Krystel was already running towards the hole in the wall. Hunter started after her, and then hesitated again as he saw something metal glinting on the ground. It was Williams’ sword. Hunter thrust his dagger back into his boot, snatched up the sword, and ran after Krystel. They reached the opening and charged through it before most of the aliens even realised they were gone. Hunter and Krystel stopped just inside the hole and looked quickly about them.
They were in a huge empty room, lit only by the dim light falling through the jagged hole. Hunter and Krystel moved quickly to get out of the light, and set their backs against the wall on either side of the opening. Hunter’s breathing finally began to slow a little. Outside, it sounded as though the horde was still diverted by Williams’ death, but Hunter knew that wouldn’t last long. He hefted Williams’ sword. It had a fine balance, and it felt good to have a sword in his hand again. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it until he had to make do with just his dagger. A disrupter and a force shield were powerful weapons, but in the end somehow it always came down to cold steel, and the man who used it. He looked across at Krystel. She was breathing hard and covered in sweat, but she still looked calmer and fresher than he did.
“What happened to Williams?” he said hoarsely.
Krystel shrugged. “He must have got careless. Or unlucky. It happens.”
Hunter nodded tiredly. “All right, what do we do next?” “You’re the Captain.”
Hunter looked at her resentfully, but knew she was right. For all her skills, he had the most experience, so the responsibility was his—even though all he really wanted was to sit right down where he was and hide, and hope the aliens would give up and go away. He was tired. He couldn’t recall when he’d ever felt this tired. It was the strain, of course; the never-ending tension….
“All right,” he said finally, trying hard to at least sound confident. “We can’t stay here. The aliens will be in here after us at any minute. Let’s get moving. The sooner we put some distance between us and them, the better.”
He moved steadily towards the other side of the room, wincing as his aching joints protested. The Investigator took the field lantern from her backpack and turned it on before following him. The soft golden light was lost in the darkness of the huge room, but it was enough for Hunter to make out an open doorway in the far wall. He broke into a run, and Krystel padded along beside him. They’d just reached the doorway when the light from behind them was suddenly cut off. Hunter glanced back to find that something huge, armoured, and headless had wedged itself into the hole in the wall. He raised his gun and pressed the stud. The beam of searing energy punched clean through the armoured body. The alien screamed hoarsely, but did not die. Hunter ran through the open doorway, with Krystel close behind.
They found themselves in a long, high-ceilinged hall filled with rows of squat alien machinery that disappeared into the darkness beyond the lantern light. Hunter and Krystel slowed to a halt. Lights gleamed on some of the machines, and there was a low, unpleasant hum on the air, shuddering in their bones. Krystel looked behind her.
“They’re coming after us, Captain. I can hear them.”
Hunter glared back the way they’d come. “We can’t outrun them. We need to slow them down, buy us some time.” He smiled suddenly, and pulled one of the concussion grenades from his bandolier. He primed it, and then rolled it along the ground so that it stopped just inside the doorway. “All right, Investigator; let’s get the hell out of here.”
They ran between the alien machinery, surrounded by a halo of light from the field lantern. It seemed to Hunter that they ran for a long time, but still the hall stretched away before them, and the grenade didn’t go off. And then the floor shook under their feet, and a blast of roaring air sent them flying forward. The explosion was deafeningly loud in the confined space, and slivers of stone and metal flew through the air like shrapnel. Hunter and Krystel raised their force shields above their heads to protect themselves and crouched down to present a smaller target. After a while, they looked back. The hall was blocked with rubble from the shattered walls. Hunter and Krystel shared a grin, then ran on into the darkness.
They reached the end of the hall, but there was no doorway. Krystel raised her gun and blew a hole through the wall. They clambered through the sharp-edged opening and found themselves in a long, featureless corridor. Glowing rods were set into the ceiling at irregular intervals. Krystel strapped the field lantern to her belt so as to leave one hand free, then stopped and looked quickly back through the hole. Hunter heard it too. The aliens had broken through into the hall of machines and were coming after them. Hunter and Krystel ran down the corridor at full pelt. Hunter had no idea where he was going, but anything was better than waiting around for the aliens to catch up with them.
