Do Unto Others-ARC

  Caron found herself dragged back, and the whole team ran and ducked into an access corridor. Bart closed the door and stood before it. Aramis moved a couple of meters further down and faced any potential threats.

  Alex said, "Talk to me."

  Elke said, "The door is barricaded solidly, as if sealed against a breach. It looks like the entire mine has been locked off from any contact with the rest."

  "Can you blow it?"

  "Alex," she said, looking very serious, "I can breach it, but I don't know what is on the other side. The monitors read atmosphere, but that could be false. Someone spent the time to manually lock this down against attack or disaster. I'd need fifty kilos to break enough bars to defeat it, and that's very detectable, very dangerous, and seems to be what they're expecting."

  "Right," he acknowledged. "Jason?"

  "I wouldn't trust those monitors," he said. "They only show pressure. It's about normal, but I have no way to compare, and as Elke says, it could be a trap."

  "Can we get any confirmation?"

  Caron said, "There are easily removable panels on the outside, to allow for rescue in case someone is trapped. They take common wrenches."

  Alex looked at her and seemed a little surprised.

  Remember me? She thought. Part owner, involved in the design as a student, and with a degree in engineering?

  "I guess we have to go around, then. Suggestions?"

  Ontos said, "There are tunnels we can take."

  Caron said, "You mean the power conduits?"

  "Yes, but not just power. They run from the reactor, but also between the two pits. It was easier to tunnel through than run cables across the hole, for the far side. Once it was deep enough, we ran power across and around in the daisy chain, but the old feed is still there as backup."

  "How will you get the miners through for our distraction?"

  "Either the same way, or we'll just defeat the door the hard way. I don't think you're getting out of this without making a mess at this point."

  Elke said, "I don't think we are, either. Keep the masks handy."

  Alex got that thoughtful look again. Caron was amazed at how fast he could solve these problems. She realized the underestimation went both ways. Their skill was as technical as her own, and required more intuition and faster resolution. What threats were where, and how did those change in response?

  Alex nodded to himself and said, "Ontos, show us where we need to go, any maps appreciated. You stay here and organize the breach. We'll tell you when."

  "Can do," the man agreed. "Follow me. I'll get you there and peel off."

  There was little point in hiding now. Aramis acted as point, behind Ontos, Bart brought up the rear, the rest in a box around Caron, and Alex constantly shifting around looking for threats. They passed very few people, all of whom did the wallslam of fear or respect. Aramis appreciated that. He'd glance them over, ensure they weren't hostiles, and keep moving.

  He wasn't real comfortable moving back down into the mine, but with no exit ahead, at least there would be somewhere to hide and reconsider if this didn't work. Tunnels. Aramis liked tunnels, always had since he was a kid. It was fun to crawl and to watch the depth. He suspected cramped quarters, a long passage and the risk of a toxic atmosphere would detract from said fun.

  They caught a slideway and marched briskly along, weapons half-cloaked but still visible if anyone took a good look. Either the word was out or the miners didn't care, or perhaps thought they were some kind of security. Hell, maybe it was their presentation that caused people to assume they were legit. However it worked, they were unmolested as they traversed the surface building to the far end. They didn't pass many people, anyway. It seemed that the labor leaders were following through on their invitation to create trouble, because there were few at work.

  Ontos led through a series of turns and to what could charitably be called stairs—they did have railings and one could walk down face first, with the superstrong metal mesh see-through enough to cause acrophobia as they descended around a cable trunk. Ontos galloped ahead, taking flights in three bounds.

  "Slow down!" Aramis said, and glanced back as he hit a landing with both booted feet. It shook, probably as it was designed to, but enough to make him clamp down on his sphincters. This was already very not fun. He clutched at his weapon in lieu of the railing, because intellectually he knew this structure would easily support him. That didn't affect his knowledge of gravity, cheap labor, and a de facto owner/manager who really hadn't cared.

