“Of course!” It was the only answer and DaemonS almost kicked herself for not thinking of it. The former occupants must have blocked off the rest of the facility. Presumably the laboratories were behind this metal mound of desks and cabinets. “Let’s shift it people.”
They tried prying parts from one side, then the other, but it was too heavy and the parts too well interlinked. In the end, they managed to climb partway up and topple it using their legs and the leverage they could gain from the walls. The tiers of cabinets crashed to the floor, revealing more rooms and the remainder of the corridor, extending down a staircase into the dark.
As they began searching the new area, Pincer called out from a storage locker. “Here’s something interesting.”
“What did you find?” DaemonS asked, coming up behind the small woman.
“An old handscreen,” Pincer answered, staring at a small display on the hand-held box while swiping her finger across the surface. “Still functional.”
“Anything useful?”
“Hard to say. There’s something here about the facility though,” Pincer said.
“Oh?”
“Looks like some research notes: Bruuz biochemistry, Bruuz physiology, Bruuz genetics. Daem, the research center was for....”
“Studying the Bruuz. Yeah, I got it. Might as well keep that reader, it might be useful, or at least saleable, if we ever get back. Anything else?”
“Nothing interesting from me,” said Vorpal, exiting the final room.
“Then let’s move on.”
They continued the short distance through the darkened corridor before stopping in front of a large double door on the end wall. It was pulled open, presumably by their teammates, but it gave them pause anyway. Beside the door, a pile of bone-filled lab coats shimmered in the faint sunlight that streamed through a broken window near the ceiling. Any odor of rotting flesh, as with any flesh at all for that matter, had long since departed. Steeling themselves, they pushed on.
Beyond the doors they found not laboratories, but another small room.
“An elevator!” Vorpal was the first inside, followed by Pincer. DaemonS took a last look, then joined her teammates.
The rectangular metal cage descended down a long lightless shaft before coming to a sudden rest. DaemonS stepped out onto a sweeping iron platform with a new awareness that the Asbestos research center was much larger than she had first thought.
Before her, the wide platform curved to either side in a large semi-circle and three short stairs descended to what seemed to be the main level. The well-lit room was several stories high and half as wide itself as the entire floor above. Flanking the center of the room were a pair of caged high-energy coils, one on either side of the central stairway, stretching from the floor to the ceiling high above. Bright blue arcs of electricity crackled and snapped around them.
“I think someone’s home,” Pincer whispered.
“I think you’re right,” DaemonS answered. “We’d best be on guard until we know more.”
“I wish we had some real weapons,” Vorpal said.
The trio descended to the main level where a wide corridor stretched into the distance before them, curving to the right. Behind them, only darkness was visible under the landing platform.
“Well, ladies. Shall we enter the dragon’s lair?”
“I don’t see that we have many options,” Pincer said. “But I’d feel happier with something in my hands. Preferably something with a full fuel cell that spit seven kinds of death.”
“I’m for that,” DaemonS said, as the three headed toward the corridor.
Suddenly, Vorpal rushed to the left, along a wall leading to one end of the platform. “Look what I found,” she said, stooping where the light met the shadow.
“What is it?”
Vorpal said nothing, but stood before rushing back. As she reached them, they saw she held a weapon in hands, caressing it like a long-lost lover.
“Gauss gun,” she said, showing them the rifle. “Three-quarters charge.”
“Great! That’s one of us that won’t be a sitting duck,” DaemonS said. “Stay to the shadows and cover us from behind. That way whoever is here won’t know we’re armed.”
“Agreed.”
They followed the curve of the large tunnel as it gently sloped downward before opening into a square room. In the middle were two support pillars, one on each side. Behind each pillar was a short incline that led to another corridor.
“Maybe they were psychologists,” Pincer ventured.
“What?”
“The scientists. Maybe they were psychologists, because this is beginning to feel like a rat’s maze.”
DaemonS chuckled. “I know what you mean. Any of you mice have an idea which way to go?”
