Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

by Robert McCarroll

  "Wasn't that vent too small for us?" Jennifer asked. "I mean the second one." Crap.

  "Icerazor, you were here before, alternate entry points?"

  "Aside from the main shaft and the vent, there was the bucket lift feeding the old hammermill. The hammermill is now the guardhouse."

  "But we might be able to get into the lift shaft from the outside. Or at least can take a closer look." Ben began spooling up the rope. I planted a signal repeater inside the vent so I wouldn't lose my link to their network. "If we put the lid on, I won't have a signal at all, leave it off for the time being." The others nodded as we started slithering towards the cluster of buildings around the main entrance. We were very colorful snakes in the grass. The old hammermill had an angled structure jutting out of the back of it and into the ground. The main entrance lacked this distinctive feature. The third structure was a warehouse and truck filling station. It was fed from the hammermill by an overhead conveyor encased in a frame that made it look like a skywalk. The hammermill was the furthest from us of the three big structures.

  Watching the armed blobs of heat patrolling the barren slab of earth around the mine proper, I tried to spot a route devoid of complications. I didn't see any. Why did I go with the vent plan? I know, it was isolated, free from guards, and looked like the perfect back door. Now it came back to bite me. I could handle paying for my own mistakes, but knowing I'd sent someone else instead... I almost hit myself. No one else would have been able to hang upside down long enough, or fit through the second vent. But buying access to their network at such a high price... I shuddered. It wasn't worth it.

  "So," Icerazor said. "Does that look as inaccessible to you as it does to me?"

  "Even if we had all night, we wouldn't get past them unnoticed," I said. "Here's the new plan. We go back to the vent. When we're in position at the bottom of the shaft by the second vent, we signal the surface team. As they get the attention of the cultists, Miss Pain makes up a doorway through the precast concrete. We find Xiv and use our access to their security system to find Omicron."

  "That sounds awfully improvised," Jennifer said.

  "At this point, we have to improvise, even if it's just to get our teammate back." And we've wasted too much time as it is. We slithered back to the vent. "How well can you climb, Ben?"

  "Uhh, not that good."

  "Fine, we'll tie the rope around you and lower you first. When your feet are on the ground, we'll anchor this end and the rest of us will climb down." The others nodded and we started into this plan. With the top of the vent at chest height, I started to worry about the later people falling. "Before we do, Icerazor, can you shorten this pipe." He nodded, drawing his sword and slicing through the pipe close to where it emerged from the concrete. I rolled the galvanized steel aside and lowered it to the ground.

  "Oh, that looks much safer," Ben said.

  "Is is for those of us climbing in after you." His expression was understandably nervous as we tied off the rope. He double-checked the knot before lowering himself into the hole. The three of us were able to reliably hold his weight. I used my boot to keep the rope away from the now sharp edges of the vent pipe, planting my foot along the pipe and running the rope over the edge of the sole instead. Not the best plan, but I didn't want to shred our rope, especially with another sidekick on it.

  "This is a really tight space," Ben said over the comm.

  "Are you stuck?"

  "No."

  "Keep it that way."

  "I'll try, but I'm touching all the walls at once."

  "Don't tell me you're claustrophobic too."

  "Who's claustrophobic?"

  "If you were listening, Xiv certainly sounded like it to me." With that, we continued lowering Ben in silence. I think he stopped complaining, so he wouldn't appear more cowardly than a little kid. I knew he wasn't. If Ben were a coward, he'd have backed out when Cupric died. Of course, as Dad was so fond of repeating, courage wasn't the absence of fear.

  "I'm emerging into an open space. Wow, it's dark down here."

  "Just tell me when your feet find the floor."

  "I'm down." Our anchor was a reinforced carbon fiber X bigger than the size of the vent. It was impossible for it to fall down the hole at any angle. We tied off the rope to the anchor as Ben released himself from the other end. Of course, since it pretty much blocked the top of the vent, the person climbing down had to shift it into place as they entered. Having it slip while climbing was a recipe for a fall. Icerazor went next, shifting the scabbard to move the sword between his legs. Jennifer smirked at the unintentionally suggestive move. He pretended not to notice as he climbed in. Wedged in the pipe with one hand on the rim, he pulled the anchor into position and took up the rope.

  It felt like an eternity as he lowered himself into the vent. Free to wander, my mind went to Xiv's predicament. Pulling the signal repeater out of the severed length of pipe, I poked around on their camera views. Everything looked quiet. A few robed cultists wandering about, but no alarms and no panic. No sign of whatever happened in the lab. The worst thing is, I couldn't get a sense of layout from the cameras. All of the halls were made from the same materials, and tended to look the same. The cameras were poorly positioned to see any of the signage, making their relative locations a mystery.

  "I'm down," Icerazor said. I motioned to Jennifer, who shifted the anchor and climbed into the vent.

