“Is there any life form on this planet that isn’t treacherous and disgusting?” said Hunter, sitting up slowly and carefully.
“Early days yet, Captain,” said Krystel, lighting a new cigar. “The rest could be downright devious.”
Williams got unsteadily to his feet. “I think we should all return to the pinnace. The Captain and I could both be suffering from internal injuries.”
“Don’t make such a drama out of it,” said Hunter. He rose to his feet and made a token attempt at brushing the dirt from his uniform. “We’re just bruised and battered, that’s all. Now let’s get moving again. The sooner we put some distance between us and whatever it is that’s living at the bottom of that well, the better I’ll like it. And in future, if we come across any other water holes, I think we’ll drop a grenade down it first, and check the quality of the water afterwards.”
He turned his back on the water hole and walked away. Krystel and Williams exchanged a glance, and moved off after him.
Corbie and Lindholm strolled unhurriedly after Megan DeChance as they left the melting forest behind them and headed out over the broken plain. The esper was some way ahead of the two marines, and the gap was slowly widening. DeChance glanced back over her shoulder, her face set and grim. She was tempted to order them to walk faster, but she had a strong feeling they’d just ignore her. Technically, she was of a superior rank, and the Captain had specifically put her in charge of the group. But none of that mattered a damn; Megan DeChance was an esper.
Espers had a contradictory status in the Empire. On the one hand, their powers made them invaluable servants, much sought after and prized. But those same powers made them officially sanctioned pariahs, feared and detested by those in authority. Espers were conditioned from their earliest childhood to know their place; to be meek and obedient and cooperative, and never, ever, to challenge authority. Those who had trouble learning these lessons found them brutally enforced. All espers carried some scars, physical and mental. They were second-class citizens, tolerated only because they were needed. Every esper dreamed of escape, but there was only one sanctuary from the Empire, and that was the rebel planet Mistworld. Getting there was a long and dangerous journey, and only a few ever made it. Megan DeChance hadn’t even got close. Which was possibly why she’d been allowed to join a Hell Squad instead of the body banks.
Corbie didn’t give a damn about espers, one way or the other. He didn’t trust them, but then Corbie didn’t trust anyone, including himself. If you don’t trust anyone, they can’t let you down. As for the esper’s authority, if she didn’t push her luck, he wouldn’t either. He was in no hurry to get to the alien city. Let the Captain and his team get there first. They had the Investigator.
He looked disinterestedly around him as he strolled along. The plain rose steadily before him, and then fell away again. Banks of pale red clouds sailed majestically overhead, clashing gaudily with the green sky. The ground was hard and unyielding under his feet, and covered with endless cracks. Corbie supposed he must have seen a more desolate landscape somewhere before, but he was damned if he could think when.
They’d just crossed the high ridge when a low, rumbling sound suddenly broke the silence and the ground shifted slightly underfoot. Corbie and Lindholm stopped dead in their tracks and looked quickly around them, but the wide-open plain below was bare and deserted. Megan DeChance hurried back to join them, and the two marines moved automatically to protect her with their bodies in case of attack. The ground slowly grew still, but the rumbling sound continued, growing louder and more ominous. Corbie dropped his hand to his gun and glanced at Lindholm.
“What the hell is it, Sven?”
Lindholm shrugged, his face impassive. “Could be building to an earthquake. You’re bound to have some earth disturbance with so much volcanic activity going on. It would explain why the ground’s so broken up.”
“It’s not an earthquake,” said DeChance slowly. “I’ve seen this kind of terrain before. This is geyser country. Keep watching. They should start spouting any time now.”
