by Mari Collier
“The material tis the finest that Ayran produces for being underneath the waters.” Ishmael assured him. “I told ye my clothes would fit ye.”
They were about to enter the submersible when the com crackled to life.
“Ye are too close to Donnick. Return to Ishner by passing on the east side of Rurhran. We shall be flying overhead. The slightest deviation and we attack.”
Ishmael motioned Lorenz to silence and pressed his speak button. “Pilot set your co-ordinates for Ishner via the far route. We will nay deliver to Troy this trip.”
He grimaced and turned to Lorenz. “Are ye ready?”
“Will this thing launch from below without sinking your ship.”
“Aye, it should. The crew will ken to be ready to man the lifers if it goes ill.”
“Let's go.” Lorenz didn't relish the idea of being inside that elongated tube of confinement, but he followed Ishmael, wishing he had his tobacco. One last cigarette before the… and he closed his mind to the thought. He was almost grateful when they entered the submersible. No more waiting.
“If my ship does go down,” said Ishmael as the submersible seat straps snapped over their shoulders and legs, “there will be too many boats in the sea for one fighter to track. They will nay look below the surface.”
“What if the ship remains intact?”
“They will nay think of it. This has nay been used since before the Justine War. All major ships have them, but there has been nay reason to use them. I've arranged the signal with the next in command.” Ishmael pressed the com button on the board.
“Bring up the nets.”
Lorenz watched as the back of the boat opened and Ishmael guided the submersible into the waters. It was like launching a Scout from inside a Golden One, but this time there was weight all around them and the waters almost as dark as space.
“Can y'all keep this thing from hitting an obstacle and still make Donnick?”
“We should be safe. It automatically adjusts for any object too near and I entered the coordinates this afternoon.”
“How long will it take?” Lorenz realized his throat was tighter than normal.
Ishmael looked at him, his eyebrows lifted.
“I've spent my whole life avoiding being confined. It seems all it takes is being around a Thalian and four walls close in.”
Ishmael grinned. “Aye, this does take a bit of acclimating.”
“Will they let y'all know if your ship is all right?”
“Nay, I've forbid all com links. The Sisters scans would register them.
“The waters are normal. I believe it righted itself and they pumped out any excess water. Tis a fishing boat, ye ken?” He returned to watching the display.
They lapsed into silence until Lorenz felt the upward movement of the craft. Light grey seem to penetrate the waters as though daylight was beginning above them.
“Tis but a couple of more miles now, Lorenz. I did nay speak sooner, but I ken how anxious ye are. We need to put on the breathing units now.”
The straps slid away and Lorenz stood. He hooked the unit over his head and slid his arms through the straps holding the air containers. Ishmael did likewise and went back to watching the screen.
“There tis the shoreline with an old pier less than a mile away.”
“That's probably it. I've seen it from the top, but I didn't go into the water. Y'all should stay here and take this vessel back to your ship.”
“There tis nay enough…”
Fire struck through the top. Another streak landed to the side of them.
Ishmael pointed to the right and pushed the circle to open the side door. Both men dropped and met the water with the arms and hands outstretched and kicked off against the seats. They barreled out into the bay. Lorenz followed Ishner downward and they swam along the bottom toward what he hoped was the right direction.
Water began rolling and tossed them upward and then down. Ishmael was the better swimmer and turned to grab onto Lorenz's side. It was enough to right him and they spread slightly apart to swim towards the shore.
It took thirty minutes to reach the metal posts. Lorenz went underneath the pier and through an opening below a protruding boulder. It took all of thirty-nine seconds to enter the chamber Daniel had talked about. He hoisted himself onto the self-like space and Ishmael followed. Both took off the breathing apparatus and Lorenz stripped his top garment. Light in here was a dim grayish-green blending with the walls and the pool of water. The air was musty.
Ishmael pulled out the lume and hand com. “Did ye want anything else?”
“The stunner.”
“It will nay stop them.”
“I'll feel better.” Lorenz pulled on the shirt and went forward to shine the lume around. A dark opening was just ahead. A tunnel of rock and stone awaited them. He turned the lume back on Ishmael, careful not to shine it on the pool that marked where they had entered.
“I'm wondering just which one of those kids had the guts to go up there first. Do y'all have any idea?”
“Tis hard to say, but JayEll was the leader for a long time. Jarvis was trying to supplant him, but I dinna if he was able.”
“Do y'all want to take a look before we start?”
“Nay, I will follow behind ye. The thought of all that earth around me sits nay better than water with ye. Besides, where else do I go? The Sisters will be patrolling outside and they will find my craft.”
Lorenz nodded. “Will the coms work down here long enough for me to tell Papa to open the panel without giving away our position?”
Ishmael looked at him and then at the pool. “If ye are on but for a few seconds, it may work. If they find this, they will come after us. Plus, when the tide comes in, this will be water covered. Ye can see where the tide has ebbed and flowed. Nay doubt it washes into the tunnel for a certain distance.”
