Dark Fathoms

by James Axler

  Just when his lungs had reached the bursting point, his head broke the surface, and Ryan took a huge gulp of fresher-tasting air. Shaking his head to get the water and his black hair out of his eyes, he heard splashing nearby, and looked around to see what the hell was going on.

  He immediately counted six other heads either in the water or heading to the edge of the water. Krysty and Jak stood waist-deep in the pool, looking back at the others. Krysty in particular looked as though she was about to head back into the water. Ricky was also joining them, with Doc paddling a few yards behind him. That left only J.B. and Mildred. As Ryan glanced over, he heard a panicked shriek.

  “Let me go, dammit!”

  “Stop thrashing. You’re going to drown us both.”

  Ryan looked over to see J.B. struggling with Mildred. Her eyes were wide and staring in the gloom, and she was taking huge, panting gulps of air. She was also trying to climb on top of J.B., who had his hands full keeping her restrained while also making sure he didn’t drown at her hands.

  Ryan launched himself toward the pair with powerful strokes. But even as he did, J.B. drew his hand back and slapped Mildred across the face, the smack echoing across the water. Her head snapped back, and she quieted immediately, turning to stare at him with shocked eyes. The Armorer didn’t say a word, just began towing her to the edge of the pool. He glanced at Ryan as he did, and the one-eyed man immediately changed course to join the rest, hanging back to make sure they weren’t attacked from behind.

  Once everyone was out of the water, Ryan took a moment to make sure their position was secure. They were at the other end of the corridor, with a large door a few yards away. This part appeared to be just as deserted as where they’d come from. There didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, but he leaned against the wall in a position where he could see both the water and the door with relative ease. He didn’t say anything about what had happened, figuring it would come out in its own time. For once, both Jak and Ricky were also content to follow his lead.

  Finally, J.B., who didn’t take his eyes or hands off Mildred until they were out of the water, asked, “You okay?”

  She rubbed her cheek, then looked up at him with a hint of a grateful smile and nodded. “Yeah. You did the right thing, as much as it galls me to admit it. I—I just panicked.”

  J.B. blinked. “Easy enough to do, with all that water.”

  “I flat-out panicked. I’m sorry about that, everyone. I could’ve messed things up even worse.”

  “The most important thing is that everyone’s all right,” Krysty replied. “With Gaia’s blessing, I hope we don’t ever have to do anything like that again.” She caught Ryan’s eye. “I could sense whatever it was on the other side of the passage. The blast had stunned it, but it was still very much alive. Alive...and very, very large.”

  “Coulda told that,” Jak said.

  “That’s enough excitement for one day,” Ryan said. “Let’s hope there’s something better on the other side of this door.”

  Chapter Four

  While Mildred regained her composure, Ryan took a look at the door.

  At first glance, it appeared to be a standard redoubt blast door, but it wasn’t constructed of the usual titanium steel. When Ryan tapped it with the handle of his panga, it rang like ceramic, making him frown. To one side of the door was a control panel that featured a small monitor above the standard keypad along with a keycard slot. It was all dark, however, and no amount of button-pressing could make any part of it light up.

  A boot heel scuffed the floor behind him, and Ryan turned to see a bedraggled, dripping-wet Doc standing a foot away. He seemed completely recovered from the disorientation he’d experienced in the mat-trans. Even their swim through the darkness hadn’t seemed to affect him, and now he flashed his oddly perfect teeth in a genial grin.

  “Have you figured out the proper method of ingress yet?”

  Ryan turned back to eye the door with a sour expression. “Not quite. The controls are broken, so we either have to find some backup system, or we’re going to have to blow it, which won’t be good for any of us in this enclosed space.”

  “Indeed.” Doc had resheathed his sword, and now tapped the bottom of the cane on the floor. “Mayhap I could be of some small assistance in this matter? Based on what we have seen and experienced so far, I have been formulating a hypothesis about our current location. If you will allow me?”

  Ryan stepped aside. “It’s all yours, Doc.”

  The old man stepped forward and examined the door carefully, then the dead control panel. He looked at the ceiling, then at the wall above the panel, then at the wall below.

