Secrets of the Sphere (Battlecruiser Alamo Book 27) Page 9

   He carefully tested the ladder, putting his full weight on the top rung, then started to climb down it, descending into darkness. Whoever had fitted the lights on the top level had elected not to illuminate the shaft, and soon the only light was from the ceiling space above, a dim glare that barely allowed him to see the walls. He proceeded by feel, pausing only when a loud yowl filled the air, closer this time, the noise filling him with dread.

   “Maybe this isn't such a good idea,” Lombardo said. “I thought Robertson was only trying to scare us, but if they've had a break-in...”

   “Then they'll have a nice distraction, and we'll have an easier time completing our mission,” Salazar replied, belatedly continuing his descent. He glanced at his pistol, safely nestled in its holster, seeking the assurance it provided, with the knowledge that three sidearms were a woefully inadequate arsenal if they needed to fight their way out of the base. When they'd been brought inside, the guards had gone to great lengths to ensure that they couldn't easily track the route, taking them through a twisted tangle of corridors and passages to their final destination.

   A pool of light flashed on at the bottom, and Salazar froze on the ladder for a moment, waiting for the sound of sirens blaring in the distance, footsteps racing towards them, shouted voices demanding they pause. Nothing came, after he released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, he continued to climb down.

   “Motion sensor,” Lombardo said. “Interesting.”

   “Why?” Carpenter asked.

   “Most facilities would just leave the lights on all the time. Saves on maintenance. Power must be an issue for them. A weakness we could exploit.”

   “Carpenter,” Salazar asked, “Have you still got the beacon?”

   “Still singing, Captain, and we're definitely getting closer. We'll need to make a left when we reach the bottom, then pretty much straight ahead until we find her. Should be smooth sailing.”

   “You know what I like about you most, Sue,” Lombardo said. “It's that sense of naive optimism that I find just charming.”

   “I could...”, she began.

   “Cut it,” Salazar said, glaring at Lombardo. “Both of you. We've got more important things to do than spar. We're almost there.” He paused, then added, “Carpenter, you'd better take point with the scanner when we hit the bottom. I presume we're looking for some sort of secured facility, so you can expect hostiles.”

   “Will do, sir, and I've set my detectors to watch out for any anomalous power readings. That ought to spot any surveillance devices or booby-traps,” Carpenter said.

   Salazar waited for another moment as he reached the bottom of the ladder, listening out in a bid to hear anyone who might be loitering underneath, ready to launch an ambush. He heard nothing, and finally, he dropped down the last few feet to the floor, knees bending from the impact, and quickly looked around, back and forth, seeking out the guards. Once more, there was no sign of anyone, until the same desperate cry echoed through the tunnels again, racing back and forth, sending icy fingers clutching at his soul.

   “Come on,” he said, as much to encourage himself as those with him, and he pressed on down the corridor, eyes drawn to a scurrying shadow on the floor, a rat racing in the opposite direction on some unknowable errand. Lombardo glanced behind them, and for a moment, froze, before shaking his head and pressing on.

   “Getting a little nervous, I guess,” Lombardo said. “I thought I saw something, but it isn't there now. Let's get this over with.”

   “If my readings are right,” Carpenter said, “Our target is about thirty feet from us. Probably on the right.” She paused, then said, “Where the hell is everyone, Captain? No guards, no surveillance, nothing at all. If this is meant to be some sort of secured facility...”

   “It's almost certainly a trap,” Salazar replied. “Which just means we're going to have to be smart enough to get ourselves out of it at the other end.” He gestured at the corridor ahead, a door on the right-hand side of the passage, and said, “That's probably it. Just in case this is some sort of trap, I'll take the lead. You two wait here.” Turning to Lombardo, he replied, “It'll be dawn in about four hours. If anything happens to me, run for it, hide, and try and make it back to the flyer.” He paused, and said, “And don't come back. Pull everyone out of the Sphere and leave. Consider that a direct order.”

   “Sir, if you think...”