“I'll go into the tunnel first and call from in there. Then we'll start upward.”
Lorenz bent and scrabbled forward. The tunnel was fairly wide here and the air breathable. He shined the lume along the tunnel as far as he could see. It seemed to narrow and he shuddered. The breathing unit would take up too much space and there would be no way to dispose of it. He pressed the com button.
“Papa, open that damn panel. I'm coming in Daniel's way.” He closed the unit. He was just inches inside the tunnel and already sweat had appeared on his forehead. He stuck the com into the wristband and went forward, holding the lume and weapon. Soon he was down on his knees and crawling forward, pushing the lume and stunner ahead of him. He could hear Ishmael crawling behind him.
Time lost meaning for both men. Neither could gauge how long they were in there or how long this scrabbling crawl would take. All that mattered was getting out.
Lorenz knew he couldn't crawl back. How had those four boys done it? He could feel the rock scrapping at his knees and stomach when he pulled himself forward. At least his shoulders hadn't scraped the sides—yet. They continued to inch forward and upward, both men drenched with sweat and silently cursing at the walls below, above, and beside them. It was dark, hard rock, but the passageway remained wide enough to slither and hump through like some creature out of the darkest hell. He kept shoving the weapon in front of him, sometimes using it to push the lume so he could contort his body, slump his shoulders, or try to bring them together, and still the rock clawed at him. At times he could be up on hands and knees, at other times he used the imbedded rocks to pull himself forward. His breath was coming in pants and the rock seemed to be closing around him. Sweat covered every part of him as though he had run miles during the heat of the day, and the air became heavier and thicker. He could feel the thumping of both hearts. The sound of Ishmael wheezing behind him seemed to drop away, and he paused long enough to feel Ishmael touch his ankle before moving again. Lorenz wasn't sure how much longer he could continue when the tunnel seemed to end. He raised his head and realized somehow the air was better. He went up on his knees, surprised a
t the room, and ran the beam from the lume along the wall. The metallic bottom panel of the cabinet met his eyes. Damn, hadn't Papa received his message? His hand went upward and banged into the smooth panel.
Chapter 48: The Battle for Donnick
“Did ye hear that? The blind-eyed mutant tis right there.” Bonni pointed at the space on the map that had lit up. “He just told the Maca to open a panel.”
Beauty had jumped and swiveled her chair at the sound of the male voice over the com scanner. She had entered the Ops room when the fighter's report arrived about a submersible in the bay area. It was eliminated, no survivors had surfaced. She was directing the search for any survivor. Had Ishner been aiding Don? That the mutant had been in the craft was now evident. How had he made it to shore and avoided the patrol? She pressed her command audio to talk with the fighter that had destroyed the submersible.
“Tele, do ye have the coordinates of that last transmission?”
“Aye, Commander.”
“Fire.”
“At what? There tis nay there.”
“Your eyes are bad. Fire.”
“Aye, aye.”
There was silence.
“Well, what did ye hit?”
“The ground, Commander.” The voice was strained.
Beauty stared at the screens. “Do we have that area covered by scanners?”
“Nay there, but closer to the Maca's Tower there are scanners.”
“Use them.” Beauty accessed another channel.
“Llewellyn, what are ye up to? If ye try anything your elder Lamar will suffer.”
There was no response and Beauty fumed. LouElla, on a mission for more instructors and students at Flight, had flown to Bretta just prior to their attack. Beauty was certain that if LouElla had been captured, Llewellyn would have capitulated.
“Send a patrol out to search that area and bring Lamar here. I intend to settle this today if I have to kill every male in Don's House.”
Bonni looked at her with a stricken face.
“Go,” shouted Beauty. “Bring Lamar here. I want him in front of the screen and Llewellyn hearing his screams. I'll alert Captain Bilan to expect ye.”
Bonni ran out of the room in a show of obedience, but partially to hide her face. Lamar was Beatrice's counselor. Both had been kind to her as a child on Betron. Great Betta had always praised Lamar for his bravery and skill as a Warrior. Bonni had discovered she did not like being part of this and the possibility of killing more Thalians. Where could she hide? Nay here on Don, nay could she return to her Maca now.
It took her but minutes to find a fliv and fly to the Don Guardian's Home. Bonni was relieved to find Bilan waiting for her. Bilan was sensible; a Betron Tri who had been claimed by the House of Army and given commanded of a squad. Her duties here consisted of guarding Lamar and Beatrice and keeping the First Sector of Don quiet. Perhaps Captain Bilan could advise her.
Captain Bilan met her at the padport and snarled. “Why dinna ye bring a cairt. We will need more than two to guard them.”
“The Maca of Don has control of the vehicles.”
“There tis nay Maca of Don. What tis the matter with ye?”
