by AM Scott
Lashtar warned every Sister: further disobedience would mean immediate expulsion and return to the surface. She reminded them they were all responsible for one another—the actions of one reflected on all of them. By the time Lashtar finished, the majority of the Sisters appeared either furious, deeply guilty and distressed, or some combination of the two.
At the end of her speech, Lashtar didn’t let anyone else say a single word, she just started chanting. Everyone joined in. A few of the senior Sisters seemed annoyed, but by the time they finished the first set of songs, faces returned to serenity. The religious chants seemed an effective tool to force obedience and collective thought; Ruhger just hoped Lashtar wasn’t misusing it and creating more dissension in the end.
Ruhger went back to watching the Scholar’s shuttle while considering Lashtar’s actions. Certainly, Lashtar handled the situation differently than he would, but it was her command. Or as close to ‘command’ as a religious entity could get. Ruhger snorted. Probably closer to military command than she should be. There’d be a backlash at some point. Hopefully after they all left Lightwave.
As the Scholar’s shuttle fired landing retros, Lightwave’s C2 system pinged and he swept up the alert. As predicted, the two Inquisitor shuttles lifted off, probably to investigate. Ruhger pounded his fists on the plas armrests of his pilot’s chair, the blows thudding loudly in the silence of the cabin. Blast it all to the seven suns of Saga. They were going to lose the Scholar’s shuttle. Although… he could take them out with Lightwave right now. But he’d be acting as a military force, in an offensive measure. They’d battled the Inquisitor shuttles because they’d been attacked. Ruhger could claim this was an extension of the previous attack, but he was on shaky ground, if only in his own mind. Ruhger was sure no one on board would blink an eye if he took them both out, but Deneb’s forces might see it differently. And if Deneb chose to see it as an act of war, Lightwave had no chance against Deneb’s security forces. After all, Galactica owned this planet; they could do whatever they wanted to it, if not the people. Previously, they’d clearly acted in defense. The Inquisitor shuttles had attacked Lightwave’s shuttles, and were supporting the attack on Haven and the Sisters—the Sisters had recorded evidence of that. Lightwave had defended the town, the Sisters and themselves, not attacked. Still, he brought up the weapons. If they fired on the Scholar’s shuttle, he’d fire. That would be defense.
Long before the Inquisitor shuttles came within firing range, Fortuna Lucia took off. Ruhger blinked in surprise at the tactical display. Had the Scholar escaped? He sent a comm request to the Scholar’s shuttle.
“Shuttle Fortuna Lucia to Lightwave. Scholar Sessan is under duress,” a male voice announced. “Shuttle Fortuna Lucia is under threat and will take evasive maneuvers. Shuttle Fortuna Lucia will return to last known safe position on Lightwave Fold Transport and await contact by Scholar Sessan.”
Ruhger stared at the screen. You can program a shuttle to do that? He’d like to meet the Scholar’s net tech friend back at the University, reclusive genius or not. That was an amazing life safety program. He shook his head in wonder.
When the Scholar’s shuttle rose, one of the Inquisitor shuttles broke off and turned around, mostly likely returning to the probable encampment on the other side of the planet. The other continued on course, hovering above the Badlands near Fortuna Lucia’s landing coordinates. Assuming Ferra and the Scholar now traveled on foot through the Badlands, the Inquisitors were probably trying to track them. They would undoubtedly think the Sisters either knew where prized minerals were or they were retrieving some other valuable. Either way, Ruhger was sure the Inquisitors would send a force after them. If nothing else, they’d want revenge on the person who took out so many of them during the attack on Haven.
He pounded his fists on the armrests again, his entire body coiled tight, aching to do something, anything.
“Blast, blast, blast and rad.” He could do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Both shuttles were needed on Lightwave for emergencies. Ruhger had to stay here, in command of Lightwave. The crew was spread too thin as it was, and they had too many souls on board, relying on them. Despair soured his stomach, but he made himself say it out loud, hoping if he heard it, he’d internalize and accept it. “There is nothing I can do. I cannot leave Lightwave. Even though I know that shuttle is full of murdering thieves, I’m not a murderer. I can’t justify firing.”
