“What, the Ninja Turtles?”
Both Nina and Sophia sighed. “A lot of traditional art—not just in the Abrahamic faiths, but earlier ones like Babylonian as well—portrays cherubim as having four faces and four wings,” said Nina. “And often the legs of an animal as well.” She lit the nearest statue’s feet. “Although I’ve seen some medieval illustrations that show them standing on a wheel … or a bearing.” She crouched, seeing that the hooves didn’t quite touch the floor; the bottom of a sphere was visible in the narrow gap.
“They move?” Sophia exclaimed skeptically.
“Don’t sound so surprised—you’ve seen similar things yourself, in the Tomb of Hercules. The traps that were used to protect it from robbers.”
“Don’t remind me,” Chase muttered.
“I don’t see how,” said Sophia. “Those had machinery moving them. These are just sculptures. Even if those swords somehow turn, there’s plenty of room just to walk around them.”
“Dusty there probably thought that, too,” said Chase, gesturing at the nearer of the remains.
“Maybe he did—a hundred thousand years ago. Do you seriously think anything could possibly still be in working order after all this time?”
Nina extended a hand toward the statues. “You want to test that? Be my guest.”
“I think I will.” With a dismissive shrug, Sophia stepped through the entrance onto the metal floor. Nothing happened. “You see?” she said, turning to face Nina as she backed off a low step circling the room’s perimeter. “Absolutely nothing to—”
The chamber flooded with light.
Lightning bolts flashed across the room, crackling around the wings of the cherubim where they touched the copper-plated ceiling. Sparks crackled from the statues, a sharp ozone-like tang filling the air. With a hideous grinding noise, the blades began to move. The sculpted hands of the statues were actually part of the swords, turning at the wrists and rapidly picking up speed to form a circle of death like that of a spinning aircraft propeller—and then the statues’ arms moved too, swinging back and forth in scything arcs.
Another metallic groan, a great weight shifting—
One of the statues jolted out of the indentations its bulk had pressed into the floor over the untold centuries and advanced on Sophia. The others did the same, swords whirling.
Sophia gasped, about to run back to the entrance—then spotted something at the other end of the passageway. “Eddie!”
Chase whirled—to see silhouettes crawling through the low tunnel beneath the colossal statue.
The Covenant had found them.
THIRTY-FIVE
Get inside!” Chase shouted, pushing Nina into the chamber. She resisted, even as she saw the danger behind. “What about the statues?”
“They’re slower than bullets! Go on!”
They ducked around the corner of the entrance, Sophia running to the other side. The statues continued their grinding advance, sparks cracking from their wings where they brushed along the floor and ceiling, but at less than walking pace.
Their slowness didn’t make Nina feel any safer, though. There was an inexorability about them, a feeling that they would keep on coming until their targets were dead.
But how were they moving? What was making them work?
Chase leaned around the corner, firing the Browning. The first Covenant soldier, his movement restricted by the confined tunnel, had no chance to dodge, the bullet hitting his forehead. He slumped into the dirt, dead. The figure behind him rapidly scrambled backward, pulled out by one of his comrades.
“Eddie!” Sophia called, holding up both hands. He tossed her the Lee-Enfield. “How many are there?”
Chase saw movement on both sides at the other end of the bottleneck. “At least three.” All it would take was one of the soldiers to fling a grenade into the chamber to kill them all.
And there were other dangers, getting closer. “Uh, I think we should move,” said Nina, tugging his arm. Two of the statues were bearing down on them, the third angling toward Sophia.
Chase fired another shot at the nearest statue’s head. There was a ringing clang, a dent appearing between its frowning eyes as the bullet bounced off, but it was otherwise unaffected.
“Eddie, can you not waste bullets trying to kill the inanimate objects?” Sophia chided.
“They look pretty fucking animate to me!” He followed Nina as she ran around the outside of the room. The cherubim changed direction, tracking them, but did so without turning, the heads of the bulls now facing in the direction they were moving.
“They’re like bumper cars,” Nina said, looking up at the ceiling. Chase regarded her as if she had gone mad. “The way they work, I mean. The floor and ceiling must have different polarities—the wings complete the circuit and make them move.”
“How? And where are they getting the power?”
“‘Earth sky fire’—that’s what that inscription meant. It’s earth energy, it must be! All those things made of copper above the statue? They’re antennas, energy collectors—just like the ones we saw in Russia.” The Veteres had been able to harness the lines of energy running through the earth itself, using them to power crude but effective electric motors—in Antarctica to work the recording devices, here both to move the statues and to spin their swords. The blades themselves were aglow with an eerie blue light, suggesting to Nina that they had the same nigh-unstoppable cutting edges as Excalibur. “Keep away from the swords!”
“How ever would we manage without your advice?” said Sophia with understandable sarcasm.
They were almost at the chamber’s rear doors, and the metal bowls. Chase looked at the entrance. The Covenant troopers were still holding back on the other side of the tunnel, but he was sure they would be trying to find good sniping angles.
He saw Sophia crouch and lean around the corner to search for targets through the rifle’s scope—and the third cherubim’s blades getting dangerously close to her. “Soph! Watch out!”