   “There's something very wrong here, Carpenter, and I don't want to be responsible for any more deaths! Hold your position, and take any cover you can find.” He walked forward, taking the steps towards the door with carefully mustered calmness, and gently tapped the release control for the door, the portal sliding smoothly open at his command, revealing a jagged passage beyond, immediately twisting to the right. Water dripped from the ceiling into puddles on the floor, stalagmites rising to meet them, testament to the age of the facility.

   With a last wave to his friends, he stepped forward, into the passage, following it around until it opened up into a vast cavern, hundreds of meters across, with other tunnels leading in different directions. Suddenly, it struck him. He'd seen this before. On the world they had found on the far side of the wormhole, the alien city that had led them to this point. While the formations were natural, they had been artificially worked, tunnels enlarged, strange writing carved on the floor. For the first time since they'd arrived on the Sphere, he felt as though he was in familiar territory, and he walked on with increasing confidence. Until a bullet cracked into the floor by his side, sending him diving behind a cluster of rocks for cover, snatching his pistol from its holster.

   “That's close enough,” a familiar voice said.

   “Captain?” he replied. “Captain Orlova? Is that you?”

   “Pavel?” she said. “Good God, what are you doing here?”

   “Looking for you,” he said, rising out of cover, smoothly holstering his pistol. He could see his erstwhile commanding officer moving from the entrance to a passage, disbelief on her face, and walked towards her, clasping her hand as they met. “Lombardo and Carpenter are outside. We've got a flyer on the surface, and if we can find our way out of here...”

   “It isn't as simple as that,” she replied. “They captured Mortimer and me, started taking us back to their facility, but we came under attack by some of the cannibals, and I managed to get away in all the confusion.”

   “Cannibals? Those creatures on the surface?”

   Nodding, she said, “I've been on their trail for weeks.”

   “What about Clarke?”

   “I don't know,” she said. “They didn't take him, but if he was out in the desert after dark, he's dead.” Taking a deep breath, she replied, “I'm sorry, Pavel, but that's the reality of the situation.”

   “Knowing him better than you, I'll believe he's dead when I see the body, but that's for later. What's going on here, Captain? What's happening?”

   A loud wail came from outside, and Lombardo raced inside, his face pale with panic, his pistol in his hand, saying, “They're coming, Captain! Something heading right for us!”

   “We can hide in the tunnels,” Orlova said. “They're taboo. Follow me.” As Lombardo hesitated, she pressed, “Come on, Lieutenant! We've got to move!” She raced into the tunnels, sprinting rapidly enough that the others struggled to keep up, Carpenter moving to her side with greater ease than Salazar and Lombardo. Behind them, figures shambled in the darkness, as Orlova led the way along a long, narrow tunnel, barely wide enough for them to run two abreast.

   “This is crazy!” Lombardo yelled. “They'll be on us in minutes!”

   “Not today, Lieutenant,” Orlova said, gesturing at a shaft in the distance. “Follow me!” She hurled herself down the tunnel, and without a second thought, Salazar followed, sliding down the sloping passage, into the dark gloom beyond. Carpenter and Lombardo were next, but it was impossible for him to think of them, to do anythi
ng other than make desperate attempts to control his descent. The tunnel split in two, and he swung out his arm to send himself to the left, only realizing at the last second that Orlova had headed right, the others moving to join her.

   For what seemed like hours, he continued to fall, spiraling around and around, the cries of the savages about echoing from the walls, gradually receding into the distance. Either they couldn't follow them, or they wouldn't, and the latter seemed more probable. Not that he was going to ask too many questions of the miracle that had saved his life.

   At last, he ran out of tunnel, and he found himself falling through space, diving into a vast, limpid pool, the only light from a few luminous plants on the vast ceiling. He struggled to drag himself to the surface, and with his last ounce of strength, made for the shore, moving through the water with a labored effort, his arms and legs aching from the exertion. Finally, he reached his goal, dragging himself onto a sunless beach, collapsing, exhausted, on the sand.

