***
They pored over Hera’s copy of the map, discussing the symbols. Sacmis took notes. Somehow, in the hubbub, everyone seemed to have forgotten they didn’t know or trust her.
Everyone but Rex, who kept Elei’s nerves on edge and his heartbeat fast as they drank tea and munched on crackers, arguing over the best course of action.
The best course for a mad plan.
Sacmis insisted they check a spot marked as “dakron” because access to a dakron deposit would benefit the resistance like nothing else.
Kalaes argued that places marked with a symbol for weapons would be better, and Elei agreed.
Hera shushed them with a hand in the air, the other pointing at something. “Deciding on what we need is easy. The hard part is to decide which cache, and how to get there.”
“There must be an entrance,” Kalaes muttered. “Otherwise, what’s the pissing use?”
“Kalaes,” Hera snapped. “Think.”
“Don’t know if I can. Brain cramp.” Kalaes scrubbed a hand over his face.
“These deposits and chambers here on Dakru are outlined in red.” She circled one with her finger. “Others are grey.”
“And your point is?” Kalaes squinted at the map. “Are we going to play what’s-your-favorite-color?”
“My point is that this list is an interpretation of colors.”
“Red is passion,” Kalaes said, twirling a finger in the air.
Elei snorted.
“Actually, the caches marked in red are meant to be the unopened ones,” Hera said.
Kalaes whistled. “That’s some insider information.”
“And the others...?” Elei rubbed his eyes.
“The gray caches are being used by the Gultur. For instance, the dakron mines in the mountains.” Hera shrugged. “But they are not the only ones.”
“But then...” Elei frowned. “Then the Gultur are already there, underground. They must’ve explored this whole maze of passages and chambers and vents,” like ants, crawling under the earth and sea, “have taken control of it, organized themselves to best take advantage of it. How in the five hells are we going to just go in there and poke around?”
He stopped, mainly because he’d run out of breath, but also because of the wide eyes of the others.
“I swear, fe,” Kalaes said after a moment, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you string so many damn words together.”
“The regime has tapped into the resources that are close to the surface.” Hera touched several places on the map. “They control the mountains and their mines, many we know of, and probably others we don’t. For instance, look here.” Hera tapped the mountains in the center of Ost Island. “Here are iron and copper deposits, and the regime is mining them, but what about the weapon and vehicle chambers marked here? Who wants to bet that’s where they found the war machines that allowed them to win the Great War?”
“Son of a bitch,” Kalaes muttered.
War machines. Elei had heard about them: huge mechanical towers shooting rockets and missiles. Heavy artillery deployed in battles. “You’re saying they found some of this stuff, near the surface. Metals, but also some weapons.” Some freaking big weapons.
“That’s the idea,” Hera said.
“They do not have this map,” Sacmis said. “We need to avoid the areas they explored, and find the riches they have not tapped.”
“They know we opened Hecate’s safety box,” Elei argued, “and emptied it.”
“But they didn’t know what was in it,” Alendra said, “or they’d have placed the documents in a safer place.”
“Which means we can safely assume they did not know Hecate had such knowledge.” Sacmis nodded. “They will not be expecting us to know about it, and this gives us an advantage.”
Probably the only one.
“Hecate, you of roads and crossways, of heaven, of earth, and sea,” Kalaes muttered.
“Okay, fine.” Elei glanced at the map. It sounded easy enough. “There are untouched caches on Dakru. Let’s open them.”
“We discussed this with Hera while you were sick,” Sacmis said. “The few entrances are marked for a reason. It seems that the caches can only be opened from the inside to prevent random people from finding them.”
They contemplated that for a moment.
“We need to decide where to enter,” Hera said. “I’d steer clear of Dakru’s mountains where most security will be posted. Also mountains in general, where deposits are near the surface and have been exploited by the regime. We need to enter from a place with fewer resources or ones deep underground.”
“Sounds like we should be looking at another island,” Kalaes said, “not Dakru.”
Hera sighed. “Yes, but the war will be decided on Dakru, therefore we need to open a good cache here.”