  The others were in good order behind him. Caron seemed comfortable enough with the structure. Elke stared straight ahead and navigated with sure feet and a hand on the rail. Jason seemed okay, a trifle tense. Alex was pale. That was all he had time for because they were catching up quickly.

  He resumed bounding after Ontos, who had slowed his leaps to something a normal person could rush to keep pace with. There were occasional side access hatches that were all secured and didn't seem to have been messed with recently. Good.

  The bottom became visible, which took some strain off Aramis.

  A few minutes later he reached bottom, and stared up at an optical illusion of square-spiraled mesh, pipes and rails. The others were seconds behind, and he remembered he was supposed to be point. Ontos stood at the hatch, one hand on the access pad, one on the pressure handle, waiting for a signal.

  Aramis held up a hand, Ontos acknowledged by eye, punched a fast code, and stepped aside. Aramis looked through the small port and saw the tunnel they were to take. It was dingy fading to dark, but seemed safe enough.

  As boots clattered around him he said, "Elke and Jason will need to clear entrance and route."

  "On it," Jason said, squeezing in front and holding up something technical while Elke raised a camera with a weird fisheye lens.

  She said, "I'm first. Crack it."

  Jason stepped back from the sweep of the hatch, slapped the handle in such a way to lever it down, and pressed with his carbine to open it a fraction.

  After a bare hesitation, Elke yanked it wide, counted five in Czech under her breath, swung around the door, paused and eyed all around, then stepped out.

  "Safe," she advised. "Come on through."

  Aramis decided to move to the rear as the rest filed in. He ducked through behind Bart's bulk, and yanked the door closed. He pondered breaking the mechanism, but they might need out this way. Anyway, they had weapons and stealth. They'd be fine.

  The air was breathable, but had a tang mixed of sulfur, petro chemicals, bare traces of ammonia, and ozone. The only discernible noise was a loud power hum. It was lit by periodic led tubes. The walkway was an aluminum grating that disappeared into a perspective point, along with the walls and the low roof. It was two meters tall, with the lights and other accessories depending from the roof, as well as the center-mounted power trunk. Bart would not be able to stand.

  Alex asked, "So this will get us to the old pit? Number One?"

  "Yes, and from there the long way to the reactor, then the short jaunt to the dome."

  Jason asked, "How long is the first leg?"

  "Five kilometers. It's a crawlway only. No tram."

  "Then we use vehicles around the pit. How obvious will that be?"

  "Not tremendously. There's still surface mining."

  "Good. And there's a tram from Number One to the reactor?"

  "Yes."

  "Tell me about the reactor."

  "Largely automated pressure vessel, remote control room, lots of clearly marked corridors. You'll have to work around the crew. Wait until night and it's only operators, no maintenance or overload crew for the dome."

  "Is there a tram to the dome?"

  "Yes, but it's a maintenance trolley and monitored. They'd wonder who was on it."

  "That's about another five kilometers, right?"

  "Forty-seven, twenty-one meters."

  "Got it."

  "I'll be peeling off in two hundred meters and taking anoth
er hidden passage."

  "How many of those are there?"

  "Lots. Wherever was convenient due to bubbles, caverns, erosion, gullies that could be sealed over, dead cuts, whatever."

  "And all this in a decade?"

  "Less. It takes claustrophiles to work a mine, and most of them weren't supervised as long as the ore moved. Nor did the supervisors care. Effectively unlimited resources made it easy. We should be moving, not talking."

  "Right." Alex pointed.

  Elke moved ahead in a measured pace with sensors over her eyes and in hand. She gave a signal, and Aramis waited for her to move five meters, then took second position. The rest boxed up tight around Caron, mostly behind her against possible attacks from the rear.

  Elke had to cant her head slightly with the space available. Aramis was crouched over and knew it was going to hurt if it went on long. He didn't want to look at poor Bart. It must suck for him.

  The noise was steady. The fumes and noxious smells got a little stronger but not overpowering.