   “Hello?” he yelled. “Anyone there?”

   Only silence answered him.

  Chapter 12

   Harper's buggy skidded to a halt outside the collection of prefabricated buildings that made up Base Camp, and she looked around at the troopers already preparing defenses, digging a trench line to surround the base, ramming sharp spikes into the ground to slow the advancing hordes they were expecting, and digging in machine gun emplacements. Nobody was preparing cover. This was a different sort of war, and all they could attempt was to slow down the horde before they could engage, to give the machine guns and plasma weapons a chance to do their job.

   As she stepped out of the vehicle, a silent Foster following, she saw Francis walking towards them, as the roar of a shuttle taking off echoed through the gloom. His stern expression sent her glancing back at Fox, the trooper gathering her men to join the crews working the defense. She replied with a shrug, then left the two officers to their fate.

   “Foster,” Francis said, surprising softness in his voice. “What happened?”

   “They attacked us, sir. We were just beginning our survey, and our sensors spotted something on the horizon. There was nothing we could do. We tried to make it for the buggy, but they were on us before we had a chance, so we ran for it, heading into the forest. They came after us, and...” she paused, “that's when I lost the rest of my team.”

   “Sir,” a medic said, “We need to get Garland back to the ship on the double. Severe shock, and a concussion. I'm honestly surprised that he's stayed on his feet for as long as he has.”

   “Get Shuttle Three prepared,” Francis ordered. “That's next on the list.” Glancing at his watch, he added, “She's scheduled for launch in ten minutes. Will that be soon enough?”

   “I think so, sir,” the man replied, snapping a salute. He looked at Foster, and added, “You ought to be on that ride as well, ma'am. I know Doc Strickland will want to take a look at you.”

   Nodding, Foster continued, “Garland fell out of a tree, his first try. Dropped twenty feet, knocked himself cold. I managed to drag him with me, but I thought we were dead. I honestly thought we were dead.” Shivering, she added, “Then, as soon as the sun returned, they vanished. Headed off into the undergrowth. I didn't believe it at first, but I guess they don't like the light.”

   “Nocturnal hunters,” Harper added. “That matches their looks, sir. White hair, red eyes. I suspect they're extremely sensitive to sunlight.” Gesturing at the buggy, she continued, “We bought a body back with us, and I think we've got to get it analyzed at once. There might be some sort of weakness that we can exploit.”

   “Maybe so,” Francis replied. “Go on, Foster.”

   “I waited a couple of hours to make sure that they were gone, and then we started back for the ruin. We were too far from the ship to make it back before darkness, so I was hoping that the buggy would still be there, that it would be in some sort of usable condition. Then I spotted another buggy, out on the plain, and I figured someone was sending a rescue party.” She paused, then added, “It went dark sooner than I'd expected. I damaged my watch in the first attack, and I guess...”

   “Relax, Lieutenant,” Francis said. “You're safe now.”

   “No, sir. None of us is safe. Not while we're here on the Sphere. Don't you understand? They don't stop. They'll just keep coming, onward and onward, until all of us are dead. They're the hunters, and we're their prey. I can't seem to make anyone understand that.” Gesturing at the defenses, she added, “All of this is worthless. When they come, there will be hundreds, thousands of them, and they can't be scared away, and they don't stop to care for their wounded. They'll charge our positions and take them, and there's nothing we can do to stop them. Nothing.”

   Francis turned to Harper, and said, “All the rest of our teams are back.”

   “Except for Salazar, Carpenter and Lombardo.”

   Taking a deep breath, he added, “We've had no contact since they landed, and telemetry shows them in the same position since then. If they've been out in the darkness...”

   “They could have just stayed in the flyer. It's enclosed, and I don't think they'd be able to cut their way through heavy alloys with claws. They're probably just waiting for dawn to take off, when they can get full advantage of their solar arrays. Assuming that they have had any trouble at all. For all we know, they're scouting for the other lost crewmen. We can't just give up on them, sir.”