“None,” said Pincer. “I think this is a decision for the big cheese.”
DaemonS gave her a smile of mock gratitude before choosing. “Well, since they both look the same, why don’t we take... this one,” she said, pointing to the left. Vorpal hung back as Pincer and DaemonS led the way.
The short corridor descended steeply before jutting ninety-degrees to the left. It narrowed, leading them between two small generators before it opened again.
“You feeling hot, Daem?” Pincer asked above the faint thrumming of the machinery behind them.
“Yeah, it’s getting a bit humid, isn’t it?”
“And the walls are looking like....”
“... we’re climbing through something’s intestine?”
“I was going to say throat, but yeah. Almost seems like they have a thin layer of skin.”
They continued forward, cautious now, each footfall soft, ears focused on the slightest sound. The humidity thickened with each step as they reached another ninety-degree elbow in the tunnel. This time to the right.
They edged around the corner as Vorpal rushed forward to keep them in sight. She needn’t have bothered, however, as DaemonS and Pincer didn’t go far. A few meters before them, the corridor ended, opening into a huge room.
“Oh my god,” Vorpal whispered, as she came up behind them.
“I don’t think God’s in the house anymore,” Pincer whispered back.
The corridor led onto a short path that descended to the center of the room where it ended at a dais suspended in the air by what appeared to be four tubular appendages stretching down from the ceiling. Another path directly across from them sloped up to a ledge against the far side of the cavern, while a third path curved from the dais to the bottom. DaemonS could just see a narrow channel traveling along the left and across the far side of the room.
What was most disturbing about the room was not its layout but rather its structure. No longer duracrete like the rest of the building, the floors and walls looked soft, almost fleshy.
The three Cowgirlz moved forward, stopping just inside the room. The humidity was stifling. DaemonS twisted to take in the entire area and noticed the black — dare she think it — veins, on the wall behind them. They spread from another entrance below the Cowgirlz and traced their way up to where they met at three glowing ovals set flush into the center of the ceiling. The ovals pulsed a faint yellow light, rhythmic, regular, almost as if they were breathing. Otherwise, the room seemed empty.
With utmost caution, DaemonS stepped down the ramp to the dais.
“Daem?” Pincer whispered, her voice filled with concern.
DaemonS motioned with her free hand for the others to stay back. She heard the faint release of a safety and felt a tiny bit better knowing Vorpal was covering her back.
The floor was oddly solid beneath her feet despite its organic appearance, almost as if a layer of skin had grown from the duracrete structure itself. Starting her descent to the lowest level, DaemonS motioned the others to follow her from a distance. It was clear that, despite the unusual modifications, there was no one else in the room.
As her foot left the ram
p, the sound of gunfire lacerated the quiet.
DaemonS tensed, ready to sprint away from a possible ambush.
“What the h...,” Pincer began, before Vorpal motioned her to silence. The sniper pointed to a second exit, indicating the sound had originated there. DaemonS nodded, motioning her two teammates to join her. As they crept down the ramp, an extended burst of gunfire startled the trio. It was nearer this time.
DaemonS and Pincer crouched in a line beside the stairs while Vorpal selected a spot behind, where she had a clear shot at the door. And then they waited.
More gunfire and the unmistakable eruption of a pulse sphere.
“Daem,” Pincer began, “maybe we should....”
“Hold,” DaemonS whispered. The firefight was almost on top of them. “Ready, Vorpal?”
“Safety’s off, corridor sighted.”
Silence fell again, only to be disturbed by a low rumble that grew with increasing proximity.
“Move, move, move, move, move,” came a familiar voice and moments later Bodybag burst into the room, followed by Defcon tight on her heels.
“Bodybag!” DaemonS yelled, half standing before remembering Vorpal and the Gauss gun behind her. She dropped back to a crouch, feeling her hair stand on end as an electrically propelled projectile sizzled over her head. Something behind the pair dropped.
