way!”

None of the brothers argue with her as she jumps from the rim onto the narrow path. Immediately the wind is halved, and its deafening roar drops to a low hum. With a wave, Vienne beckons them forward.

They walk single file, not speaking, weapons ready, until they reach the plain. Half a kilometer away are the main shaft and the nearby steel tower that controls a lift mechanism.

The tipple, once used to haul the guanite from the mines, indicates a second shaft. The tower is covered in thick ice on the north side. The same is true of almost every structure, even the main gate. It's hard to imagine that Fisher Four might be colder than before, but there wasn't this much ice before.

Vienne guides the crew to the rusted-out wrought-iron main entrance. The sign above the gate reads,
NO WORK, NO GOD
.
She assesses the sign. “It's lost some letters since I was here last.”

Letters aren't all that's changed. The main entrance is full of rubble, closed by a cave-in. And the whole lift mechanism's been fragged. From the thermite marks on the steel girders, it was done on purpose.

“So much for the gate entrance. It's blocked,” she tells the crew when they catch up to her. “Yakov, where's the second entrance you mentioned?”

“By the tipple,” he replies.

Vienne points to the twisted remains of the tipple. It, too, bears marks of intentional demolition. Someone sure wants to keep visitors out. “You mean that tipple?”

“Yes,” Yakov says.

“I knew was bad plan,” Pushkin whines.

“The best-made plans of mice and men soon go awry,” Mother says.

“We should keep money and go home!” Pushkin continues.

Mother pulls out a sawed-off shotgun and aims it at him. “Another word out of you and you'll go home in a body bag. Got it?”

Pushkin swallows hard, his Adam's apple protruding, and nods.

Nikolai steps between the boy and the shotgun. “Shotgun is not necessary, Mother. Pushkin was only complaining.
Jaa?
”

“Jaa! Jaa!”
Pushkin says.

Mother pumps the shotgun. “Don't let it happen again. The rest of you, spread out. Find another entrance.”

“What about the lift in the tram house, Vienne?” Jenkins asks. “Can we hurry up and find a way in? I'm starting to get—”

“Cold?”

“Hungry.”

“You're always hungry,” Vienne says. “Which way's the tram from here?”

Jenkins spins in a circle. “My sense of direction's not too good. Over . . . there?”

“Where?”

“It's someplace around here,” he says. “I swear.”

“We'll freeze to death before you remember.” Vienne extends a hand to Mother Koumanov. “Map.”

With a huff to show how perturbed she is, Mother produces the electrostat. “It won't work in this cold.”

Vienne raises her jacket and unhooks the buttons on her cheongsam. She slides the sheath against her stomach and waits for it to warm up. “We'll be in Hell's Cross before Jenkins can freeze to death.” She points to a corrugated metal structure a hundred meters away on the opposite of a mound of fresh guanite. “There's a tram house over there. It goes underground. There used to be a tunnel that leads to a bridge. If the bridge is still there, we can use it to reach Hell's Cross.”

The thought of entering the mines sends an excited shiver down Vienne's spine, and she knows one thing for certain: The end is coming.

CHAPTER 46

The Hive

Olympus Mons

ANNOS MARTIS
239. 2. 19. 10:13

 

 

In the infirmary attached to the Nursery, General Lyme lies on an operating table, attached to a ventilator to supply oxygenated air to his lungs.

On the screens above the table, his vitals signs are displayed in a graph, along with a waveform of his brain activity.

Riacin leans over Lyme. He is dressed in scrubs and wears a surgical mask.

“Blood pressure is ninety over sixty-five and fluctuating. His other vital signs are stable, however, so I will continue with the insertion procedure.”

At her station, the driver expands the waveform pattern on her own monitor.

“Spinal taps are in place. I'm ready when you are.”

“General?” Riacin says. “This process will subject you to a battery of medications and stimuli. It's imperative that you remain calm and still for the entire process. Blink twice if you understand my instructions.”

Lyme blinks twice.

“Driver,” Riacin says, pressing a series of LEDs on the dome covering Lyme's head. “You may begin.”

“Insertion process initiated,” she says, and taps a screen. “Dolly, it's all yours.”

“Affirmative.” Dolly's face appears on the screen. “I will take it from here. General, you are about to become a new man.”