  "For once I'm glad I have narrow hips," she said. I'm not sure what she was talking about, as they suited the rest of her figure, but she was probably more critical of her appearance that I would be. A short while into the wait, there was a yelp, and a golden light appeared in the vent.

  "What happened?"

  "I slipped," Jennifer said.

  "And?"

  "I caught myself with a construct. But... I kinda cut the rope when I made it."

  "Just lower yourself down," I said. "I have my own rope."

  "Sorry, guys," Jennifer said. "I just made getting out a bit harder." the golden glow faded as Jennifer lowered herself down the vent. I climbed in myself, bracing my knees and back against opposite sides of the pipe. I planted the signal repeater at the edge of the now-shortened vent and affixed the grip plate from the line launcher to our existing anchor. Testing my weight on the line, I found it held fine. Standing stock upright, arm raised towards the sky, I played out the line. As I descended into the narrow shaft barely wide enough for my shoulders, I realized that without the glove, the line launcher would pull itself clean off my arm. Sinking into the ground, it dawned on me that it must have been much worse for the others. I could at least see in the dark. Though that wasn't much of a consolation as I had an excellent view of the filthy interior of the pipe.

  I emerged into the ruined chamber to the smell of air that seemed to suck all of the moisture from my sinuses with each breath. Boulders of concreted halite crushed twisted piles of rust that had once been mine equipment. I triggered the release of the grip plate and reeled in my line. "Can we turn on a light?" Jennifer asked.

  "Go ahead," I said. Jennifer created a diamond shaped construct that floated by her shoulder, casting a warm glow over the debris. The others relaxed noticeably as the darkness was banished.

  "I have never seen any place that dark before," Ben said.

  I pointed to the open vent. "That's where Xiv went. When the surface team is ready, I want you to open the wall just below it."

  "That is a small vent," Icerazor said.

  "Surface team, do you copy?" I asked.

  "You're a bit fuzzy," Ixa's voice said, the signal distorted by being bounced down a metal pipe.

  "Did you hear our revised plan earlier?"

  "Negative."

  "We're about to make some noise, so I need you to draw attention to the front door. I'll throw some false alarms into
their system for added confusion."

  "Copy," Ixa said. "And Stamp was quite pleased to hear it." I tapped out commands on my wrist computer, selecting alarm zones and types almost at random. I had no idea what any of it meant. I made a mental note to take a refresher course on physical security systems. As the first alarm started at the front door, I set the others off.

  "Make us a door."

  Jennifer threw a Greek column of golden light at the upper wall, smashing through the precast concrete with ease. Halfway in, it sprouted hooks and tore out the rest of the panel. As the debris rained down, she made a staircase. I took point, bolting up the stairs and delivering a punch to the dazed and bleary-eyed cultist whose bedroom we'd invaded. I was thankful that the days when a hero "wouldn't hit a girl" were over. I restrained her with zip ties as Icerazor and Ben stormed in. Jennifer took up the rear. "We're looking for Fourteen dash Zero Three B," I said, opening the door to the hall. The other residents of this part of the dormitory were starting to poke their heads into the hall to see what the crash had been.

  They were off guard, disoriented, and unarmed. Subduing them wasn't hard, just time consuming. Jennifer had the ends of the hall blocked off with constructs as the rest of us plied fists and shocks to bring down those which didn't just surrender and submit to being zip-tied. I didn't like the amount of time we were wasting mopping up sleepy cultists when Xiv and Omicron still needed to be found. Loose, however, they would cause more trouble later on.

  Once we had them restrained, I took one of those who'd surrendered and dragged him to his feet. "Don't hurt me, I'm just a cook," He said.

  "Fourteen zero three B," I said. "Where is it?"

  "Next hallway over, on the right."

  "And Omicron?"

  "I don't know, he keeps to himself, I don't know where they put him."

  "Do we believe him?" I asked.

  "I'm skeptical," Jennifer said.

  "That freak's not even one of us, I'm not going to risk my hide to protect him," the cook said. I looked back at the others and let the moment linger.

  "I believe him," Icerazor said. I dropped the cook. Motioning for the others to follow, I headed in the direction indicated. The next hallway over, I found the vent with an open inspection hatch. Looking around, my eyes fell upon the door. Reaching out, I turned the knob and eased it open. The lab looked pristine. All of the equipment sat in its proper place. In person, the tubes of failed subjects looked no more threatening than a fetal pig in formaldehyde. They were far more grotesque, warped amalgamations of man and dragon whom I could easily see shrieking, "I should not be" in-between begging for death. One otherwise unidentifiable misshapen lump of flesh bore an all-too-human face, his expression frozen in horror.