Rolling his neck and shoulders, he tried to relax his muscles. Blast it all to a black hole. He was too angry, too furious, too worried, too…suns. Just stop, you idiot. You can’t think about it anymore. Standing, he started a y’ga routine. There was nothing he could do for the Scholar. She’d have to get herself out of this one.
Chapter 16
Saree’s back screamed and her legs trembled. If only she was a foot shorter. She’d never thought of herself as tall, but here? She was a giant. Tunnels were painless as a kid. She smiled a little. At least her early childhood ensured she was never claustrophobic, unlike her companion. Her smile died, remembering the slave collar controller on Ferra’s wrist.
The tunnel abruptly closed in again, the walls becoming rough and jagged. Gravel crunched and rolled under her feet. This rock appeared to be the darker red-colored rock, though it was hard to tell in the dim light of her headlamp. Saree had it on the lowest setting to save the power source. They’d pushed through several similar areas, where the round, semi-smooth tunnels ended in red rock and a narrow, rough passage was carved through. Had Sister Trena blasted through with explosives or chiseled the rock away? And how did Trena know there was a tunnel on the other side? Did she have some sort of ground-penetrating sensor? Or did she just guess?
Taking her pack off, Saree squeezed into the opening sideways, pulling her abs in, although her stomach wasn’t the problem. Sister Trena must have been a small woman. Unlike the other passages, this blasted area wasn’t just a step-through. Saree kept pushing along in an awkward, hunched sideways shuffle, her muscles cramping intermittently. The rough, narrow rock scraped against her body, tugging and pulling at her clothes, her breathing, and Ferra’s, rasping loudly. Saree discovered she wasn’t completely immune to claustrophobia; no, these walls closed in on her body and her mind. Especially when it wasn’t her imagination; the tunnel was narrowing farther. It was harder and harder to force herself along.
Ferra wasn’t helping. She was shorter than Saree, but bigger around, a squat cylinder of muscle, and she kept pushing Saree.
“Go, Scholar. I want out,” Ferra hissed.
Saree forced herself to answer calmly; she didn’t want to make things worse. “I’m going as fast as I can. I’m taller than you are and it’s very difficult to move in this position. We can go back and you can go first if you’d like.”
“No. Keep moving. And don’t forget I can make this very painful for you.”
“If you want me to stop completely.” And she would. There was no way she could continue moving along in this weirdly splayed out position if Ferra used the shock collar. Saree was in enough pain right now, with her knees spread and bent out, her toes pointed out and away from her, in a strange parody of a ballet position. Scraping her body through the narrow passage, Saree dangled her pack in front of her, pushing it painfully along too. She could only inch along sideways, her leg muscles shaking with effort. If she’d realized this passage was so long, she might have started in a different position. Saree’s nose wrinkled. If she had, she might have gotten stuck. She didn’t have big hips, but even hers were enough to jam in this passage. As it was, her breasts rasped painfully against the walls.
Nothing under her left toes. Suns. She shifted her weight to her right leg and felt around with her left. Nothing. Wonderful. Saree carefully pulled her left foot back a little, putting her weight on the heel, and pushed her left arm forward. The tunnel wall ended and her hand followed it around the corner. It was smooth again, so this blasted-through area ended. Was there a floor or a hole? She had to get
to the edge and look down.
“Move!” Ferra sounded panicky.
“I’m at the edge, but I don’t know if there’s a floor here. I’m trying to get close enough to see.” Saree kept her voice low and level, trying to calm Ferra.
Ferra shoved her. “Out!” she screamed.
Saree tried to press back, but Ferra was strong and she couldn’t catch hold of the tunnel sides. Suns!
Nothing under her left foot. She fell forward into the darkness, impacted a smooth tunnel floor with her hands and left knee. Thank the egg of Zarar, there was a floor.
“Ooof!” Something heavy, probably Ferra, impacted her back. Saree collapsed flat on the floor tunnel, her chin scraping the floor. Owww. Hard hands pushed on her back, shoving her into the rock harder, then Ferra’s weight was gone. Saree lay there, trying to get her breath back. Suns, blast and rad. That was painful. Her back and chest ached from the scraping and Ferra’s impact. Her left knee, both palms and her chin smarted. Her inner thigh muscles screamed at her and the rest of the muscles in her legs and hips weren’t any better. Oh. Ow, ow, owwww.