CHAPTER 47

Hell's Cross

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
239. 2. 19. 11:31

 

 

When they reach the tram house, a ten-by-ten shack with a single door and four Plexi windows, the lift door is hanging by a thread and the hydraulic lift is full of rocks. The area around it is covered in gray and black streaks, the characteristic marks of C-42 explosives.

Somebody tried to close this lift the same way they closed the other entrances. “Fuse's work?” Vienne asks Jenkins.

He shrugs, holding the 50-caliber minigun on his shoulder. “He's usually better at blowing things up than this.”

“Maybe he was in a hurry, and something interrupted him.” Vienne hits the call button, and a lift motor hums. “You're bringing your heavy gun along? The tunnels are tight quarters.”

Jenkins pats the barrel. “Never go nowhere without her. Especially into the mines.”

No argument there, Vienne thinks. “Mother, just how many Sturmnacht are waiting for us down there?”

“A dozen,” Mother says. “Maybe two. Does it matter?”

“Not really. I just wanted to make sure I brought enough bullets.”

A half minute later, the lift—an ore car modified to carry passengers—reaches the tram room. Vienne takes the operator's seat, and the rest of the crew pile onto the wooden benches behind her.

As Vienne grabs for the control stick, she glances at Nikolai. “You brothers sure are quiet today.”

“Is cold,” Nikolai says.

“I thought the Ferro liked the cold,” Vienne says.

“Perhaps they do,” Nikolai says. “But Brothers Koumanov like the warm.”

The motor engages, and the lift starts to lower.

“Wait.” Mother grabs Vienne's hand to stop the descent. “Not all of us are riding. Yakov and Nikolai, you're with me. Pushkin and Zhuk, stand guard in the tram house. Shoot anybody who tries to come into the mine.”

Zhuk and Pushkin look past Mother to Nikolai. He crosses his arms and gives a subtle shake of the head. “Is good plan. Stay here, brothers. Mines are dangerous places. Here you will be safe.”

 

The lift reaches the end of the shaft. Vienne pushes the accordion door open and leads the crew into the tunnel, where two rows of dim lights illuminate their path. The air feels warm on her face, but it has the all-too-familiar stink of sulfur.

Warmer air means still air, and that means guanite. The brown dust is impossible not to inhale. Within seconds, all of their faces are powdered with it, and it cakes around their noses and mouths. They all look like miners, not mercenaries.

“Which way?” Mother says.

Vienne breaks open a glow torch. She points toward what gut instinct tells her is north. In the mines, all you have is instincts because you lose all sense of bearings, along with all sense of time. “Follow me,” she says. “Keep your heads down. No telling what could be above us.”

“I hate the dark,” Jenkins says.

“I remember.”

“I really hate the dark.”

Vienne gives his big hand a squeeze. “There's nothing to be afraid of.”

“That's what you think,” he replies. “I lived in these mines for months. There's tons of stuff to be afraid of.”

Mother lowers her shotgun. “How sweet,” she says. “Now stow it. We've got a job to do.”

They start moving quickly, crouched low to avoid hazards. Vienne trails a hand on the wall to keep her bearings. She's surprised to find that the rock surface is smooth as glass. Then she remembers that this tunnel was cut by chigoe.

They make quick time of it, and to Vienne's surprise, they encounter no Sturmnacht. She begins to run faster, as if something is chasing her. Twice, they stop to catch their breath and sip from their canteens, each time because Vienne has the feeling that someone is in the tunnels with them.

But each time, when she cups a hand to her ear, all she hears is their heavy breathing and the silence of the mines. Maybe she's beginning to imagine things, to see bogeymen at every corner.

Then, finally, she sees what she hasn't been hearing—a flickering light somewhere up ahead.

They are not alone.

Vienne holds up the glow torch to signal the others to stop.

“What is it?” Mother says.

A finger to her lips, Vienne signals silence.

She holds up both hands.

“Wait here,” she whispers, and points toward the flickering light.

Vienne hides the glow torch in her robe, dulling the light.

She creeps ahead, almost silent, holding her breath.

Then she hears it.

Voices.

Heel to toe, pressed against the glass smooth surface of the tunnel, she creeps forward. Knife in hand, listening for a change in volume in the voices, a hint that they're drawing closer.

A gust of air lifts her hair. The smell has changed. It's less sulfur and more earthy, much cooler, an indication that the tunnel is connected to a much larger space. A corridor, she recalls from her last visit here. One that runs straight to Hell's Cross.