  By now, Ryan had been joined by Jak and Ricky. The three all watched Doc move about with various expressions of puzzlement on their faces.

  “¿Qué está haciendo?” Ricky asked. “What’s he doing?”

  Ryan had been asking himself the same question for the past minute. “I have no idea.”

  Now Doc bent and tapped the wall beneath the panel with the silver lion’s head of his cane. The section of wall thudded dully under his blows. Then he straightened. Drawing his foot back, he lashed out at the piece of wall under the control panel, the impact echoing through the corridor.

  Nothing happened.

  Muttering to himself, Doc cocked his leg and kicked at the wall again. This time, a section popped out, just enough to be visible against the rest. Dropping to his knees, Doc inserted his fingernails into the crack and slowly wrenched the panel open, revealing a short lever. But instead of looking pleased, he got to his feet, accompanied by the pops of his ancient knees, with a worried expression on his face while he recovered from the exertion.

  “That’s...what I was...looking for...mechanical back-up...lever...to open...the door,” the old man said between pants of air. “Usually...not this...well hidden, however.”

  “Great. So, what’s the problem?” Ryan asked.

  He pointed at the lever. “Let us see what’s on the other side of this door first, and then I will tell you.” Drawing his LeMat blaster, he moved out of the way. “You will have to pump it up and down to raise the door.”

  With a shrug, Ryan made sure J.B. and Mildred were ready to go first, then he knelt in front of the lever. Grabbing it, he pulled it up, having to use all of his strength. “Damn! I sure hope this bastard lever gets easier.”

  “They operate on a hydraulic principle, so yes, it should get easier with each pump,” Doc replied. “It is just that having not been utilized in more than a century has rendered it a mite balky. Much like myself sometimes.”

  “Got...that right...Doc.” Ryan shoved the lever down again, then repeated the process. After five or six times, he heard a creak from inside the wall, followed by the door shaking as it began to move. Increasing the tempo of his lever-pumping, each up-and-down motion raised the door another inch or two. When the door cleared the floor, a thin wash of brackish, greenish-brown water sluiced in around their boots.

  “Gaia! What’s that smell?” Krysty asked, drawing her Smith & Wesson 640 revolver.

  Mildred drew her own blaster with one hand while covering her mouth and nose with the other. “Damn! Not even the autumn pig slaughter smelled as bad as this.”

  Doc, meanwhile, stood resolute in the other corner, swordstick in one hand, the LeMat held by his side in his other. “‘Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather the multitudinous seas incarnadine, making the green one red.’”

  “What you sayin’?” Jak asked, as he squatted to peek under the door.

  “I am saying, dear Jak, that we may be in far, far greater danger than I had initially suspected,” Doc replied.

  “Fuck,” the albino teen said. “Always talk lot, but say nothing. Place stinks.”

  “Anyone see any movement inside?” Ryan asked, still pumping the lever.

  “Nothing yet,” J.B. said, his Mini-Uzi at the ready. “Just that incredible stench.”


  As Ryan continued to raise the door, he got a whiff of it, too, a powerful miasma of rottenness carried along with a hot blast of air. Whether it was flesh, vegetable or something else, he wasn’t sure.

  When the door had been raised to waist height, he stopped and stood, drawing his SIG Sauer. “Triple red, everyone.”

  With that, he took a peek. When he was satisfied with what he saw, Ryan bent under the door and stepped inside, splashing through the filthy water, causing the automatic lights to flash weakly on.

  Instead of a corridor, however, he stood in an airlock, with a similar door at the other end. Although the smell was stronger in here, there was nothing rotting that would have made it. The door had a small window in it. Ryan moved to check it while J.B. examined the keypad.

  Doc took in the door with an unusual expression on his face. “Yes...yes,” he muttered. “This would certainly be needed.”

  “See anything, lover?” Krysty asked, her blaster held down by her side.

  “Nothing but dark. How’s the pad look, J.B.?”

