“What do you wish to do, commander?” Eric asked.
“Tell them to take Tegev back to Ming and Takashi so they can treat her. Also tell Ming he’s to safeguard your people. It may get ugly now that the Suits know we’re here. They seem to be getting bolder at any rate. He’s to work on the project I gave him and he’s not to follow me. Give this weapon to Ming, Tegev,” Farr said handing over his Taser. She nodded and then left with one of Eric’s people.
Eric,” Farr said breathing deeply. “Do you think you can show me the secret way you reached the place of the Suits?”
“Yes, but why? They’ve probably killed your man already. He fought back against them and helped the girl escape. They always kill the ones who fight.”
“For their sake, I hope that they’ve kept him alive to learn more about us,” Farr’s eyes were steely and cold and Eric shuddered reflexively and involuntarily shrank from the palpable rage that emanated from Farr.
“Yes, I’ll lead you to their place.”
“Then let’s not waste any time.” Eric moved instantly back down the Cimmerian corridors in the way they’d just come but before they’d reached the intersection that led to the dome, and the place of the Suits, Eric moved into the shadows at the right side of the corridor.
“This may be a tight place for you,” he said to Farr and then disappeared from view. Farr was astonished and searched the dark wall with his hands, finding the crevice Eric had slipped through. His lowlight opticals were next to useless here and he felt up and down until he traced the crack in the wall through which Eric had disappeared. He squeezed his bulk through the opening leaving several layers of skin behind. The interior was pitch black and his opticals allowed him to see about a meter and a half, if that. It was also no wider than the entrance and Farr had to move sideways down the crevice.
“Can you see me?” Eric asked realizing his plight, his voice sounding closer and closer.
“Yes, now I can,” Farr replied when Eric was a little over a meter away. Farr felt claustrophobic in the confined space and panic rose within him. He fought to subdue it.
“Follow me. We’ll have to move this way for quite some distance, but then it’ll open up. I’m afraid it won’t be any lighter until we reach the place of the Suits.” As he spoke Eric reached out and touched Farr’s shoulder. Farr relaxed almost immediately and took a deep breath and steadied himself, before nodding at Eric to continue.
And so they continued on through the timeless, stygian darkness for what seemed like an eternity to Farr, his back and chest scraping over the rough rock wall. He couldn’t tell how far they’d traveled before he realized that he was no longer scrapping the sides of the rocky crack. He continued to move sideways for a while longer and then, feeling about him, he realized the space had widened enough to allow him to walk in a more normal manner. He did so gingerly, having rapped his head on outcroppings twice already, following the vague outline of Eric Gaetos just ahead in the darkness. He was almost on top of the youth before he realized he’d stopped.
“The crevice narrows here again and then opens into a chamber. There are tunnels leading from the chamber but we will not follow those.” He turned without another word and led the way forward. Forewarned, Farr was able to negotiate the narrowing with a minimum of skin loss and found himself in a low-ceilinged twenty meter by five meter rectangular, roughly hewn chamber. The lighting was better here and Farr could make out a large vent on the wall directly across from them. Of course, he thought, this was part of the atmosphere plant that supplied the tunnels. At some time in the past a moonquake had opened the crevice because the chamber had been built through varying strata of rock.
He followed Eric across to the vent and helped him remove the wide louvered cover.
“We’ll replace it from the inside. I must warn you it will be much darker in the vents until we get to the place of the Suits.”
“Lead on,” Farr commanded, dreading the darkness and anxious about the fate of Skorsson. It’s my fault, he thought, stumbling along in the darkness and he knew he had to fix it or he wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
CHAPTER 11
Ming leaned back and examined his work. “You’ll live, but you should ask the commander to teach you how to duck. I’m told it’s an excellent technique and saves lots of wear and tear on the body.”
“You should see the other guy,” Tegev said with a half-smile.
“That’s the spirit kid. Don’t worry Sasha, the Commander always collects on a debt, and he figures they owe him, and how, for both you and Alex. He’s really good at that kind of thing.”
“The commander?” she said skeptically.
“Sergeant, you saw all of those pretty colored ribbons on his dress uniform when we had our send off, didn’t you?”
“I’m a ground pounder Mr. Ming. Airedales wear lots of pretty colored ribbons that don’t mean anything,” she said using the derogatory term for pilots and the air fleet that had somehow survived even into space.
“Well three of those are for valor in combat and I saw him in action on one of those occasions,” Ming told her. “And believe me I’d rather be on his side than be the one that pissed him off.”
“No shit?” she asked impressed.
“No shit soldier,” Ming confirmed with a wink, knowing that Tegev was another disciple of his old movies that circulated throughout the crew. Takashi’s mouth hung open. “You wanna close that Hitoshi before something flies in,” Ming said with a grin. His mouth snapped shut.
“So the commander’s a badass.” Takashi said with a grin.
“One of the baddest of the bad and you can take that to the bank.”
The Foreman joined them, moving through the cavern in absolute silence.
“I’m sorry to hear one of your men was taken,” the saintly old man said with genuine concern on his face.
“The commander will settle all debts, Foreman, not to worry.”