Voices again.

Louder this time, and a light from a burning torch casting shadows.

Coming this way.

She'll let the first Sturmnacht pass and take out the next with a punch to the kidneys. Then she'll get creative.

She presses her back against the rock wall and waits, knife poised to strike.

Ready for the kill.

CHAPTER 48

Hell's Cross

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
000. 0. 00. 00:00

 

 

The side spur Fuse picked is low, and I'm tall, so when Fuse delivers his news, I rear up in shock and bash my helmet against the ceiling. Chunks of loose guanite fall down my neck and coat my symbiarmor in stinky brown
kuso
.

“You're
married
,”
I say, “and have a little one on the way?”

I didn't know he had it in him.

“Neither did I,” Mimi says.

He punches me in the arm. “That's what I miss about you, chief. Your sense of humor.”

When the side spur ends, I step out into an open cavern, and like the first time I came to Hell's Cross, it feels like time stops. All around me are the familiar high cliffs. The rock is dark brown but looks black where the beam of Fuse's light fails to extend.

Being in a hole is something you never get used to.

“Do a sweep,” I tell Mimi. “I don't want any uglies jumping out at us.”

“Why do you bother to ask for sweeps?” she says. “You know that I have evolved to the point of initiating them when necessary.”

“It makes me feel safer,” I say.

“Then I will refrain from reminding you that as before, the shape of the tunnels and the magnetic properties of the rock formations play havoc with the telemetry functions in your suit.”

“Got it,” I say. “I'll watch out for the bogeyman.”

“What about you, chief?” Fuse says. “Where's that susie of yours? Surprised she's not with you on this job. Thought you two was joined at the hip and such.”

“We—” How do I answer that? “We got separated.”

“Keep the faith,” he says. “You never know when destiny will bring a couple back together. Think of the mushy hot kiss that'd earn you, right?”

“Vienne and I aren't . . . ”

“What? No pashing?” He steps into a smaller cavern and makes a left along the wall. Wind blows the flame of his torch as we pass another ventilation tunnel. “C'mon, chief, you've got to give her one on the lips. Just to let her know you care. The ladies like that.”

“Cowboy! I am picking up biosignatures—”

“Oof!” I say as a punch drives into my kidney.

What the
kào
?

“Duck!” Mimi yells.

Fuse swings the torch around as my attacker throws another kidney punch. This time it bounces off my armor, and I spin, fist coming up to block a right hook as Fuse‘s light illuminates the most beautiful face I've ever seen.

“Vienne?”

“Durango?”

I'm grinning like a crazy man. I throw my arms wide, and she slaps me across the face.

Smack!

My helmet flies off and hits the floor. My stinging jaw falls open.

“Mimi? Why did she hit me?”

“Cowboy, if I knew, I wouldn't tell you.”

“Blimey,” Fuse says, “I always knew that susie had issues!”

“Fuse? Fuse! You cobber!”

Jenkins tears out of the cavern. Grabs Fuse in a bear hug and bounces him up and down.

“Put me down, you big lunkhead!” Fuse says.

I pick up my helmet, face still smarting. “Reckon I deserved that,” I say.

Tears trail down the dust on Vienne's cheeks.

“Where have you been?”

“I—”

She grabs my jacket and pulls herself tight against me. She slips her hand around my back and squeezes me closer. I slide my hand behind her head. Lace my fingers through her hair, drawing her face, her lips to mine. They are cold at first, then warm.

“Where have you been?” she says softly.

“Looking for you.” I kiss her again. “Reckon I got a little sidetracked.”

“You reckon?” she says.

“How about you?”

“Same here,” she says, and runs her hand across my hair, scrubbing her palm on the buzzed tips. “Damn it, Durango, you cut your hair!”

“I didn't,” I say. “My father did.”

“Your
father
?”

“It's a long story.” I take her hands in mine. Her left pinkie is bandaged. “You cut your finger?”

“It's a long story,” she says.

“Cowboy,” Mimi says.

“I'm kind of busy.”

“The wrong kind of busy,” she nags. “You have a job to do.”

“I hate to, um, throw a bucket of ice water on us, but I've got a problem.”

“I really don't like it when you use those words,” Vienne says. She runs a finger across my temple where the purple scar was. “What problem?”

I reach into my rucksack and pull out the pigeon. “This problem.”