“Move, move, move, yoos guys, this ain’t no circus,” Bodybag yelled, streaking past the immobile trio and up the stairs.
Defcon followed on her heels yelling, “Thanks for the save,” as the two fled past.
Without waiting further, DaemonS, Pincer and Vorpal turned and sped up the ramp, following their teammates.
The five raced through the narrow corridor, tracing their path back to the elevator room.
“Quick, we can take the elevator up and out,” DaemonS shouted.
“Dey be too fast,” Bodybag yelled, “pick us off while we ride. Dis way,” she said, sprinting into the dark beneath the platform as a flurry of bullets ricocheted off the wall beside them.
“Yoos guys got any guns?” Bodybag asked, leading them down a short, curving corridor that opened into the largest room yet.
They stood before a wide metal bridge that diverged around an observation portal before rejoining at the other side. The ceiling was cloaked in shadow and the floor sat far below, shimmering as if it was liquid.
“Only this Gauss gun,” Vorpal answered.
Bodybag tossed a pulse cannon to DaemonS, “Here, Daem. We picked up a few in our travels.”
She relayed it to Pincer. “You take it. Any chance there’s more laying around?”
“Jus’ a shield gun,” Bodybag said, tossing the smaller weapon over, before a flurry of bullets slammed into the wall beside her.
“What the hell are those?” Pincer yelled as DaemonS turned to see a trio of creatures straight out of her childhood nightmares. The monsters almost resembled bipedal lizards. Their extended snouts held nasty-looking teeth; each limb ended in fingers tipped with long, dirty claws; stubby tails dropped behind them, and their skin, a harsh brown, was covered in small lumps. Large bone spikes and horns, projected from different places in the side of their heads or off their shoulders.
“Donknow,” Bodybag yelled, as the Cowgirlz separated, diving to the sides. “But dey be nasty.”
Pincer launched a pulse sphere that erupted in the middle of them, scattering the monsters and knocking them to the floor. The nearest jumped to its feet, shrugging off the attack with a quick shake of its head. The others followed suit.
“An’ hard ta kill,” Bodybag confirmed.
DaemonS dropped to one knee, bracing herself, as she raised the shield gun. “Everyone across the bridge. I’ll watch your backs. “
“Daem, you can’t!” yelled Pincer.
“Get going!”
“There’s no reason to sacrifice yourself,” Vorpal argued. “We outnumber them.”
“No one’s sacrificing themselves. Now get going,” she said, triggering the translucent green hemi-sphere of energy. The power indicator on the self-charging battery pack dropped quickly. “You can cover me when you’re across.”
Artillery and energy pulses slammed into the barrier. None of them got through, but DaemonS staggered, driven slowly backward by the force of the bombardment. Already, the charge was below sixty-five percent.
The impact of multiple boots on the metal bridge was a faint distraction to the explosions echoing off the shield. She stood, half stepping, half staggering backward as she began her strategic retreat. The creatures advanced, keeping pace with her. Twenty percent.
“We’re across Daem!”
Excellent, only now the flaw inherent in the plan became obvious. The moment she dropped the shield to run, the heavy artillery would vaporize her. Of course, the problem would be solved shortly anyway, as the shield generator only had ten percent charge remaining.
“Come on Daem! We’ll cover you!”
There was no choice it was now or never. Keeping what remained of the shield between her and the creatures, she turned and ran — straight into the knee-high railing that surrounded the opening in the bridge. She tripped and was carried over the edge by her momentum.
The light and sound of the distant bridge died away as she fell into the pit.
15
The bottom, when it chose to meet her, was unexpectedly soft and DaemonS bounced several times as if landing on a stretched rubber skin, before coming to rest sitting up. A faint orange light from below illuminated the immediate area, but any hint of walls remained hidden in the darkness. She listened into the black surroundings, hearing only a muffled pulsing. There was no trace of any sound from above. The urge to call out, to try and summon the team, was almost overwhelming, but there was no telling what might be hidden beyond her sight.