Fear flashed across her face as she saw the threat and dived out of the chamber to land on the stone floor outside. The cherubim shuddered, then reversed direction, now heading for the nearest other person: Nina.
But Sophia was still in danger. Gunfire echoed up the passage, bullets chipping the floor as she rolled. She reached the opposite wall and threw herself back into the chamber—only for the retreating cherubim to change direction once more and head back toward her.
“They’re homing in on us!” Chase yelled. “How the fuck are they doing that?”
“I don’t know,” said Nina, seeing familiar symbols painted on the bowls, “but I know what to do with this!” She reached into her pack for the clay cylinder she had taken from the map room in Antarctica and pointed at the inscription around its top. “It’s the same words—‘The Song of the Prophet!’ We need to play it.”
“I don’t think it’s going to charm those things to sleep—and if you stand at that record player, you’ll be right in the Covenant’s line of fire!”
She quickly took in the positions of the cherubim, the speed at which they were moving … “Eddie, go back around to Sophia.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it!”
He reluctantly turned and hurried back around the room. “What about you?”
“I’m … gonna run right through the line of fire,” she said, trying to psych herself up. “Nothing to worry about!”
“What?” Chase stopped. “Nina, don’t—”
But she was already breaking into a fear-driven sprint across the chamber, passing in front of the closed metal doors. A volley of shots tore through the room as one of the Covenant troopers opened fire. Bullets smacked into the doors just behind her as she ran, fragments of metal spitting from the impacts. A piece hit one of the bowls, causing it to ring with a deep, sonorous note. Nina now knew exactly what the bowls were for, but put it to the back of her mind as she tried desperately to stay one step, half a step ahead of
the spray of gunfire …
It stopped. She was out of the shooter’s sight.
But the cherubim was still following her, screeching along on its giant ball-bearing “feet.” All she could think was that they were electrically charged, somehow in opposition to the human body. Like poles repel, keeping the similarly charged cherubim from demolishing each other with their spinning blades—and unlike poles attract. As long as a person was in the room, the statues would be drawn toward them. It wasn’t magic or malevolence: just magnetism.
Individually, the heavy, sluggish cherubim weren’t hard to avoid. But between the three of them, and their swinging, whirling blades, it became all too easy to get hemmed in. Spend too long in one place—such as at the doors—and you would be dead.
Chase reached Sophia. “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted to Nina.
“Wait, wait …” she called back. Her cherubim was still moving across the room …
It crossed in front of the entrance.
Nina ran back toward the doors. The colossus haltingly changed direction to follow her, animal faces leering. More gunfire came from the tunnel—
It hit the statue, bullets clanking against its legs and body.
She raced to the bowls and put the cylinder on the spindle, taking advantage of her new cover. As long as the cherubim kept moving in a straight line toward her, it would shield her from the Covenant’s fire.
But every second she stood there brought the whirling swords closer.
A shout from outside: Zamal issuing an order. With Chase and Sophia forced away from the chamber’s entrance, the Covenant soldiers could advance through the tunnel.
Chase backed around the perimeter, followed by Sophia. The purpose of the small step was now clear: it was just high enough to stop the cherubim from hitting the wall. “We’ve got to get back to the entrance.”
“Easier said than done,” Sophia replied.
“If we can stop ’em from moving …” He paused, staring at the top of the wings where they sparked against the ceiling—then aimed the Browning at one of them and fired. The bullet went straight through the copper sheets. More sparks flew, an electrical bolt sizzling angrily across the room, but the wing stayed in contact with the metal above.
“What are you doing?”
“Nina said they’re like bumper cars—so we need to cut their power poles.” One of the cherubim was close to the step, the other coming from the center of the chamber. He watched the nearer one, judging the grinding swing of its arms, the distance between the tip of the blade and the wall …
The cylinder was in place, the needle positioned at the top of the groove. Nina hunted for a clue as to what to do next. Simply spinning the turntable by hand wouldn’t work: if the bowls served the purpose she thought, the ancient recording had to be played at precisely the right speed. She looked back; the cherubim was getting closer.
And behind it, she saw shadows playing across the wall of the passage. Covenant soldiers were crawling through the tunnel. “Crap, crap, crap!” She tried to remember how she had released some residual spark of earth energy in the frozen city …
Metal gleamed through the dust and cobwebs. A contact—
She touched it.
With a reluctant creak, the turntable rotated, picking up speed. The copper cone amplified the clicks and hisses, the strange voice reciting the name of what was to follow …
Then the song began.
The haunting voice echoed through the chamber, holding a note in perfect pitch for several seconds … and one of the bowls began to hum as well, the same note ringing out with increasing volume, shaking off the covering of dust. It was responding to the singer’s voice, resonating. For a moment, Nina forgot about the danger, entranced by the purity of the sound.
Another sound reached her. A click.
Part of a lock. The sound of the bowl, vibrating at a very specific pitch and frequency, had caused something else to resonate, shaking loose.
“It’s a key!” she cried. “A musical key!” The note from the cylinder changed, the singer’s voice rising an octave—and the next bowl, smaller, also hummed with the same wondrous sound.