“Easy to say, but security will be tight.”
Elei cleared his throat. “I see two entrances on the south coast of Dakru, and one on the north coast. They’re circled in black. Is that good or bad?”
Hera consulted her list. “Bad. It means they’re blocked. Are they the only ones?”
“Yes. The rest are on the other islands.” Elei leaned back. “We can’t enter from Dakru.”
Hera said nothing for a while, examining the map. “Here, this is a good cache, marked in red.” She tapped on a spot on north Dakru. “Weapons and vehicles. What do you think, Kalaes?”
“Haven’t we said that the entrances we can use are on the other islands?”
“The tunnels seem to link the islands underground,” Sacmis said. “We could cross.”
Kalaes frowned. “We don’t know if the map is correct, or if these tunnels still stand.”
“Then we can open a cache elsewhere, grab some weapons,” Alendra said. “It’s better than nothing.”
True. “What about entering from Ert?” Elei pointed at an entrance marked on the coast.
“Perhaps,” Hera said. “I do not know of any military or other camp in the area.”
Below Ert Island spread the usual tangle of tunnels, vents, and chambers marked with various symbols that translated as garden, hive, slumber, cistern, hoard, and a small knowledge symbol. A library, as Hera had suggested?
Hera sat back with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. “We go to Ert.”
“Yeah, okay.” Kalaes buried his fingers in his tangled hair. “All this is great, but how do we get there? You’re forgetting we’re not allowed to travel by sea, yeah? Got any good connections you can pull?”
“We’ll think of something.” Hera fingered a corner of the map. “We should travel by land to the north-west, steering wide of the western bridge and its check-points, and make our sea trip as short as possible.”
Kalaes nodded. “Never been to sea, but I don’t think I’d appreciate a Gultur escort. The least time spent on the water, the fewer chances they get to catch us.”
“But we’re in the east. That means crossing Dakru Island, all the way to the north-western ports,” Alendra said, frowning. “That’s a long way. We might get caught.”
“We could always get caught,” Sacmis said. “That’s the risk we take.”
“Only this time we don’t have the blessings of the Undercurrent.” Elei recalled the resistance team who’d helped them escape in Teos. “That could make all the difference if we find ourselves in a bind.”
“It might,” Hera conceded, scowling. “Nine did not seem happy with us.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t exactly make a winning impression,” Kalaes said. “Maybe glaring and growling works fine as an ice-breaker in conversations among Gultur, but not among us mortals.”
“We shall have to see,” Hera muttered. “We leave tonight.”
Kalaes groaned. “I knew it. Another sleepless night.”
Elei eyed him. It was all an act, of course. Kalaes would know better than anyone that the cover of night was essential, and the sooner they acted the better, before Nine had the chance to check the map
or post guards outside the safe house and put obstacles in their way.
Although, up close, Kalaes looked exhausted, dark bags under his eyes, his face too thin and pasty.
Elei pushed the worry away. After they finished this, after they found a way to bring down the regime for good, then they’d rest.
Then they’d go home.
Chapter Four
Alendra was scrounging food in the kitchen, non-perishables mostly — boxes of rusk bread and dried meat and fungi. From where Elei stood in the corridor, he could see her blond head and the graceful line of her neck as she bent over the bags.
“Hey, did you pack your things?” Kalaes called out.
Elei shook himself and entered the bedroom. “Yeah, all packed.”
“That was quick.” Kalaes was reassembling a gun on the bed, a compact semi-automatic — submachine perhaps, parts spread around him like the remains of an explosion.
Elei frowned. It wasn’t like he had much to pack anyway. He’d gotten new clothes from the safe house — a t-shirt, a dark green hoodie, black pants, black boots. The only thing he owned was his ancient handgun, his Rasmus. And Kalaes’ braids. He patted his pocket where he kept them, the gods knew for what. A talisman of sorts, perhaps.