  “Troublesome,” the shorter man replied. “Good news is, this pad seems to be working. Bad news is that since this is an airlock, that door—” he pointed at the one they’d just come through “—needs to be closed before we can open this one. Assuming this slot here runs off some kind of access card, we need to figure out how to bypass it—if we can.”

  “Bypass?” Ricky asked.

  “Yeah,” the Armorer answered. “Some doors we’ve come across open and close using sec cards—little flat pieces of plastic that serve as electronic keys. Shove one in a slot, and if it matches the built-in code the pad recognizes, the door opens.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “In this base, I’d say more likely than not we’re in a world of hurt,” Ryan answered. “So, how do we get it open?”

  “I’d think there’s a manual level on this side that’d lower that one,” J.B. replied. “See if you can find it, Doc. I’m going to keep working on this.”

  “I can help.” Ricky stood at the bespectacled man’s shoulder.

  “We’ll see, Ricky.” J.B. said.

  “I have located the manual lever for the first door, John Barrymore. Do you wish it closed?” Doc asked.

  J.B. glanced at Ryan, who shrugged. “Might as well. Nothing to go back to there.”

  Doc began struggling with the lever, which was stuck just as badly as the other one. Catching Jak’s eye, Ryan nodded him toward the old man. The albino walked over to him. “Move, Doc. I try.”

  Doc did so, and Jak began to pump the lever, allowing the door to slowly begin descending. Meanwhile, J.B. and Ricky were still puzzling over the keypad.

  “Other airlocks I’ve seen have an emergency open mechanism. I’m hoping this one does, too.” J.B. waited until the far door had closed completely. “Yeah, there it is.”

  The typical request for an entry code appeared. J.B. hit the three-five-two sequence, but couldn’t do anything when the prompt requested a card be inserted. Instead, he hit the open door code again, with no better results.

  A red orb above the keypad flared to bright life. “New arrivals have entered airlock.”

  “Did you do that?” Ryan asked J.B.

  “Mebbe...hard to say,” he replied.

  “Security forces are en route. New arrivals are to remain where they are until escort arrives.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Mildred said. As she did, the large door next to Ryan slid open. Blaster at the ready, he made sure the immediate space beyond was clear before stepping through.

  “Don’t see anyone moving out here.” He stood at a T-intersection, with corridors branching off to the left and right. The lights here barely worked, as well, with roughly one in five providing dim pools of illumination. The stench was much stronger here, forcing Ryan to breathe through his mouth. The air wasn’t quite as stale, although he had a hard time telling through the stink. The walls, bare in most redoubts, were covered with crusts of salt as well as large patches of what looked like green-gray mold.

  The rest of the companions had joined him, and everyone was peering down one of the corridors. Everyone heard a crackle, then a high-pitched squeal came from the wall over their heads. They looked up to see another speaker mounted near the ceiling give off that shrill whine before falling silent.

  “Wonder if that was the same voice from the mat-trans control room?” Mildred asked.

  “Mebbe.” As usual, J.B. was examining the walls for any indication of where they might be in the complex. This time, however, he came up empty. “What redoubt doesn’t post maps?” he mused aloud.

  “The kind from which there is no escape,” Doc said, making every other head turn toward him.

  “I’ve had enough of the bastard riddles today, Doc,” Ryan said. “Talk plainly. What’s going on here?”

  His words were interrupted by a noise coming from the left passage. A clank, followed by a small splash.

  “You asked for answers, Ryan, and verily, you shall have them soon enough,” the old man replied as he holstered his blaster. “But I do not think you will like them very much.”

  “Dammit, Doc!” Ryan squinted as he heard the strange noises again, a bit closer this time. He checked over his shoulder, making sure the right passage was clear. So far, so good.

  “Movement,” the keen-eyed Jak reported. “Human—think.”

  Now Ryan could make out a shadow about forty feet away, humanoid, with two arms and legs. At first he thought it was a secman wearing some kind of helmet, since all he could see of its face was two dots of ruby-red light. When it took its next, lurching step, it entered a flickering patch of light, enough so the companions could get a better look at it.

  “Dark night!” J.B. said.