Almost as she spoke, on the plain below a jet of boiling white water burst up out of one of the cracks in the ground and fountained high up into the sky. The water roared like a wounded animal, a deep grating sound that resonated in rhythm with the shaking ground. The fountain seemed to hesitate at the top of its reach before falling reluctantly back to the parched earth. The cracked ground drank up the water thirstily. One after another, a dozen and more geysers burst up out of the ground, mud and boiling water flying up into the green sky at heart-stopping speed. The roar of the geysers became deafening. Corbie turned to ask DeChance a question, but the noise of the eruptions drowned him out no matter how loudly he shouted. In the end, he gave up, and just watched the towering fountains as they soared into the air. Finally, one by one, the geysers fell away and disappeared as the underground pressure that fed them collapsed. A light mist of water droplets added a haze to the air. The ground rumbled quietly to itself for a while, and then fell still.
“Impressive,” said Lindholm.
“Yeah,” said Corbie. “It’s a good thing we stopped where we did. If we’d been walking through that area when the geysers started spouting…” He shook his head quickly, and then looked at DeChance. “You’re in charge, ma’am. What do we do now? Turn around and go back?”
“It might come to that,” said DeChance. “But I don’t think so. Geysers usually spout at regular intervals. As long as we time it right, we should be able to walk right through the area while they’re quiet, and be safely beyond them before they spout again.”
Lindholm nodded slowly. “We’d have to time it exactly right. And even then, we couldn’t be sure. Those geysers were quiet until we approached. It’s possible our presence set them off. If that’s so, the timing of the eruptions might change as we move.”
“Unlikely,” said DeChance. “We just couldn’t see them until we topped this ridge. This area should be within range of the pinnace’s sensors. All we have to do is wait for the geysers to blow again, then patch into the ship’s computers, and they’ll give us the exact times.”
Corbie scowled unhappily, but held his peace. He’d have leaped at any excuse that would let him turn back, but he couldn’t give up while the others were still willing to go on. No matter how scared he was. The three of them stood together patiently, waiting for the geysers, and some twenty minutes later they blew again, filling the air with steam and mud and boiling water. After they died away, the ground shook and rumbled under their feet for a disturbingly long time before growing still. DeChance patched into the pinnace’s computers through her comm implant, and studied the glowing figures as they appeared before her eyes.
“All right,” she said finally. “The interval is twenty-two minutes. Then there’s only a few seconds before the rest start to go off. The geysers seem to be limited to one small area, and we can cross that in ten minutes easily. So, as long as we keep moving, we shouldn’t have any problems at all.”
“Oh sure,” said Corbie. “Just a comfortable little stroll, right?”
“Right,” said DeChance.
“And what if we’ve got it wrong, and the geysers don’t blow off at regular intervals, but just when they damn well feel like it?”
Lindholm smiled. “You can always say I told you so.”
Corbie gave Lindholm a hard look. DeChance looked away to hide a smile.
They waited in silence for the geysers to spout again. Corbie chewed the insides of his cheeks, and clenched and unclenched his hands. He hated having to wait. It gave the fear longer to build; more of a chance to get a hold on him. He watched Lindholm out of the corner of his eye, but Sven seemed as calm and as unmoved as ever. There were times, when his nerves were really bad, that Corbie thought it might help if he could just talk to someone about his fear. But Corbie was a loner, and always had been. He’d never found it easy to make friends; never wanted or needed them, really. Sven was the nearest thing he h
ad to a close friend, but Corbie couldn’t talk to him. What could a man like Lindholm, a career marine and ex-gladiator, really understand about fear?
And then the ground shook and the geysers blew, and there was no time for thinking anymore. DeChance waited until the last geyser had stopped, and then ran down onto the plain. Lindholm started after her, and then stopped as he realised Corbie hadn’t moved.
“Come on, Russ; we’re short on time, remember?”
Corbie tried to move, and couldn’t. The geysers were out there, waiting for him, waiting for the chance to kill him. He knew that wasn’t true. He knew he had plenty of time. But he still couldn’t move, still couldn’t run forward into danger. DeChance was already well ahead of him, running freely and easily, as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Lindholm was looking at him, puzzled and impatient, but a glimmer of understanding was starting to form in his eyes. Corbie looked quickly away, anger and shame burning within him. And then DeChance screamed, and everything changed.
