You’ve always been a sucker for a nice body and a pretty face, he told himself. That was all it really was, surely: straightforward lust. For money and for flesh. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate. The possibility that he had fallen in love with her.
These uncharacteristically warm thoughts were interrupted as a touch on his shoulder brought him back to consciousness. Blinking, he sat up in surprise. He had fallen asleep on the floor beside her. Scrambling to his feet, he adopted a defensive stance to confront the enemy. In the feeble light he made out a silhouette that was misshapen, lumpy, and short. He exhaled in relief when he saw that it was only Gwi. Their guide had finally returned to them, and his arms were full of clothes.
As he dumped them on the floor a sleepy Ingrid awoke, rubbing at one eye. “What is—Gwi, what have you got there?” While her eyes focused she found herself recognizing a particular familiar design.
“Doctor clothing, I think.” The San grinned proudly. “You say you will pretend to be a facility doctor and this Meld your assistant. To make your gambit work you will need appropriate dressing. Here it is.” He shrugged diffidently. “I hope they fit.”
Whispr gawked at the garments. “Where the hell did you get this stuff?”
“From the general Laundry.” He grinned. “High security is not considered necessary for the Laundry department.”
Wide awake now, Ingrid was fingering the all-white medical attire. The long overgown would certainly fit her. As for the too-big pants, she would just have to pull them up as high under the overcoat as possible.
Moving to the other side of the corridor Gwi slipped the fastener on a battered storage chest. It was half filled with maintenance materials that looked as if they had not been touched in years. Reaching within he rummaged around until he found a pair of small illuminating headbands. One he handed to Whispr, the other to Ingrid.
“It will not be sensible or convenient to take your own equipment with you. People might ask what a doctor and her assistant are doing inside the facility carrying dirty gear designed for walking in the desert. This is a good place to leave it.”
After removing his water bottle and some food bars and shoving them into the interior pockets of the white overgown he had selected, a reluctant Whispr deposited his pack and the rest of his supplies in the chest. Ingrid placed her own battered pack beside his and watched as Gwi closed and secured the lid.
Reaching up to pull off her filthy, grime-encrusted desert shirt, she found her companion staring at her. The more tactful of the two men, Gwi had turned away.
“Look, Whispr, I don’t have any particular nudity phobias, and we’ve certainly spent enough time in each other’s company, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stare, okay? Besides, you should be focusing on getting dressed yourself.”
“All right, sure. No big deal.” Moving over to the storage box he began stripping off his own dusty garb. Gleaming like square pearls, the neatly folded pure white medical attire Gwi had brought was slipped on in place of his old clothing. As he dressed he stared resolutely down the corridor and away from her.
Keeping his word as he finished dressing proved harder than crossing the Sperrgebeit.
When he finally finished and turned, the sight that greeted his eyes in the dim light stunned him. Standing in the corridor was not the hardened woman in whose company he had recently traversed Sanbona and the Namib. His thoughts sprang backward, all the way back to distant, dearly missed Savannah and a pristine modern doctor’s office in an expensive contemporary medical-codo tower. For the first time in a long while he again found himself in the company of Dr. Ingrid Seastrom, general practice physician and respected member of the Southeast Namerica Medical Association.
“You’re staring,” she said. “You promised you wouldn’t stare.”
“That was while you were naked and getting dressed.”
“You’re still looking at me like I’m naked.”
He started to say something, realized instinctively that he was likely to only dig himself a deeper hole, and simply nodded as he turned away.
Once more clad in the clean white garb of her profession Ingrid felt unaccountably confident. It was all she could do, however, to keep from laughing at Whispr. Designed to fit a Natural, his white coat hung like a shroud from his thin shoulders. Only a pair of clasps taken from his pack kept his pants from puddling around his ankles. He did not look happy. But then, she mused, that was a constant, a routine reflection of his personality. Snappier clothing would have done nothing to brighten his mien.
Gwi was also looking in her direction, but without the expected glint in his eyes. Impulsively, she grabbed their guide and kissed him. The young San looked startled. Whispr did not react at all. He had long since resigned himself to being Pluto to the sun called Seastrom.
“You’ve done so much for us, Gwi. You and your people. I—we—don’t know how to thank you.”
“You helped Auntie !Nisa. You are going now to try and help some young people like me. If you are lucky, sometimes in life you find a thing worth doing.” He turned to go. “Now I must leave and report in to my station. My friends will be glad to see me safely back.”
“Gwi, wait.” She put out a hand. “You’re forgetting the last thing. You have to show us where the research center is.” She gestured helplessly at their dark, dank, tunneled surroundings. “We’re underground and we don’t even know how big Nerens is. I don’t want to have to talk to anyone, to ask questions or directions, unless we have no other choice.”
He looked from her to Whispr and back again. “I don’t know where they do research here, miss doctor. I only know the sewerage system and a few other support areas, like the Laundry, that are involved with maintaining the lesser details of everyday life. I don’t know any scientists or engineers or technologists. You will have to find this research center on your own.” He was sympathetic but firm. “Even if it means asking questions of others.”