Kalaes lifted his gun. “Check this baby out.” He grinned, a dark light in his eyes, and Elei decided the older boy was probably just distracted with his new toy. “Minimum recoil, good penetration, easy-to-slide-in magazines. Maximum damage.”
Elei said nothing, a shiver going through him. A good weapon. A death-bringer.
“Forty rounds in one go, fe!” Kalaes brandished the gun and Elei flinched. Kalaes froze, his eyes losing some of their excited gleam. “I sound like a gun merchant, don’t I?” He put the gun down on the mattress, his lips twisting. “Well, I’m no innocent. I’ve always done what I had to do to survive and keep the ones around me alive. Not that I’ve been very successful at that or anything.”
Elei frowned. “Are you talking about your brother?”
A cloud passed over Kalaes’ gaze. “Yeah, that too.”
Elei sat down next to him, the gun lying between them like a snake. “How old were you when Zag died?”
It was Kalaes’ turn to shiver, and Elei regretted asking. Neither of them had spoken Zag’s name since that night in the aircar when Kalaes had told him Zag was dead.
He took a deep breath. “Hey, forget I asked—”
“I was thirteen,” Kalaes said.
Thirteen. Still a kid.
“My dad died that same day. A Gultur raid.” Kalaes ran a hand through his hair. “Gods, it’s been six years already.”
“The Gultur killed them?” Elei clamped his mouth shut when Kalaes paled, but then another thought hit him. “Is that why you joined the resistance?”
Kalaes nodded, hands curling on the bed, snagging the blanket. “I had to do something before I went mad. Being in the resistance kept me sane through it all, the gang, the plagues, and everyone dying.” He took a sharp breath and turned his face away. “And here I am, moaning about my past. As if you haven’t had your share of problems.”
“That’s what brothers are for, isn’t it?” Elei wasn’t sure, but he hoped it was.
Kalaes turned to him, and the darkness faded a little. “I guess.”
That was good; it eased Elei’s breathing.
“Are you boys ready?” Hera called from the doorway. The artificial light brought out the flecks of green in her eyes — or maybe it was her excitement. “We’ve got provisions and ammo packed, and dakron for the aircar. Probably not enough, we’ll have to refuel on the way.”
“Medicine?” Elei asked. To keep Rex at bay.
Hera nodded. “It’s in the thermos bottles. Sacmis has them. Try not to spill it, I spent hours making it.”
He barely resisted rolling his eyes.
“What about torches?” Kalaes looked up. “We don’t know if there’s light underground.”
“Got two. We may need to find more.”
Kalaes got up with slow motions. Looked like his manic energy had ebbed. “Have I mentioned this is a half-assed plan?”
“You have.” Hera tsked, her lips twitching. “Backing out?”
“No way. I said I’m in.” Kalaes gave a crooked smile. “Doesn’t stop it from being a half-assed plan, though.”
True. But when had that ever mattered?
***
A last look at the apartment, a last breath of safety and warmth, and Elei picked up two tanks of water to lug to the garage.
Alendra and Sacmis were climbing onto the aircar deck. The vehicle lights came on. Hera leaned over the deck to grab the tanks from Elei, then disappeared from view. He went up the ladder, startled by the sting of pain in his thigh. Hera had pulled out the stitches at some point, slapping band aids over the wounds, and Rex had helped the torn muscles knit faster, but they’d probably never be as they were.
Still. Without Rex, he wouldn’t even be walking.
He crossed the deck and climbed into the passenger cabin with its two seats. Sacmis was stowing their provisions in the back, her long, blond ponytail swinging. She shot him a brief, neutral glance and returned to her task.
It felt odd to be standing there, his heartbeat quiet, no colors flashing, when his last memories from the aircar were of fear and pain. There was a faint sense of purpose joining his thoughts, a concrete goal. And a kind of peace, too, with himself and with the world. Because Hera was his friend, and Kalaes was his brother, and if he didn’t know yet exactly where he stood with Sacmis and Alendra, he could live with that. Because he had people who cared for him.
“Elei, give me a hand,” Kalaes shouted from outside.