Corbie looked round just in time to see the cracked and broken earth collapse beneath the esper. The ground rumbled and shifted under Corbie’s feet, and for one horrible moment he thought there was going to be an earthquake after all. The moment passed, and the geysers remained silent, but the esper had disappeared into a wide crevasse that looked to be a dozen yards long and still spreading. Corbie ran forward, with Lindholm close behind him.
“How much time do we have, Sven?”
“Plenty,” said Lindholm. “As long as we don’t run into any complications.”
“Like an esper with a broken leg?”
“Right. Think positively, Russ.”
They soon reached the gaping crevasse, and stopped at the edge to peer down into it. DeChance looked up at them, her face pinched and white with pain. When she spoke her voice was strained, but even.
“First the good news; I don’t think I’ve broken anything. The bad news is, my right foot’s stuck in this crack and I can’t get it loose. The really bad news is that there’s a geyser opening down here right next to me.”
“Take it easy,” said Lindholm. “We’ll get you out. There’s plenty of time. Right, Russ?”
“Yeah,” said Corbie. “No problem. Hang on, esper, and I’ll come down there with you.”
He clambered awkwardly over the edge, and climbed carefully down into the crevasse. It was a good eight or nine feet deep, and underneath the cracked surface the earth was a dry, brittle honeycomb. The esper’s right foot disappeared into the floor of the crevasse, swallowing up her leg almost to the knee. Corbie crouched down beside her and gently investigated the crack with his hands. The esper’s boot had sunk deep into the earth honeycomb, and the broken shards were pressing against the boot like so many barbs. The harder she pulled, the harder they dug in.
Corbie swore silently. Brute force wasn’t going to get her out of this, but he was damned if he could think of anything else. Time was the problem. Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it quickly. He glanced at the geyser opening next to the esper, and patched into the pinnace’s computers. Glowing numerals appeared at the bottom of his vision, giving him a countdown till the geyser spouted.
4:43.
“Get out of here,” said DeChance.
“Shut up,” said Corbie. “I’m thinking.”
“You can’t stay,” said DeChance evenly. “I’m trapped here, and there isn’t enough time for you to get me out and get clear of the other geysers. If you stay, we’ll all die.”
“She has a point, Russ,” said Lindholm. “There’s nothing we can do for her. Except give her an easy death, instead of a hard one.”
Corbie looked up angrily. Lindholm had his disrupter out and aimed at DeChance. Corbie drew his own gun. “That’s not the way we do things in the marines, Sven, and you know it. Now throw your gun down here.”
Lindholm looked at him thoughtfully.
“Dammit, Sven, throw the gun down here! I’ve got an idea!”
3:24.
Lindholm threw the gun down to Corbie, who caught it deftly with his left hand and tucked it into his belt. His face was beaded with sweat, not just from the heat of the geyser’s opening.
“All right, Sven; get going. We’ll catch you up.”
“Not a chance,” said Lindholm. “I want to see what you’re going to do.”
Corbie flashed him a quick grin, and then aimed his disrupter at the earth honeycomb a few inches away from the esper’s trapped foot. “Hold very still, DeChance. Don’t even breathe heavy.”
He fired the disrupter into the ground. The bright energy beam drilled cleanly through the earth, throwing broken shards into the air. DeChance tugged at her trapped foot. It moved a little, but remained stuck. Corbie tossed his gun up to Lindholm, drew the second gun, and took aim at the earth on the other side of the trapped foot. He fired again, and the honeycomb crumbled and fell away. DeChance pulled her foot free.
“Nice shooting, Corbie. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Good idea.”
He holstered his gun and helped her up out of the crevasse.
2:35.
Corbie scrambled out after her, and the three of them ran through the field of about-to-erupt geysers. DeChance was favouring her right foot, but still running strongly. The broken ground rumbled under their feet. A few wisps of steam rose from geyser openings. The earth collapsed suddenly under Lindholm’s feet, but he hurdled the opening crevasse and kept running.