“I hope that will be the case,” the old man said earnestly. “And how are you young lady?” he said with a kindly smile.
“Getting better, thank you. How come you’re the only one who ever smiles here Foreman?”
The old man sighed, an immense weary thing that seemed too large for his frail body. “Because my children are losing hope child and their lives are hard and the promised time hasn’t come yet. I don’t know how much longer we can remain faithful.” He seemed so sad at that moment that Tegev switched subjects quickly.
“I didn’t know that you had family names, Foreman.” Ming looked surprised as did Takashi.
“Yes, I didn’t think to use mine when I addressed you. It has been so long since we’ve used them in our place of living that I did not remember that proper manners require it when meeting a stranger. I am Alain´ of the family Skorsson,” he finished.
“What?” Ming blurted out. Everyone looked at him.
“My family name is Skorsson,” the Foreman repeated perplexed. “Is there something wrong my son?”
“It’s just that we’ve a Dr. Skorsson with us and he told me one of his ancestors was on the Moon when the Calamity struck.”
“Is this the crewman that was taken?” the Foreman asked alarmed.
“I’m sorry, Foreman, it was him. But commander Farr will rescue him and you can count on that. That blue eyed devil doesn’t leave anyone behind,” Ming said.
The Foreman’s eyes widened in his lined face at what Ming had said, but he remained silent and excused himself to go among his people, his face wearing an incredulous look.
“Little Sara,” the Foreman said approaching a small group of his people, “how are you today?” The girl wasn’t one of the genetically altered and her eyes were only slightly larger than normal, but like all of them she was wafer thin, her clothes ratty and her hair tangled and dirty. But although her appearance was pitiful in the extreme, there was a light in her face that always renewed the Foreman’s faith.
If only his other children had that ligh
t in their eyes, he thought sadly. Maybe, he prayed fervently, maybe, if what he was hearing from the strangers was true, his people’s time in purgatory was coming to its end. Had he begun to doubt the Creators too, he wondered? Were the signs there and he just couldn’t see them because his faith had failed him?
“I’m better, Foreman. The strangers gave me some of their food and the one they call Ming gave me a “shot”. It hurt a little but I didn’t cry and now I feel better. Where did the stranger with the funny eyes go?” she said looking around.
“Funny eyes, my child, what do you mean? Do you mean their commander? His eyes look much the same as the eyes of the others of his people to me.”
“No, his are very different from the rest,” she said quite confidently. “They are like the crystals we used to dig in one of the little tunnels, very bright and shiny and pretty. I like them because they change. Sometimes they’re calm like the caves and grottos where we go to think, but sometimes they’re full of fire and blazing like the sun described in our legends. Of course he looks a little scary when his eyes are like that.”
“Yes my child, I suppose you see things quite differently from an old man like me,” he said smiling at her and patting her head as he moved on, his mind perplexed. The eyes, he thought, she said his eyes were different, and full of fire. Rage, could she mean rage? And deep within his heart something stirred and the teachings came flooding back to him, and for a fleeting moment, he dared to hope.
—————
Gradually Farr’s vision returned as they moved through the ancient ventilation ducts. The lowlight hadn’t worked at all for the last… two kilometers? Four kilometers? It was impossible to tell how far they’d come, although he was quite sure that Eric knew. The lowlight opticals had actually gone to standby at one time, admitting defeat.
The vent system was cold, probably no more than ten degrees C and, coupled with the thin atmosphere, was cramping Farr’s muscles. The light ahead of him grew steadily until he could see perhaps ten meters in front of him in the wide vent tunnel. Suddenly the shaft widened and Farr found himself on the edge of what could only be one of the massive chambers of the colony’s atmosphere plant. There’d been a mild breeze blowing through the tunnel and as he peered into the chamber he saw many tunnels branching out toward the main tunnels and the living and working areas, no doubt, of the Suits.
“The tunnel we want is down there,” Eric said, his large eyes peering curiously at Farr. “If you mean to recover your friend, then we must enter the tunnel closest to where the air leaves the great machine.” Farr could not see the far end of the chamber and even when he called up distance opticals it maxed out at sixty five meters.
“How big is this chamber?” Farr asked Eric on a hunch. The sense of direction of the Workers was nothing short of amazing, even accounting for their enhanced vision.
“The chamber we are in is approximately two hundred and ten meters long and sixty meters wide,” he responded automatically.
“And how far are we from the living places of the Workers?”
“Eight point seven three kilometers from the main gathering chamber.”
“And how many Workers are there?”
Eric hesitated briefly, his natural aversion to the question surfacing, but he answered.
“There are three thousand, one hundred and twenty two Workers.”
“How many different tunnel systems are in the total living area of the Workers and the Suits?”
“There are seventeen different manmade tunnel systems in the areas used by the Workers and twenty two manmade tunnel systems in the areas frequented by the Suits. There are eleven natural tunnel systems which are only used by the Workers. Why do you ask these questions?”
“I’ve watched you and your people ever since we arrived. It would be easy to observe the head movements of your people and pass it off as the listlessness of an oppressive life, but it occurred to me after watching you for a while, that every time you enter a space you assess its physical characteristics like you were documenting the data.”