  Kneeling, I picked up the shattered remnants of the camera Xiv had been wearing. We spread out, searching the lab. Jennifer moved along the row of tanks, her morbid curiosity plainly written on her face. She checked the clipboards hanging from them as she went. "All of these have termination dates before the start of the year," Jennifer said. "Except fourteen and sixteen. Sixteen has no termination date. Fourteen is listed as... Today." I snatched the clipboard from her grip and read it over. Most of the information was written in a neat, cautious hand, listing details of the experiment, including the human donor, Zander Reeves. The termination date was scrawled in a bolder, stronger, blockier hand, and initialed "I.K. (Dr. O)."

  "Ivar Kazuk," I said. "Doctor Omicron."

  "Yeah," Jennifer said. "I read his bio, you don't need to remind me who he is."

  "Forgive me for being a bit insensitive," Icerazor said, "But if he terminated Xiv, where's the body?" I looked at the empty tank bearing the roman numeral XIV. "There's also no sign of a struggle here."

  "You're right," I said. "We have to keep searching." I borrowed the monitor from the PC to get a bigger display for my wrist computer and pulled up the internal camera feeds. Those on the surface showed the cultists having a heck of a time dealing with our team there. The regular guards were scrambling to target Nora, who barely appeared on the low frame rate of the feed. Two demi-dragons battled Jack and Pam, with a third already bundled up in glowing white chains of energy. "Surface team appears to be holding their own," I said, flipping through the feeds for any sign of Xiv or Omicron. One feed, almost two dark to see, was nearly dismissed in my haste. There was a pale blotch, a white coat? I fiddled with camera commands, trying to get a better image out of it.

  It was not one white coat, but three figures more distant from the camera than any other image. The camera was simply pointed at a dark void so large that its infrared illuminators failed to get a satisfactory return from the far side. The three figures were two of Omicron's bots and a very pale-skinned dragon boy. I saw no sign of motion as they dragged him along between them. The iridescent glow of a reflective retina picking up on meager light appeared from behind sleepy eyelids. I hoped it was merely close to the camera. The alternative would make the eye almost as large as the three figures put together. I shuddered as its motion took the reflection away from the camera's direction.

  The tag for the camera read "Project Zero-- Nest."

  "I want to have another chat with our cook," I said, heading back out of the room. Those cultists still sensible enough to do so had clearly started looking for a means to extricate themselves from their restraints. At first glance, I didn't see any signs of success. I dragged the self-proclaimed cook to his feet. "Project Zero," I said.

  "Wha-what about it?" he stammered.

  "How do I get there?"

  "You don't... You really don't want to. She won't be happy with you."

  "Either you give me directions now," I said, "Or I drag you along as a guide. Take your pick." The man was already pale from having lived underground for who knows how long. What surprised me was that he was able to get paler.

  "You'll want something to write this down," he said. "And don't blame me if she eats you."

  Part 35

  Resistance in the halls was scattered and confused; the Final Star still hadn't narrowed down which alarms were real. Even so, my fists were getting sore, and I could hear Ben getting winded from all the running and fighting. Icerazor pretended not to be getting tired, but his motions had slowed almost imperceptibly since we started. The only one seemingly unaffected was Jennifer, but fighting was all mental for her. Speed, surprise, and locally-overwhelming force worked in our favor as we made our way through the underground complex. It was hard to miss the big double doors marked "Project Zero" or the four bots standing guard. Icerazor grinned at the chance to practice his swordsmanship and carved through the lead two as Jennifer smashed those in back with columns of light. I shouldered through the door and found myself in a passage walled in concreted halite.

  It was unlit, and I could only see so far before the vision capabilities of my eye were strained to produce a coherent image. Jennifer brought back her diamond construct to shed light past the limits of the hallway's fluorescents. I motioned them forward and advanced into the corridor. It was wide and tall enough to drive a truck through. When this was a working mine, they probably had. Loose salt crunched underfoot as we progressed into the eerily beautiful, glittering passage of dirty halite. Each crystal caught the golden glow from Jennifer's construct and scattered it in a different direction depending on how it was affixed in the matrix. In this deposit, there was an awfully high proportion of non-salt material. Probably why they'd simply bored through it looking for purer regions.

  The passage was long and straight. Every so often we passed small boreholes where the miners had probed for more viable strata off the main passage. Eventually, the image of another set of double doors resolved in the distance. These were set into a wooden framework anchored into the halite. The deposit here had fewer impurities, but still bore a pinkish hue. I unbolted the heavy steel bolt and swung these doors open. Be
yond was a chamber I was not expecting.

  Large slabs of granite and basalt had been hauled into the mine and used to construct a temple, lining the interior of the salt chamber up to twelve feet on the walls. The ceiling was left in its glittering white state. The floor was made up of hexagonal basalt columns fitted like tile work three feet thick, save for the seemingly natural staircase leading up to the main platform. Caryatid columns of humans in supplication held up angular granite arches over the main courtyard. A short stepped pyramid sat at the end of the row of arches. The chamber continued beyond, but my eye went to the figure sprawled upon the altar atop the pyramid. The white wing and limp tail were a dead giveaway.