1:07.
Corbie’s breath was burning in his lungs, but he forced himself to run faster. Lindholm and DeChance pounded along beside him. The ground shook and rumbled under their feet, and Corbie could almost feel the pressure building down below.
:41.
Corbie glanced back over his shoulder. They’d covered a lot of distance. The esper’s pace was slowing as she struggled for breath. Surely they were out of the field by now….
:01.
Boiling water fountained into the air a few yards to their left. The three of them kept running, and only a few sizzling spots hit them. More geysers blew off, spouting steam and water and boiling mud, but they were all well behind the running marines and the esper.
“I should never have agreed to join the Hell Squad,” said Lindholm breathlessly. “I was safer in the Arenas.”
“Save your breath,” panted Corbie. “You’re going to need it. We’re not out of the geysers yet.”
“Don’t you have a plan to get us out of this, Russ?”
“Shut up and keep running.”
“That’s a good plan.”
Behind and around them, the geysers spouted hundreds of feet into the pale green skies, but the marines and the esper were already leaving them behind.
We’re going to make it, thought Corbie incredulously. We’re going to bloody well make it!
He grinned harshly as he ran. This new world was just as tough as he’d feared it would be; but just possibly he was tough enough to deal with it. Another geyser blew off, some way behind him. He tucked his chin in, and kept running.
The sky was darkening towards evening when Hunter first saw the statues. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds, and the sky’s color was deepening from chartreuse to a murky emerald. Shadows crawled across the broken land as it rose steadily towards the clouds. Hunter slowed to a halt as the ground ended suddenly in a sharp-edged ridge, and he found himself looking down a steep slope at a plain some two hundred feet below. And on the plain, standing silent and alone in a semicircle in the middle of nowhere, were the statues. Three huge black columns, starkly silhouetted against the broken land. Dr. Williams and Investigator Krystel stood on either side of Hunter, looking down at the statues, and for a long time nobody said anything.
“Our first sign of civilisation,” said Krystel finally. “Captain, I have to examine those statues while there’s still some light.”
“Now wait a minute,” said Williams quickly. “If we waste time here, we won’t be able to reach t
he city before dark.”
“We wouldn’t make it in any case,” said Krystel. “It’s still a good seven miles away, and the sun will be down in less than an hour. We might as well make camp here as anywhere. Right, Captain?”
“It looks safe enough,” said Hunter. “But they could be just grotesque rock formations, shaped by the wind.”
“No,” said Williams flatly. “They’re statues. I can see details.” The other two looked at him, and Williams smiled stiffly. “I told you I had built-in extras. My eyes have been adjusted. My vision’s good up to almost three miles.” He looked back at the statues, and his smile disappeared. “I can see the statues in great detail, Captain, and I don’t like the look of them. They look … disturbing.”
Hunter waited, but Williams had nothing more to say. The Investigator looked at Hunter impatiently, but he avoided her gaze, refusing to be hurried. Krystel was right; they had to make camp soon, and this was as good a place as any, with the high ridge to protect them from the wind. The bare ground offered little in the way of comfort or shelter, but after a hard day’s walking Hunter felt he could sleep standing up in a hailstorm. He sighed once, quietly, and then led his team carefully down the steep and jagged slope to the plain below. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt this tired. The ground had been uniformly hard and unyielding all day, slapping sullenly against his feet, so that just the act of walking was difficult and exhausting.
The statues drew steadily closer, and Hunter tried to concentrate on their growing details, but other thoughts kept intruding. He hadn’t heard from the esper’s group in hours. He was sure they’d have contacted him if anything had happened, but still their silence nagged at his nerves. He didn’t want to have to contact them first; that might look as though he didn’t have any confidence in them to handle their own problems. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to get any sleep that night, no matter how tired he was, until he’d heard from them. He decided to wait until the sun had gone down, and if they still hadn’t contacted him, he’d try and raise them himself.