The corridor seemed to go on forever, with never a doorway or opening anywhere. The first sounds of pursuit began to echo behind them, together with an occasional inhuman roar. Hunter didn’t look back. He didn’t want to know how close the aliens were. Krystel pulled a grenade from her bandolier and held it in her hand, ready for use. They finally rounded a corner and plunged through an opening into the base of a tower. The familiar ramp wound up the inside wall. Krystel looked at it dubiously.
“If we let ourselves be chased up there, eventually we’re going to run out of ramp. And the top of a high tower is a hell of a place to be cornered.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Hunter. “But we’re not going that far. How close are the aliens?”
Krystel looked back down the corridor. “Too close, and getting closer.”
“Figures. Have you still got your grenade? Good. Use it to slow the bastards down a bit, and then follow me up the ramp.”
Hunter started up the ramp as Krystel turned to face the corridor. She primed the grenade and rolled it down the corridor into the darkness. In the distance, something that glowed with an eerie violet light hissed like a fire hose. Krystel snarled silently in return, and then hurried up the ramp after Hunter. She found him waiting for her in a doorway leading off the ramp onto the next floor. The grenade blew, and the ramp trembled under their feet. A chorus of inhuman screams and howls echoed up from the corridor below. Hunter and Krystel shared a smile, and then Hunter led the Investigator through the doorway into a dark, empty room.
They hurried across the room and through an open doorway into another room. Metallic streamers hung from the ceiling, twisting and turning slowly, though no breeze stirred the air. Hunter and Krystel crossed the room as quickly as they dared, threading their way through the streamers while being very careful not to touch them. The streamers looked harmless enough, but both the Captain and the Investigator had learned to distrust everything they found in the city; particularly things that moved when they shouldn’t. The next room was empty, and a dead end. Hunter stopped and listened, but everything seemed quiet. He nodded briefly to the Investigator.
“Stay in the doorway. Keep an eye open for uninvited guests.”
Krystel unstrapped her field lantern and put it down, then moved away to stand guard in the doorway, sword and force shield at the ready. Hunter aimed his disrupter at the middle of the floor and pressed the stud. The energy bolt blasted a wide hole through the floor. Cracks spread out from the hole, and Hunter watched anxiously for a long moment before the floor finally settled again. He holstered his gun, picked up the lantern, knelt down, and lowered it through the hole. The room below held a number of steel and crystal shapes that might have been machines or sculptures, but was otherwise empty. Hunter studied the drop dubiously, and tried to tell himself it wasn’t as far as it looked.
“Krystel! Any sign of the aliens?”
“Nothing yet, Captain.”
“Then get over here. We’re going back down a floor the hard way. With a little luck, that should throw the aliens off our trail long enough for us to make a discreet exit. I’ll go first.”
He put the lantern on the floor beside him, turned off
his force shield, and sheathed his sword. He sat down on the edge of the hole and lowered his legs into it. With the light gone, he couldn’t see how far the drop was. He wasn’t sure whether that made him feel less or more nervous. In the end, he just gritted his teeth, and pushed himself off. He dropped for an unnervingly long moment, and then the floor slammed up against his feet. He fell in a sprawling heap and knocked the wind out of himself. He’d just about managed to get to his feet again when Krystel landed lightly beside him, lantern in hand.
“Are you all right, Captain?”
“Fine,” he said quickly. “Just fine.”
The room led out into a corridor. There were lighting rods set into the ceiling, but only a few of them were working. The corridor held only shadows, and there was no trace to show the aliens had ever been there. Hunter and Krystel crept quietly through the gloom, weapons at the ready, and soon passed into another corridor. They made their way cautiously across the ground floor of the building, jumping at every sound or moving shadow, until finally they found a doorway that led out onto the street.