Speaking of whom... Elei grinned and marched outside to lean over the deck rail. “A hand with what?”
Kalaes lifted a black duffel bag to Elei. He carried one himself. Elei pulled it up, grunting at the weight. “Let me guess. Bricks?”
“Weapons and ammo,” Kalaes said as he climbed the ladder to the deck.
“And the army to use all these guns?” Elei dragged the bag into the cabin.
“Better safe than sorry,” Kalaes muttered as he followed, carrying the other.
Sacmis turned to face them. “Well, then. I suppose we’re ready to go.”
“Sorry, did you say something?” Kalaes heaved the duffel bag over the seats.
“If this is about me saying you were afraid to come along...”
Kalaes stiffened. “Elei, did you hear something? There’s a buzzing in the cabin.”
“You cannot ignore me forever,” Sacmis said, hands on hips.
“Are you sure about that?” Kalaes grabbed the other bag, ignoring the look she was giving him.
“I have not done anything to you.”
“Yes, but your kind has.” And for the first time Elei knew exactly what they’d done to him, the cost. His father and brother, his whole world gone in ashes and blood. “It’s enough.”
“You’re nice to Hera.”
Kalaes drew back. Sweat ran down his temples. “She won my trust. You haven’t — yet.”
“I see,” she said, and with that, she turned on her heels and headed to the cockpit. The door slammed a little too hard.
Elei winced, then looked sideways at Kalaes. “I thought you wanted Hera to jump her bones.”
“I do.” Kalaes shrugged. “You don’t need trust to screw someone, fe.”
Elei wasn’t sure how he felt about that; wasn’t sure he could screw someone without trusting and caring for them. Then again, he’d never done it, so what did he know?
“It’s good fun, nothing more.” Kalaes’ gaze was darker than ever, and Elei recalled that the last person Kalaes had been with, Maera, had betrayed them all. Kalaes had trusted her with his life.
Elei swallowed a sigh and decided to change the topic. He gestured at the cockpit door. “I guess the first shift goes to the girls.”
Kalaes sank in one of the seats, the old nepheli
ne creaking, and leaned his head back. “Excellent. Let them have it.” He yawned and closed his eyes. “And so it begins all over again.”
“Yeah.” Elei stretched on the other seat, watched as Kalaes’ features relaxed and his breathing evened out. “It begins again.”
But, hopefully, for the last time.
***
The lit streets of Dion swept by — glimpses of sad faces, a square with a Gultur temple, shuttered shop fronts. In a pool of light cast by a street lamp, a little dark-haired girl stood and watched them pass. Elei pressed his brow to the window, thinking of Afia, and Jek, and the other street kids of Teos. Of Dakru. Of the world.
I’ll make things better, he vowed. I’ll change this world and take care of you.
He leaned back from the window and rubbed his tired eyes. Crazy or not, he’d try. What had Kalaes said as they’d descended into the sewer tunnels at Gortyn? ‘I’m afraid I’ll fail again. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try my best.’
He tried to sleep, forcing his eyes closed, his mind to go blank, but after three days in bed he was full of restless energy. He wished Cat was there. The smell of its fur and its warmth on his shoulder had been comforting. Was Cat dead or was it hunting on the streets of the Gultur capital? Had it infected more cats? Or even people?
Elei sat up and pulled his Rasmus out of its holster. He caressed the numbers engraved on the barrel, remembering Dakru City, the clean streets with the trees and flowers, the white buildings and fresh air. Every town should be like that. Everyone should live like that. That was what this was all about.
He emptied the gun, field-stripped and cleaned it. Then he reloaded and made sure the safety was on. Outside, the high-walled streets gave way to open expanses with houses here and there, dark ghosts beneath the night sky, the clouds yellow from distant city lights.
They were heading north-west, skirting the mountains, hoping to go through without trouble. Yeah, right. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was that things never went as one expected. Then again, he’d learned there was something to hoping and dreaming. Sometimes dreams came true.
Elei's Chronicles (Books 1-3) Page 54