  “Gaia!” Krysty exclaimed.

  The thing that approached them was neither human nor machine, but a nightmarish combination of both. The clank was made every time its left leg—an artificial, articulated foot attached to a rod that melded with the flesh and bone of the leg just below the knee—hit the floor. It then stepped forward with its normal right leg, still clad in the tattered, mildewed remains of whatever uniform the human had worn while he or she had lived. Its skin was so pale white it was almost translucent. At any rate, Ryan was sure he could see swollen, blue veins running up the cyborg’s legs, chest and arms.

  But there were other mechanical parts, too. Tubes carrying some kind of dark green fluid encircled its torso, flowing out from the upper abdomen to its arms and legs. Its right arm was normal, although the fingers were curled into a fist. Its left, however, had also been replaced, this time with stainless-steel armature that included a large, nasty-looking clamp at the end. The clamp opened and closed with each step.

  The half man, half machine’s head was the most revolting of all. The remaining skin on its face and bald pate was covered in blotches of blue-green fungus. Its jaw dangled slack and crooked, as if it had been broken and just left that way. A gaping hole in its cheek appeared to have been eaten away by something, leaving ragged edges behind. Its normal eyes were gone, replaced by the two unblinking, red dots. As it drew closer, Ryan saw that the red sensors were contained in small, metal orbs that had been implanted in the poor wretch’s face.

  “My God, put that poor bastard out of his misery,” Mildred said, raising her blaster.

  “No!” Doc cried, pushing her arm up. “A single stray bullet could destroy this entire facility!”

  “What?” Ryan said, half turning to him as the cyborg stopped and stared at them, its head jerking up and down as it took in the companions.

  “What it do?” Jak asked.

  “I think it’s seen us,” Krysty replied.

  Ryan pulled out his panga. “Doc, what the hell do you mean—”

  The abomination raised its head, and a sudden, high-pitched shriek filled the corridor, making everyone wince and Jak actually clap his hands over his ears.

  Ryan had just
taken a step forward when he saw more shadows appear down the hall behind the first thing. “Reinforcements. We have to get out of here.”

  J.B. had already taken a step down the right corridor when he stopped short. “Noise down this way, too.”

  “Shit,” Ryan said. “How many?”

  “Mebbe three or four? You?”

  “Don’t know—sounds like a lot, though.” Ryan was interrupted when he saw something smaller and faster shoot past the walking thing and head straight for him. “Something else is coming this way!”

  In the time it took to say that and raise his panga, ready for whatever might be sprung on him, the smaller machine, about the size of a large cat, was only a few yards away. A small silver globe covered with various holes, it hissed as it rolled through the filthy water, but he couldn’t tell if it was steam-powered, or ran on something else. Instead of continuing to charge at him, it skidded to a stop a few feet away. Emitting a distinct chitter of some kind of machine language, it suddenly sprang straight up into the air.

  “What—” was all Ryan had time to say before it shot something small and white at him. The tiny ball flew at him, exploding in midair as he tried to dodge out of the way. It bloomed into a net composed of thousands of tiny filaments that flew toward him. Ryan tried to swipe it out of the air with his panga, but the moment he touched it, the edges of the net curled in toward him, covering his arm and shoulder.

  “Ryan?” Krysty asked.

  “I’m all right,” he said just as small, stinging pains began shooting through his skin. That was almost immediately followed by a numbness that froze his hand around the panga’s handle and quickly spread up his arm to his shoulder. “No...can’t move.”

  He turned to the others, but his first step was more of a lurch forward instead as the toxin spread through his nervous system. Ryan staggered and fell to one knee as Krysty ran to him.

  “Watch—” He tried to force the warning through his frozen lips, but she ran past him and straight at the small machine, which had landed on the floor and was starting to roll forward again. Without breaking stride, she powered one cowboy-boot-clad foot forward and kicked the ball back at the approaching cyborg. It hit the walker’s chest, making it stop for a moment before resuming its inexorable march forward. The small machine rolled out of its way and didn’t move again. It did, however, emit a light blue gas from several holes that began filling the corridor.