Hunter gestured to Krystel to turn off the field lantern, and peered warily out the doorway into the gloom. The street was empty, and there was no sign of the aliens. Hunter stepped out onto the street, looked around, and then nodded for Krystel to join him. She did so, strapping the lantern to her belt just in case she needed it again in a hurry. The sun had dropped almost out of sight, and the sky was darkening towards night. Some distance away, the copper tower stood tall and enigmatic above the surrounding buildings.
Hunter turned to Krystel to tell her it was safe to move off, and then froze as the wall behind her cracked open and fell apart. Long branches of spiked vine burst out of the stonework, reaching for the Investigator. She threw herself to the ground and rolled out of reach, but by the time she was back on her feet again the vines had spilled out onto the street, forming an impenetrable barrier between her and the Captain. A score of leaping, hopping insects, each a foot long or more, came flying out of the wall and descended on Krystel, their long jaws snapping hungrily. She activated her force shield and met them with her sword. Hunter picked off one of the insects with his gun, exploding its dark grey carapace, but couldn’t do anything else to help her. He threw himself at the twisting vines, hacking at them with his sword. The barbs rattled harmlessly against his steelmesh tunic and broke themselves against his force shield.
Krystel swung her sword double-handed, her cold grin back again. The huge insects fell beneath her blade, and the uninjured feasted on the fallen. Krystel laughed aloud. This was what she had been trained for, the moment that gave purpose to her life; to be the perfect, invincible killing machine. The aliens came to her and she slaughtered them, and was content.
Hunter finally used his next to the last grenade on the vines. The blast blew him a hole through the writhing branches, and he forced his way through, ignoring the scratches to his bare face and hands. The Investigator had surrounded herself with crippled insects, and for the moment seemed to have run out of targets. He grabbed her arm and hustled her off down the street. For a moment she struggled against him, and then the killing fever left her, and she ran along beside him, heading for the copper tower.
And behind them came the aliens, in all their many shapes.
Corbie lifted his gun and fired blindly into the darkness. The brilliant energy bolt illuminated the hall of memories briefly, and punched a hole clean through the chest of the armoured alien as it tried to break through the wall. It screamed once as the darkness returned, a curiously high-pitched sound from such a large creature. Corbie glared wildly about him, and reached blindly for the esper. He knew she was somewhere close at hand—he could hear her dry heaving—but he couldn’t seem to locate her with his hands. And then his fingers brushed against something hard and unyielding, and his heart missed a beat.
“Stand still,” said Lindholm quickly. “And keep your hands to yourself. Start thrashing around in the dark and we’ll end up killing each other. Turn on your force shield; that’ll give us some light while I get the field lantern out of your backpack.”
Corbie activated his shield, and the glowing energy field appeared on his arm, the pale light dispelling some of the darkness. Lindholm glanced briefly at the armoured alien lying slumped in the wreckage of the wall, and rummaged in Corbie’s backpack for his lantern. Corbie grabbed DeChance by the shoulders and got her on her feet again. She leaned tiredly against him and clung to his arm for support. The dry heaves died away, leaving her pale and trembling. Corbie looked at her anxiously. Her face was gaunt and pinched, and her eyes didn’t track. Off in the distance, from every side, there came the sound of alien screams and cries. They were getting closer. Lindholm finally got the lantern working, and the hall of memories reappeared around them.
“We’ve got to get out of here, Sven,” said Corbie. “The esper’s out of it, and the aliens will be here any minute.”
“I think you’re probably right,” said Lindholm. He looked around for an exit, but there was only the doorway they’d come through. Part of one wall had collapsed, but the armoured alien blocked the way with its body, and already the creature was showing signs of stirring. Lindholm swore briefly, and pointed his disrupter at the floor. He pressed the stud, and the searing beam of energy smashed open a hole. The floor groaned and shuddered. Cracks spread out from the hole, but after a few moments the floor grew steady again. Corbie gave Lindholm a hard look.
“Down there? Are you kidding? There could be anything down there!”
“Have you got a better idea?”
Corbie scowled unhappily. “Some days you just shouldn’t get out of bed in the morning.”
Lindholm sat down on the floor and swung his legs into the hole. “I’ll go first, and you can hand the esper down to me. Right?”