   “And we can't beat the savages, Kris!” Foster yelled. “Not that way.”

   “Lieutenant Foster,” Francis said, “Report to the shuttle at once. You're heading back to Alamo for a full medical and psych evaluation. You've been through a hell of a lot, and it's going to have affected you.” Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he added, “You've done your duty, Lieutenant. Time to rest, now.”

   With a reluctant sigh, she replied, “Aye, sir,” and walked over to the waiting shuttle, Francis and Harper watching her depart. After a moment, he turned to Harper, a frown on his face.

   “She might be right, Kris.”

   “We'll hold them. We stopped them once, and we can do it again.”

   Pulling out a datapad, he flicked on the display, and replied, “Our drones report a mass of bodies heading this way, at high speed. Eight miles an hour, sustained. You realize what that implies about their physical condition?”

   “I can do an eight-minute mile easily, sir.”

   “With full equipment? For thirty miles without pause, without respite, and fight a battle at the end?” Shaking his head, he replied, “More than that, Kris, we've nothing to hold here. Nothing at all.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “Do you think Pavel would expect his crew to risk their lives on the chance that he might return? Besides, assuming he did, he'll be flying in daylight. If what Foster says is true, then they'll be gone long before then. We can come back at dawn, see what the situation is, and make ready to receive them. Set up an automated repeater.”

   “Sir,” Maqua replied, moving over to them, “There's more at stake than just us. If we leave, the swarm won't simply disperse. They'll attack the local Neander, wipe everything in this region from the map. We've got a duty to them, sir, if nothing else.” Turning to Harper, he added, “And Captain Salazar would wait for us. I know that, and so do you.”

   With a faint chuckle, Harper replied, “He's probably fast asleep in the flyer right now.”

   “With luck,” Francis said. “Then you're suggesting that we don't just have to beat the swarm, we have to exterminate it.”

   “That's probable, sir, but there's something else. I spoke to the elders before I left, and none of them have any record of these creatures ever being present in this part of the Sphere before. Oh, there are some stories about fanged demons, but that could be almost anything. I don't give them any credence. That means that someone targeted these creatures at us. Which gives us at least a measure of responsibility for the situation.
”

   “Sir?” one of the technicians said. “We've just picked up something interesting from Drone Five, out over the plain. The latest feed.”

   “What does it show?” Francis asked.

   “Nothing, sir.”

   “Spaceman, you'd better explain yourself...”

   “Sir, the swarm, it's disappeared. Ten minutes ago we counted three thousand of them, about an hour from our location. Now there's no sign that they were ever there. I've already run a full diagnostic of the drone, and there's no evidence of systems failure or any malfunction.” Glancing back at the status board, he added, “Now confirmed by Drone Four, sir. They're gone.”

   “That's impossible,” Maqua replied. “There's nowhere for them to hide. Not out on the plain.”

   Frowning, Harper asked, “How did they get here in the first place? We've had drones out as far as three hundred miles in every direction. If they'd been making their way across the landscape, we'd have seen them. Assuming there was something there to see. So where have they been?”

   “You're suggesting they had some sort of transport?”

   Maqua nodded, and said, “Our science team theorized that there must be some sort of transport infrastructure built into the Sphere. It's too large for conventional transportation, and we haven't seen the sort of mass use of aircraft that would be implied by the mega-civilizations we picked up. That suggests there's something else we haven't found. Perhaps they have.”

   Harper looked at Francis, both of them instantly having the same idea, the same fear. The tunnel complex, nestled around the accessway that the shuttles had used to find their way down to the surface. There were thousands, hundreds of thousands of passages that wrapped around the shaft, and if the savages had managed to get into one of them, they might be surrounded without even realizing it.

   “All hands to the shuttles!” Francis said. “No protest, Harper, we're pulling out, right now! Ensign Rhodes, tactical deployment, use of plasma weapons authorized and encouraged!”