“The Foreman has told you of the Creators, has he not?” Farr nodded and he continued, “According to the traditions handed down, the Creator wishes only for us to develop our intelligence, for it is said that nothing has more power than the mind. The Foreman says he asks no more of us than that and we’ve done the Creators’ bidding. Any child could tell you the things I’ve said. We also practice the Primary Math of our forefathers.”
Farr had dismissed the creator talk of the Foreman as a symptom of the unending abuse they’d endured. Always it was so, in every oppressive backwater hellhole he’d stumbled upon on Earth. When the lives of humans go beyond what they can endure, they create magical gods that have punished them for their indiscretions and, if they’re obedient, will one day free them. In all of his travels the story had always been the same and his studies of the histories of Earth had only confirmed the lessons he’d learned in his time in the Earth Service.
Up to this point his thinking had been very unfair to the Workers, he now admitted to himself. These people had survived incredible conditions and had continued to develop their minds under those conditions in ways that Farr could only begin to fathom. He’d thought them beaten down and bereft of hope, judging them by their condition, something that was entirely beyond their control. He mentally chastised himself for this indiscretion.
“Do you believe in the Creators?” he asked Eric.
The boy shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe. I don’t know. We’ve endured for so long and I can’t see the end.” His last statement was flat and emotionless. Farr’s hand reached out without thought and touched Eric’s shoulder. It was a natural gesture, because to him, in spite of Eric’s height, he was still just a boy. As he touched the youth’s shoulder it seemed as if a tingle ran through his arm and suddenly he could feel, really feel, not just sympathize with, the long years of hopelessness that the Workers had endured in this dark prison. He removed his hand; uncomfortable with the feelings surging through him, but his compassion remained.
“It’s time we do something about that,” he said gently.
“War has been forbidden to the Workers by the traditions,” Eric said suddenly alarmed. “The teachings of Stephen say that war would destroy both peoples, so we hide and move about by stealth, although we occasionally defend ourselves.”
Farr realized with a sudden insight of clarity that he was probably right, and that’s why Stephen had separated the peoples with warbots. In a tight, self-contained environment a war between the two peoples would’ve probably destroyed the entire biosphere. Farr had seen the results of war and it was never logical and it always ended in excessive brutality and destruction, by the victor and the vanquished. And worse yet, an enemy who knew they were losing often took cataclysmic action against the winner, and in such an environment as this the consequences would’ve been severe. A confined world such as this couldn’t withstand the illogical passions of war.
“I believe that was true when Stephen passed it down to the Workers. His wisdom was sound. The two tribes would’ve torn your fragile world apart. But six hundred kilometers above your world,” he said pointing up, “my ship orbits, awaiting my orders. You, and even the Suits, are children of the Earth and we’ve come to help you. Do you believe me when I say this?”
“I believe that you mean to help us, but I know nothing but the silence and darkness of the tunnels and the slow movement and breathing of the rock. The legends say that the vacuum exists above us, where nothing can live. But our legends also tell us that our ancestors came here in great vessels built to travel in the vacuum. And,” he said slowly, looking at Farr, “they also say that the vessels would one day come again and our world would be forever changed,” Eric finished
Farr knew that the other Workers wouldn’t believe him easily and that the Suits probably wouldn’t believe him at all. After all, they’d lived under these conditions for a century. He roused himself from these thou
ghts and concentrated once more on Skorsson.
“I’ll explain everything to you in time, I promise, but right now one of my crew needs my help. I’m responsible for him and I won’t let anyone hurt him if I can stop it,” Farr said and then his eyes turned cold, “And if I can’t then may your Creators help anyone who does him harm.”
“Let’s go then. We must hasten because the roaring wind will come soon and being in the main chamber will be hazardous.” Farr followed in his quick footsteps and almost simultaneously as they entered the venting tunnel indicated by Eric, there was roar and rumbling that reminded Farr of an Earthly hurricane he had once flown through.
“Run!” Eric yelled and leapt down the passageway with Farr in hot pursuit.
When the blast of air that was diverted down their vent arrived, it flung them five meters down the tunnel. But the maelstrom continued roaring and pushed them violently down the dark vent corridor as they tumbled in the dust of the tunnel floor. The roaring went on for several minutes before subsiding.
Farr leapt straight to his feet, dusting himself off, and immediately looked for Eric. He found him another five meters along the corridor in the darkness. His lowlight opticals were once again useless and he gingerly tapped the young man.
“Are you all right?” Farr said softly into the darkness, worried that the frail young man might’ve been hurt in the violent burst.
“I’m alright,” he said rising easily. Although Farr couldn’t see him it appeared he was none the worse for wear, at least if his voice was any indication. “That part is always difficult to gauge,” Eric admitted.
“We weren’t there long enough for you to time the blast so how did you know it was coming?”
“I’ve attempted to time the blasts before but there seems to be no reliable pattern. So I spent time here observing the vibrations in the rocks that it generates.”
Children of the Dark World Page 15