“Got it,” said Corbie. He manhandled the unresisting esper over to the hole, and then waited impatiently as Lindholm lowered himself into the darkness. Corbie glared back through the open doorway. He couldn’t see anything in the gloom, but he could hear the aliens drawing nearer. It sounded like there were a lot of them. Over in the wreckage of the wall, the armoured alien slowly raised its head. Its eyes glowed blue in the dim light. Corbie looked at the dazed esper, and wondered what the hell the memory sphere had shown her to produce such a violent reaction. On second thought, he decided he probably didn’t want to know. Lindholm hissed at him from down in the hole, and Corbie carefully lowered the esper into Lindholm’s waiting arms. DeChance murmured something indistinct, but didn’t come out of her daze. The armoured alien heaved itself out of the wreckage of the broken wall. Corbie quickly sat down by the hole, and pushed himself off into the darkness below.
Under the floor he found himself in a circular tunnel some seven feet high. After the huge scale of the other buildings, the tunnel felt decidedly claustrophobic. Moisture ran down the rough stone walls and pooled on the floor. It smelled awful. Lindholm held up his lantern and looked up and down the tunnel. It stretched away into the distance for as far as he could see. Lindholm and Corbie looked at each other.
“So, which way now?” said Corbie.
“Beats me,” said Lindholm. “One way is as good as another, I suppose.”
“No,” said DeChance. “That way.”
She pointed down the tunnel with a trembling hand. Lindholm tentatively released his hold on her, and smiled encouragingly when she managed to stay upright without his support. Her eyes had focused again, but she looked awful. Her face was pale and haggard, the skin stretched tightly over the bones. Sweat ran down her face, and her eyes had a sunken, bruised look. Her hands were trembling violently.
“How are you feeling?” said Corbie gently.
DeChance grinned. “I’ll live.”
“What did the ball show you?” asked Lindholm.
“Not now,” said DeChance. She pointed down the tunnel again. “We have to go that way, and quickly. The aliens will be here soon. They want us badly,
and they won’t give up. They want what makes us sane. Our certainty. I think this tunnel is part of what used to be the sewers. We’ll follow the tunnel until we’re somewhere near the copper tower, and then blast our way back out again.”
“How are we going to know when we’ve reached the tower?” said Corbie.
“I’ll know,” said DeChance. “The device burns very brightly in my mind.”
Corbie looked at Lindholm, who shrugged. Corbie shook his head disgustedly. “I might have known I’d end up having to make all the decisions in this group.”
“But you do it so well, Russ,” said Lindholm solemnly. “Haven’t I always said you were natural officer material?” “You know, Sven, you could be replaced.” “What by?” “Practically anything.”
A long, hooked leg bristling with thorns groped down through the hole from above. The Squad backed quickly away from it.
“Right,” said Corbie. “That does it. Let’s get moving. Sven, you’ve got the light so you take the lead. We’ll follow. And let’s not hang about, people. This strikes me as a very unlucky place to be cornered in.”
He cut the probing leg in two with his sword. The severed end fell to lie twitching on the tunnel floor. Lindholm moved quickly off down the tunnel, and Corbie and DeChance hurried after him. Corbie took the esper’s hand to guide her, and then had to fight to keep from snatching his hand back again. Her skin felt wet and slippery, and somehow … loose, as though she’d lost a lot of weight in a hurry. He started to say something, but DeChance began to tell him what she’d learned from the memory sphere, and he forgot his question as he listened. The intricate tale of broken dreams and raging madness took a long time to tell, and sounded all the worse for being told in such dark and claustrophobic conditions. By the time the esper had finished, both Corbie and Lindholm had taken to glancing anxiously over their shoulders at the darkness beyond the lantern light.
The tunnel began to slope noticeably downwards and the floor was covered in steadily deepening water. By the time DeChance stopped speaking, it was lapping up around their ankles. The water was dark and scummy, and there were things floating in it that Corbie preferred not to look at too closely. The esper and the marines waded along in silence for a while. The sound of their boots splashing through the water seemed unnaturally loud on the quiet.