“Damn,” Whispr muttered. “I knew we’d hit a dead end sooner or later.”
“Don’t say that,” she told him. “I told you I’d find a way to pass myself off as someone who belonged here. I still believe I can do that.” She shrugged. “In any case, we have no choice. We’ll just have to try.”
“There is one thing I can suggest that may get you started.” Both of them turned back to their guide. “As you would imagine of any modern place located in the Namib, Nerens has very efficient means for controlling its climate. Here it can be very hot in summer and very cold in winter, especially at night.”
“Or belowground.” The physician’s overgown was all that kept Ingrid from shivering.
Gwi nodded. “There are many large pipings like those you see around us for moving warm or cold air. I have always thought it strange that so many run to the north.”
Whispr was puzzled. “Why would you find that strange?”
In the near darkness Gwi eyed him evenly. “I never know of anyone to go very far in that direction. Internal security is also very heavy in that direction. But if there is nothing there and not far to go, then why so much security? Sewerage pipes also go north, but once they reach a certain point none of us are asked to clean or check or repair them any farther. This seems strange to me, that only one part of Nerens should have its own sanitation system. Many service conduits go north, but to where?”
Ever cynical, Whispr had a ready explanation. “Maybe they don’t go anywhere. Maybe they just cycle back on themselves. Or empty out into a canyon invisible to environmental satellite scans.”
“Or,” an intrigued Ingrid proposed, “maybe they feed into a sector that’s off-limits to the regular staff because it’s a separate facility that’s important enough to justify its own discrete maintenance team.” She stared up at him. “For security reasons.”
He was shaking his head slowly. “I don’t like the idea of trying to crawl through a bunch of service ducts for who knows how far only to maybe come out in somebody’s bedroom an
d have them raise the alarm.”
“We don’t have to exit the crawl until we see where we are,” she countered. “From the start you’ve been skeptical about my ability to pass myself off as a member of the local staff. Here’s a chance to maybe avoid at least a few possible confrontations.” She turned back to the silently watching Gwi. “How long are the climate-control pipes that go north?”
“Don’t know,” the San told her honestly.
“You have no idea where they terminate or what lies at the far end?” Once again he shook his head. She turned expectantly to Whispr, who sighed resignedly. By now he had come to know that look all too well.
“We’ve come all this way to get to Nowhere. What’s a little more nowhere?” he added glumly.
“I don’t know what you’re bitching about,” she challenged him. “With your frame, moving on hands and knees through a conduit or a duct will be a lot easier for you than for me.”
“Can’t argue that.” He brightened slightly. “You go first.”
She made a face. “Like hell. You’re more sensitive to surprises and to when something’s not right. I’ll follow you.” She looked back at Gwi. “Show us one of these climate control ducts that runs to the north. The biggest one you can.”
Committed now, Whispr added. “Make it one that shunts air and not sewage.”
They hiked a good half a kilometer before their guide paused beside a suitable conduit. Since it was located deep within the Nerens complex, its service hatch was not security sealed. The diameter of the ductwork itself was more than large enough for them to enter it on all fours without banging their heads on the composite ceiling. Opening a small service box attached to a nearby wall, Gwi removed a pair of illuminands. Ceremoniously, he handed one to Ingrid and the other to Whispr.
“Goodbye, doctor. Goodbye, reed-man.” Gwi shook hands with each of them in turn. “I wish you luck and that you may find that which you seek. I will look for you here, at this spot, at the same time every day until a week has passed. If I do not see you back here by then …” His voice trailed away. “Thank you for helping Auntie !Nisa.” He indicated the beckoning open hatch and suddenly broke out in a wide smile. “If you had the San meld and could walk on all fours this would be so easy for you!”
“Thanks anyway.” Whispr spoke dryly as he checked to ensure that his full water bottle was still secure in a pocket. “But I’d rather bump my head a few times and be able to stand up straight at the end of the crawl.”
“Very overrated, standing.” Gwi was backing away. “One day I think I must have the full four-leg meld myself, when I decide it is time to return permanently to the land of my ancestors. And after you have paid me. But not yet. I wish you luck.” He waved once, and then he was gone.
Leaving a doctor and a survivor of Greater Savannah’s mean streets alone to contemplate the darkness ahead of them, the monotonous pizzicato of dripping water, and an open hatch in the side of a conduit that disappeared into the wall opposite. Whispr took a step backward, smiled thinly, and gestured at the opening.
“Ladies first.”
She stared him down. “We already settled this, Whispr. I’ll follow you. You’re so skinny I can see around you, whereas …” Her voice trailed away as the implication of her own words hit her. “Let’s get moving.”
With a shrug he put both hands on the sides of the opening and prepared to pull himself in. “What the hell; what difference does it make? We’ve had to swim, we’ve had to hike, we’ve had to fly. We’ve run on foot and traveled in boats and in cars. We even covered some ground inside a mechanical elephant. Not much we haven’t done but crawl.”