As she slowly recovered, she heard Ferra’s breathing slow. They must be in a more open area, giving Ferra some relief. Saree slowly rose to her hands and knees, then rolled over to sit on her ass. Once she was safely on the smooth rock floor, she lowered her upper body back, intending to lay flat, but she found herself leaning against smooth rock. She blew out, drew air deep into her lungs, and made herself look around.
Ferra also sat against the wall, on the other side of the tunnel exit from her. Her eyes were closed and she mouthed something. Probably some sort of chant to the Mother. Saree scowled, then remembered the situation was more important than Ferra’s beliefs or lack thereof. The slave collar controller was still strapped around Ferra’s wrist; Saree should be happy it didn’t get pushed when Ferra landed on top of her. Yes, Ferra was a rad-blasted big black hole, but lashing out would only create pain for Saree. She took in another breath, deliberately channeling her anger toward survival.
Moving her head, and her headlamp, she surveyed the area. An oval chamber a few meters wide and tall, with three tunnels exiting. Someone—Trena?—had marked each tunnel, with an ‘A,’ ‘B,’ and ‘C.’ Hopefully Ferra had something in her notes about which tunnel to take.
Otherwise, they were lost or dead. Or worse than dead.
Saree heard indistinct noises echoing from the tunnel behind them. The Inquisitors were definitely on their trail. It would take them longer to get through those narrow passages, since most of them had to be bigger than she was, but they probably had tunneling tools.
“Ferra,” she said quietly, hoping her voice wouldn’t travel. “We need to get moving. There’s someone behind us.” Reaching for her pack, she pulled a bev-tainer and took a long drink. She needed water after the effort and the fear.
Ferra glared at her, then turned to her own pack and drank deeply.
“These tunnels are labeled. Do you know which one we’re supposed to take?”
Ferra swallowed and answered. “Yes. We take the ‘A’ tunnel.”
“Blast. That’s the one they’re most likely to try first.” Saree thumbed back toward the tunnel they’d exited.
Smiling a little, Ferra shrugged. “We’ll make it more difficult. Eat a bar, then drop the wrapper a few meters down the ‘C’ tunnel. I’ll do the same in ‘B’.” She laughed, quieting when Saree put a finger to her lips in alarm. Ferra glared again, then seemed to realize Saree was right. “It might be a good time to relieve yourself. Make them walk through it.” She smiled again, nastily.
Well, that was a rather unpleasant idea, but… in the end, not a bad idea. Saree pulled out a bar and chewed. Slowly climbing to her feet, she left her pack and walked to the ‘C’ tunnel. Saree peered inside it. A very round tunnel and it sloped slightly downward. Walking about ten meters, she smiled nastily. Ferra was right: they’d be walking through it. Saree relieved herself, and edged back, walking up on the sides of the tunnel, making sure she didn’t walk through anything herself. About five meters later, she dropped her bar wrapper, turned and went back to retrieve her pack, listening hard before she picked it up. Were the noises louder? She couldn’t tell.
Ferra exited the ‘B’ tunnel, picked her pack and headed into the ‘A’ tunnel without a word. Saree shrugged. Either she stuck with Ferra, who might know how to get out of here, or she surrendered to the Inquisitors, or she tried to explore on her own. She’d probably get caught. Ferra was her best shot right now. Saree picked up her pack and followed Ferra. Maybe she’d get lucky.
Saree followed Ferra for a while, suddenly realizing their reasoning was faulty. “Ferra,” she hissed.
Ferra stopped and glared at her. “It’s ‘Mother’ Ferra.”
Really? Saree glared back, then shook away her irritation. Oh, it doesn’t matter. Live in your delusions of grandeur, old woman. You’ll get yours soon enough. “They’re going to figure out what we’re doing and follow faster since we pissed in both ‘B’ and ‘C’ tunnels. We should have just used one.”