  He wondered about those. Logically, the access corridors should be either vacuum or pressurized. Pressurized with breathable air made sense to simplify access for maintenance, and to provide an emergency supply. As long as it tested safe, a low-level of contamination wasn't a serious issue. The question was, how hard was it for someone to contaminate it to stop them, if they wanted?

  Given the fairly substantial volume, he figured it would take a dedicated weaponized agent or an extremely powerful industrial vapor. They should be safe enough.

  Ontos clambered between two supports and under the cable trunk, waved as he did so and disappeared. Aramis hopped over to follow him, but couldn't find any sign. He didn't have time to pursue it and it wasn't on the agenda, so he shrugged and resumed his position.

  They moved at a steady walk, and Aramis resumed splitting his attention between potential threats, and map and technical analysis.

  That's when the lights went out.

  Bart was in the rear when it went black. He turned at once against any threats, and considered dropping off the catwalk to gain some maneuver room. However, he was also needed as as a bullet catcher. The tactical decision between moving offense and being a portable heavy metal collection device was a complicated one. For now, he stayed where he was, with his pulse racing.

  He didn't have any night vision, but Vaughn did. He heard, "Well, I don't see anything in passive, but there's so little light from monitors, and so much thermal from everything else I can't say. Alex, should I risk a source?"

  Then the lights came back on. Bart blinked to recover. No apparent threats.

  Miss Prescot said, "Do you hear that click? It was a power transfer glitch. Some minor inconsistency in output and the light circuit cut out to prevent damage."

  Vaughn said, "Concur. Power conditioning fluctuation."

  Marlow sighed tightly. "Move on."

  Their steps were soft enough. The metal mesh trembled but didn't clang. They moved at a steady pace. Almost 5000 meters was 5000 paces, possibly ten percent more given the tight confines. Forty-five minutes would be a good time. Forty-five minutes in a flushable tube with no real cover, with Bart bent over and almost shuffling sideways. It got stuffy and cramped and the background hum became almost disorienting.

  The unending straight tunnel was one of the creepier movements Bart had made, but apart from the light failure, nothing untoward happened.

  Approximately two kilometers in, the catwalk just ended. Elke gingerly stepped to the cut floor and moved forward.

  By the time he got there, Bart already knew from cues it would be a bit slippery. Whatever machine had cut it had done a clean job, then dust and particles settled on the surface, which was angled. They had good footwear, but were still cautious. Especially as Ontos hadn't mentioned that.

  He was still nervous from Ontos' disappearance followed by the lights. It seemed to be purely coincidental, but could they be sure? Though there was nothing to be done right now.

  There was debris from a roof collapse. It looked moderate but just the idea was nerve-making. The equipment could survive a collapse, probably. They could not.

  Another kilometer, slipping and stumbling, and the catwalk resumed. Apparently construction went from both ends and it hadn't been finished yet, if it ever would be. He expected Miss Caron would have some words about that, though, if this worked out.

  It was more than an hour before they reached the far end. He ached and his ears rang from the power hum, and he sweated from exertion and stress. He wasn't claustrophobic, but channeled threat zones bothered him a lot.

  Elke and Jason cleared the door visually and then with sensors, popped it open and stepped through. Bart was only too glad to close behind them.

  Buggies. One of those would carry them all, and they needed to get around to the far side of this pit, which would be about 35 kilometers at this depth. This was the long way around indeed.

  Jason picked one at random, checked the charge and the backup fuel cell, gave a wave and climbed in. The others were in perimeter and collapsed in with Miss Caron in the middle. Jason switched to RUN and started rolling as soon as Bart slammed his door. There was an automated airlock, since this was only a service tunnel and not a real access to the mine. Outside was dirty yellow, but clear enough not to need lights, which was good. How visible would they be and would they be contacted, though?

  Chapter 27

  Jason did not like the mining pit. The evasion options were few. It was just steep enough he might try to blast down a level. He was pretty sure they'd survive mostly intact. He couldn't swear the vehicle would. There was no up. That left a very little zigzagging and hoping for poor marksmanship as defensive measures. Otherwise, speed or mass would win if the enemy was stupid enough to use a smaller or slower vehicle.