DaemonS tried to push herself up, but her hand sank into the surface. Beneath her, the skin-like substance seemed semi-solid and cool to the touch, almost gelatinous. She pulled her hand out, shifting it to a new location, and tried to crawl out on her hands and feet but each appendage sank into the surface when she tried to push off. Finally, DaemonS lay flat on her stomach and rolled until she encountered an edge. She tried to squirm into a position where she could look over but lost her tenuous hold on the slick surface and fell.
A short drop and she slammed into the grating of a maintenance catwalk high above the floor. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room below, the details of what might have been, with some imagination, a weapons development facility came into focus. She could imagine the rough outline of machine bays, hoists, testing stations, but they were all covered in a pulsing brown skin that seemed to be innervated with thick veins. Tracing them back and up the walls, led her to realize the object she’d landed on was an immense blob, a spherical pool, suspended just below the ceiling. Hanging from that, suspended like a grape in gelatin, appeared to be a man. The eerie blank eyes of its face looked straight into her own. His body and skin still looked fresh, alive, as if he could step out and greet her — but those eyes were so empty.
DaemonS struggled to turn her gaze away, but as she looked past him, focusing deeper into the gelatin, she saw numerous other bodies similarly suspended; and then she saw, floating motionless amid the bodies, a rocket launcher. It was a nice prize, but was it worth the risk? While she debated, a distant catwalk lit-up with the flash of an electrical discharge. Moments later four forms streaked across the ledge, pursued by rocket bursts and energy beams.
The Cowgirlz! It seemed her decision was made for her.
She clamored to her feet, climbed over the railing and jumped, hoping that she wouldn’t instantly sink through the gelatinous blob and fall to the distant floor.
There was something surreal about flying through the air ten meters over the ground surrounded by the sounds of a gunfight. Whatever it was, however, was dwarfed by the surreality of plunging into an immense blob filled with
vacant-eyed statues. She needn’t have worried about sinking, however, as the gelatin turned out to be much thicker than expected.
The crackle and bang of artillery fire was dulled inside, replaced by the pounding of blood in her ears. When she managed to open her eyes, she could see nothing but diffuse light and vague shapes. Using her arms to pull herself through the substance, she ‘swam’ to where she remembered the weapon was. Nothing. Patting the surrounding area with her hands took more energy than she would have thought; it was like moving in slow motion or swimming through syrup. She felt nothing but the slimy gelatin. It must be deeper.
Already her lungs burned from the exertion as she struggled against the thick substance, but she dare not attempt to breath for fear of ingesting some of the strange material. Forcing herself on, DaemonS swam through the blob in slow motion until she finally felt the unmistakable solidity of a rocket launcher’s smooth barrel. Digging in a bit further, she managed to grasp the weapon, pulling it to her. Only now she realized the flaw in her plan. The only way out was down.
Orienting herself toward what she hoped was an outer edge, DaemonS pushed the weapon before her and kicked with her legs. Any movement was almost imperceptible but she fought on. The urge to breath was overwhelming now but she forced herself to resist. Where was the edge? Surely she should have reached it by now. Maybe she was moving in the wrong direction. Sudden visions of suffocating in the blob, her body forever trapped in alien gelatin, almost overwhelmed her.
She swam harder, fighting through the substance. She had to have air, but still there was no edge. Suddenly the cold grip of dead fingers wrapped around her leg. DaemonS gave a silent scream, lashing out with her feet, and the hand released. Reflexively, she opened her mouth, desperate for air. Instead, the gelatinous substance flooded her mouth, her throat, choking her.
In panic, she thrashed wildly, desperate to find an edge to the blob. Finally, one hand broke through and she kicked in that direction. Her head and second arm came loose and she pulled half of herself free from the pool before retching, spewing chunks of the gelatin from her mouth.
Game, Set, Deathmatch Page 17