Once inside the conduit he placed the illuminand Gwi had given him over his head, tightened the band securely, positioned the front part against his forehead, and thumbed the integrated switch on the right side. The device promptly filled the black tunnel ahead of him with pale light. When Ingrid prepared to follow with her identical headband activated he tapped his own and instructed her to turn hers off.
“We don’t know how long these things will last. They have indicators, but that doesn’t tell us how fast their charges will deplete.” He gestured at her forehead. “Keep yours deactivated unless you absolutely need the light.” Reaching up, he tapped his own again. “If mine goes out, no matter where we are or how far we’ve gone we turn around and come back. We can always try again later.”
She nodded understandingly. “See, Whispr—this is why I let you lead in situations like this.”
“What, in sewers and air ducts? I’m so flattered.” Turning his head and aiming his illuminand forward, he began crawling.
The floor of the conduit was smooth, cool to the touch, and reassuringly dry. For nearly an hour they made good progress. After that they had to stop and rest frequently. Despite the protection afforded by their freshly laundered and newly acquired medical attire, knees and palms were beginning to abrade. In the confined space protesting muscles had started to cramp. From time to time they paused to share measured sips from their water bottles.
How many meters had they come? she wondered. Kilometers? How big was the facility at Nerens anyway? She thought back to what Gwi had told them. He admitted knowing nothing about what lay to the north beyond a certain point. What if this conduit had been angling deceptively to the west? It was impossible to tell for certain anymore which direction they were going. For all they knew the conduit ran all the way to the small servicing harbor at the coast. That lay more than a few kilometers to the west. Even if they managed to crawl such a distance by the time they emerged they would be lucky to have enough strength left to shout for help.
“Whispr, do you think we’re still heading north?”
He replied without looking back lest the light from his illuminand blind her. “How should I know? I don’t have a magnetic directional meld in my head and I’m not a pigeon. I think we’re still going that way, yeah. If I had my communicator …”
“Even if you had your communicator and could use it, internal security might pick up the emissions. You know that.”
“And that’s why I can’t tell you what direction we’re going.” He paused. “Hold up a minute.”
Her knees grateful for the halt, she sat down with her back against the side of the conduit. “I wish I had tea instead of just water.”
“I wish I had a magnum of Rogue River brut ’48,” he growled. “As long as we’re wishing.” He switched off his illuminand. Once again they were enveloped by a black as complete as the inside of a cave. “See that?”
“See what?” She was almost too tired to care if he actually was seeing something.
“Straight ahead.” In the darkness she could hear him moving to one side. “Past and in front of me.”
It took her eyes some seconds to adjust. Initially she thought it was an illusion. Crawling forward, not caring now if she was in front of him, she moved toward it. As she advanced, confidence in what she was seeing increased along with the number of photons striking her retinas.
“There’s light ahead. And I can hear something. Machine noise, I think. And voices.”
Had the conduit been a little bigger they could have advanced side by side. As it was he followed her as for the first time she took the lead. Having finally been granted his earlier wish, he now had no interest in pursuing it. The intensifying glow ahead and the increasing variety of sounds had fully captured his attention.
After all the arduous crawling they finally found their way blocked by a protective screen. Moving as close as possible to the metal mesh they started to peer through the gaps only to find they had to turn away because the light on the other side was so bright. It took their eyes a couple of minutes to adjust. When they were finally able to see where their efforts had led them Ingrid realized it was a good thing the screen had halted their advance. Tired and methodical as their long crawl had been, whoever had been in the lead might have stumbled right on through the opening at the end. That would have been awkward.
Because on the other side of the screen where the conduit terminated there was at least a hundred-meter drop to the floor.
12
“Oh … my.”
After all they had suffered, after all they had survived and accomplished, her reaction to the sight spread out before them on the other side of the conduit screen was more than a little inadequate. The climate duct did not open onto a research laboratory. At least, not onto anything recognizable as such.
What it did open into had to be what the frightened Morgan Ouspel had called “The Big Picture.”
Warmed or cooled air from the duct fed into an enormous chamber whose dimensions were so extensive that she could not see the far side. Pillars of metal and gleaming hospital-white composite rose from the floor far below to pierce the high ceiling. Tubing and cabling ran everywhere, as if the pillars were being squeezed by a thousand chrome snakes. Blobs of unrecognizable composition and purpose linked pillars and pipes. Though muted by masses of muffling synthetics, the music of live machinery echoed throughout the chamber: pounding, screeching, and humming, interrupted on occasion by the crackle of powerful electrical discharges. Not a single person was in sight. Kneeling beside her, a baffled Whispr could only stare.
“I’ll down Freddy’s firkin if they’re not making something here—but what?”
Try as she might Ingrid was unable to identify any of the machinery that was visible through the mesh, much less whatever industrial process was being carried out. And all of it hidden from the rest of the world deep beneath the “empty” Namib desert. No doubt the facility’s emissions were thoroughly blocked and secured from detection by passing military or archaeological satellites. Not that there would be any reason for any individual or company to run anything except a casual geoscan of this part of the world. And probably not even that since a discoverer couldn’t exploit a deposit or excavate a ruin found in the Sperrgebeit anyway.