  Given the alternative of walking it, he decided this would have to do. He moved steadily with minimal trail to avoid arousing any notice.

  Not only was this mine not much in use, but the atmosphere did have weather including rain, and the road was never intended as a permanent structure. It was blasted and graded enough for large trucks, or had been originally. It was well eroded, and this buggy was only intended for rescue operations or inspections.

  The mine was in use, though. Far below, a Brobdingnagian excavator two hundred meters high carved away at the wall. It looked like a toy from here, when it could be seen at all through the dust and swirling crud. Jason decided he should not be able to see it, and moved closer to the wall than the precipice.

  Kilometers long bucket conveyors hauled the crushed ore to the top and into a slime mixer. Only one mixer, not six for this pit. The bottom excavation couldn't be more than a kilometer wide, and they might get one more level with that monstrous excavator. They could switch to smaller ones after that, but it likely wouldn't be cost effective.

  Enough of that, he thought. He should stick to driving and threats, no matter how fascinating the engineering was.

  Elke next to him had a headset on.

  "We have been inquired as to our ID and work order number."

  "Hell, can we fake it?" He wanted to turn and look at Caron, but settled for a rough point over his shoulder.

  She said, "I don't have one handy. Is there a recent one in the comm or a note somewhere?"

  Elke said, "No paper. Apparently miners don't rate the import. I find no scraps."

  Jason said, "We play stupid. Don't respond."

  Alex said, "I don't see any other course. Stall them with half messages if they get belligerent."

  "They have been belligerent," Elke said. "We have been threatened with docking of pay."

  "Oh, anything but that," Aramis said. He did sound nervous, but probably for much more practical reasons.

  Jason goosed the vehicle.

  "Nothing to be gained by being slow. We've got twenty seven kilometers to go. I must compliment you on the size of this gaping hole, Caron. Very impressive. Moreso from the inside."
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  The vehicle bounced, then actually smoothed out at speed. The tristar wheels weren't sprung, but relied on low pressure tires and rotational effects over the terrain to balance the ride.

  "Center of gravity is a bit high," Jason muttered. "Not bad, but it could be lower."

  Caron overheard and said, "It would take a wider wheelbase. I'll certainly suggest the idea, though."

  "Please do." Were they actually discussing product improvement while fleeing for their lives?

  They rumbled forward. The vehicle ran off capacitor banks, so that sound was all road, or in this case, track and dirt noise. Jason leveled off at 50 kmh, which would get them there in another eighteen minutes.

  Elke said, "They have responded. Two vehicles are going to attempt to intercept. Profanity is frequent. I expect this happens on occasion when someone is pissed off."

  "Where are they coming from?" Jason asked. His shoulders were aching from pushing the controls. There was no way to automate it, nor would he under the circumstances, but he was driving what amounted to a construction truck at high speed in rough terrain on a cliff ledge in poor visibility.

  "One above, one below. I don't know what tactics they plan to employ."

  She looked over her shoulder at Caron, who replied, "I don't know either."

  Bart said, "There is also a pair of pursuit vehicles behind us."

  "I guess we got their attention. So much for discretion." He edged the speed up slightly, but this was skirting what he felt was unsafe. They bounded over rocks and slipped on the looser soil. Underneath was firmly compacted, but the top had regular dust settlement and spills, debris falling off trucks, and probably some tossed by blasting or other work.

  Movement caught his eye to the left and high.

  He said, "Landslide. Shiiiit!" and started braking.

  Elke's voice echoed tinnily. "Drive faster," she said. "I timed this. Emplaced charges."

  "Faster, roger," Jason said and stomped the accelerator. His nerves and hindbrain absolutely didn't believe that was true, but this was Elke. If she said she knew how long the collapse would take, he was going to trust her. And when the hell had she gotten charges up there? Of course, she excelled at anticipating uses for explosive, so . . .