Realization bloomed across Ferra’s face. “You’re right.” She snorted a little. “Well, go back a bit and fix that. This tunnel is sloping up a bit, so it will flow back to them.” She sneered. “And I don’t have to go. Use some of your water if you have to.” Ferra turned away. “Better hurry, Scholar.”
Saree glared at her back. “Don’t forget I’m your only safe way off this planet.”
Ferra didn’t acknowledge her, but she did slow her steps.
Walking quickly, Saree was thankful her boots soles were fairly soft. She didn’t want to make any noise leading them this way. As she neared the tunnel junction, a very loud hissing noise started, the scent of burning metal making her nose wrinkle. Blast and rad, they did have tunneling tools. She forced herself to go, supplementing with a tiny bit of her precious water, then ran back to Ferra. That woman would pay, she’d make sure of it. And hope they didn’t both end up paying for Ferra’s greed and hubris.
Saree caught up quickly. “They’re cutting through. Now’s the time to move, while they’re making noise.”
Ferra jolted into a jog and Saree followed. The tunnel branched and Ferra went left, despite the lack of markings. It split again. Ferra stopped and looked at her notes, going left again. The tunnel continued to branch off, sometimes in multiple directions. Each time, Ferra consulted her notes, then chose. Saree hoped she was right—none of these tunnels were marked. What would they do when they got wherever they were going? They had to get out of here and avoid the Inquisitors. Each tunnel narrowed and widened randomly and the slope changed with every division, the red, yellow and beige rock swooping around them. Surprisingly, the air stayed fresh. Saree frowned a bit. She was breathing easier; there wasn’t so much dust in the air. Interesting.
Saree suddenly realized the tunnels only occurred in the yellow rock. Often, the rock underfoot or above them was red, and it wasn’t rounded off into a circle like the all-yellow tunnels. The areas blasted or chiseled away were red or beige rock. The yellow rock must be softer. And, since these tunnels went up and down, there must be more exits and entrances than just the one they’d taken. Whether those were big enough for humans? No way to tell. Not without Sister Trena’s notes.
Now that she’d figured out that part of the pattern, Saree noticed hollowed-out areas occurred occasionally under their feet, but only in the yellow rock. She peered at the next depression they came to. It dipped down a few centimeters, and the yellow rock had a slightly swirling pattern worn into it. At the left side of the dip, there was a darker area. Crouching, she looked closer. Sure enough, a tiny tunnel, just a few centimeters wide. And there was no way to tell how far it went. She got back on her feet and caught up to Ferra. This planet must have had a lot of surface water at some point to wear all these tunnels into the rock. It would probably fascinate a geologist. Or maybe it was a common occurrence—she didn’t know enough about geology.
Jogging and walking, their feet slapped against the rock, the noise of the Inquisitors tunneling fading behind them. They continued travelling the tunnels, occasionally sliding sideways through another rough, narrow, blasted-out area, but never more than a short step-through to another smooth tunnel. Saree could hear nothing but their feet slapping against the rock and their increasing panting. Finally, Ferra slowed at another split, this one with four branches off the chamber, one of the tunnels barely big enough to crawl into, another too small even for that. There was more red and beige rock here too, the layers swooping wildly. She stopped.
Saree took some deep breaths and stretched her legs while Ferra read her notes. She couldn’t hear any sounds except the two of them. Had they lost the Inquisitors? They must have finished cutting through the narrow red passage, but she couldn’t imagine they were travelling with any kind of stealth. Why would they? They had weapons and numbers on their side.
Taking her pack off, Ferra dropped it on the floor. She stretched her back a bit, then dug into her pack, pulling out a dull silver-colored container. It was about fifteen centimeters long, half that wide and deep, with a locking mechanism on the top. Ferra pushed a sequence of buttons and the narrow end of the box flipped back on a hinge. Putting the box down next to her pack, Ferra pulled out a single heavy glove. Saree peered at the glove. It looked a lot like the radiation protection overgloves Saree used for clock maintenance. Ferra pulled out another item, an odd-looking thing. It was a cylinder, about a centimeter in diameter and three long, with teeth on one end and a T-shaped handle on the other. A rock sampling tool?