Music was not the first thing on Chase’s mind, though. “Nina, move!” he yelled. The cherubim was almost upon her.
She shrieked and leapt away from the bowls, running around the edge of the room. The moment she took her finger from the metal contact, the turntable wound down, the song’s note dropping and dying. There was another click from the door—but there were still another two bowls, two more locks to open.
“Oh, fuck this,” said Chase, glaring at the nearest cherubim. He had timed the movement of its arms—he thought. “Give me the rifle!” He and Sophia swapped weapons. She looked puzzled. “On three, run across the room! One, two, three!”
Sophia skirted the statue coming for her and ran across the chamber—as Chase threw himself into a diving roll against the curving wall.
The blade whipped past, barely missing him as the statue’s arm swung around—but he was clear, gripping the Lee-Enfield by its barrel and swiping the wooden stock at the cherubim like a baseball bat.
It hit the bottom of one of the wings. Sparks spat up—but the metal was bent back by the blow, no longer touching the floor. Cutting off part of the current.
The other wing was still in contact, though, and Chase was forced to jump clear as the sword swooshed back toward him.
But it was slowing, and the cherubim itself seemed to be moving more haltingly …
He ran to the entrance, seeing one of the Covenant troopers pulling himself clear of the tunnel, a second man not far behind. He flipped the rifle back over and fired. A bloody rosette exploded across the wall directly behind the first man’s head, and he collapsed. The two corpses now blocked more than half of the low tunnel. The other man fired a burst from his SCAR in response, the bullets sizzling past Chase as he retreated.
Nina’s cherubim was still grinding after her. She kept moving, trying to repeat the same trick as before. “Eddie! I need to run across the entrance—can you give me cover?”
Chase pulled back his rifle’s bolt to load the next cartridge, aware that the sparking cherubim was getting uncomfortably close. He backed away. “Not with this thing coming at me! Sophia?”
She was edging away from her own statue, the Browning raised. “Do it fast.”
“Okay, get ready,” said Nina. The cherubim drew closer, off to one side of the line of fire. “Ready, ready … now!”
Sophia whipped around the corner as Nina ran across the entrance behind her. Seeing the man in the tunnel raise his SCAR she fired—but the bullet hit only the corpse he was sheltering behind. Sophia jerked back as another burst splintered the stone wall.
One of the cherubim was almost on Sophia—and the only way she could get clear of its blades was to run across the opening.
Into the trooper’s sights.
Nina paused, waiting for the cherubim pursuing her to cross the room’s centerline—then sprinted back toward the doors. The metal figure jerkily changed direction to follow. She had her shield.
But would she have long enough to play the rest of the song?
She slapped her hand on the metal contact. The turntable rotated again, the unearthly voice rising in pitch as it reached full speed. Again, a sustained note filled the chamber, the third bowl starting to hum in sympathy …
Chase saw that Sophia was about to be pinned down. His own cherubim was blocking the way to the entrance; he couldn’t give her any cover without making a wide circle around it. “Sophia, move!”
One of the statue’s arms swung at her, the blade slicing through the air at chest height. She hesitated—then dived toward it.
She rolled, passing just beneath the quicksilver slash to land at the cherubim’s feet. She swung the gun at one of the copper wings—
Crack!
A blue spark burst from the metal as she touched it. Chase had been insulated by the rifle’s woode
n body; the Browning’s metal frame gave Sophia no such protection. She was thrown away from the cherubim, sprawling across the metal floor several feet away. Unconscious. Her gun skidded away to stop in front of the entrance.
Nina looked around but couldn’t move, her fingers pressed against the contact. A clunk from the wall as the harmonic vibrations released another lock—but there was still one more note to play …
The cherubim advanced on Sophia. Chase swore: no choice but to run across the room to save her. He dropped the rifle and grabbed Sophia by one limp arm to drag her away from the lethal circles of steel.
The damaged cherubim was still following him, more slowly than Sophia’s statue. Chase dragged her in a curve, trying to guide them into a collision.
The blades almost clashed together—and then the two statues lurched apart, repelling each other.
The damaged one was in the lead. A sword tip clipped the Lee-Enfield, slicing it in half and sending the pieces spinning across the chamber.
The fourth note began. Nina didn’t take her eyes off the advancing cherubim as it drew closer.
Behind it, she saw more shadows on the walls as the Covenant members advanced.
Chase was running out of room, backing toward the wall, pulling Sophia with him. Whether he went left or right, the undamaged cherubim would round its slower companion to form a wall of spinning death. With Sophia down it was three against two. He needed to even the odds.
A way came to him.
He pulled Sophia against the wall, then rapidly shrugged off his leather jacket, holding it up like a matador’s cape … then tossed it to the floor directly in front of the lead cherubim.
It landed flat, the swords scything over it as the statue rolled on. The bent wing passed over it, the tip of the other for a moment snagging on the leather and pushing it along—
Then running it over.
The result was instantaneous. The cherubim stopped abruptly, the circuit broken, the earth energy feeding the crude motors cut off.
And with the power removed, so was the statue’s electrical charge.