Bilan turned and snapped orders at two troopers. “Bring Lamar and Beatrice. We'll fly Lamar to our Center and march Beatrice there.”
She turned back to Bonni and noted the doubt on her face and in her eyes. “Now, what tis bothering ye?”
Bonni looked up. Bilan was impressive in size even for a Betron. The face was broad and square and her brown eyes did nay miss much. Bilan had always expressed a concern for the troopers under her and she extended the courtesy to others like Bonni, a technician.
“I fear that Beauty means to harm Lamar in some manner. He has always been a gentle counselor for Beatrice.”
“Ye worry needlessly. Our Commander kens that would turn the rest of the Houses to Don.”
Bilan patted Bonni's shoulder. “I now order ye back to our Center. Mala and Teona will go with ye. I and the rest of my troop will be there within twenty minutes.”
“Why so many? Lamar tis aging and has but one arm.”
Bilan looked at her. “Tech, I gave ye an order.” She walked to the back of the home. The tech dinna ken how dangerous Beatrice and Lamar could be: dangerous and treacherous.
* * *
Llewellyn heard the blow as he reached for the panel and lifted it. Lorenz's hands grasped the sides and Llewellyn reached in to grab his laddie's forearms and pull him out of the tunnel and up into his arms.
“It took ye long enough to get here.” His voice was rough and he held Lorenz closer than normal.
Lorenz was still gasping, and his body shook at the thought of ever being entombed again. Sweat still ran from his hairline, but his breathing gradually returned to normal. He was surprised to find he was hanging on to his father's biceps.
“Papa, Ishmael, he's still in there.” He panted the words out.
Llewellyn released him and knelt in front of the open cabinet. Ishmael was partially sprawled over the cabinet floor. His wet hair was plastered against his skull and like Lorenz, he was taking great gulps air. Llewellyn pulled him out and then enfolded him in an embrace, not as long, but heartfelt.
“Ye took a great risk helping my laddie, Lad of Ishner. Don thanks ye.”
“That's not all y'all have to thank him for, Papa.”
Llewellyn turned to see Lorenz stripping off the underwater clothing and lifting a bag hanging around his neck.
“Ishmael brought this all the way from Jolene. As Laird, he insisted I carry it.”
Llewellyn took the bag and dumped the contents onto his hand. He ran his thumb over the twenty-sided blue crystal Jolene had crafted and sent.
“Jolene said ye would ken where it goes.” Ishmael was speaking. “It tis nay as powerful as the red icosahedron, but nay of the Houses have that crystal. The Justines destroyed them all.”
Lorenz was stripping out of the tight binding pants. “Sure, and it never snows in the winter.” He tossed the clothes aside. “I'm betting Jolene has one if she can make that one.”
Llewellyn looked up and smiled. “Lorenz's clothes and shoes are in the closet. It looks like they will also fit ye, Ishmael. I'll be in the Ops room. Mither, Beatrice, and I had repaired Don's shields when the Sisters landed.” His smile grew broader.
“They are about to lose their fighters.” He turned and ran out of the room, his broad shoulders barely clearing the door.
Ishmael was busy stripping off his garments. “Where are the showers?”
“Behind us.” Both men bolted for the door.
“Tis big enough for both if ye dinna object.”
“Hell, I've bathed with many a hand in an open space.”
Lorenz slammed the door and the warm, soapy spray descended, gradually changing to the clear stinging rinse. Warm air blew over them as the water stopped.
Lorenz hit the panel beside the shower door and the closet door slid back. The clothes hung in graduated sizes. Lorenz's were among the smallest. He handed a spare to Ishamel and grabbed a pair of his soft boots. They were narrower than most arrayed on the wall. “Find a pair that y'all think will fit.”
He hurriedly pulled on the clothes and headed for the cold food cabinet. “There's probably a brew if they haven't drank or eaten everything here. Would y'all like one? Then we'll need to tell Papa about the reinforcements.” He opened the door to an almost empty space. How long had they been on short rations?
The com sprang to life and Beauty's face appeared. She looks like a gloating politician, Lorenz thought.
“Ye mutant from another world, the man ye call Elder has words to say to ye.”
Her face was replaced by Lamar with two guards on either side. It looked like they were there to keep him from falling.
Lorenz heard the intake of Ishmael's breath. “They have used the rods on him. It tis forbidden by law.”
Lamar raised his eyes. Lorenz grimaced. It was plain to see the
man was in pain and his lips were bleeding.
“Llewellyn, my laddie, they wish me to tell ye how and where ye are to surrender.” He straightened his shoulders. In a movement almost too quick to discern, the old Warrior knotted his good hand and swiveled his body to slam his fist into the midsection of the guard on his right.
“Thalia!” he screamed and tried to raise his fist again as three Army Sisters piled on top of him.
In the background they heard another voice. “Commander, we need reinforcements. We have been attacked by a troop twice our size. Send a fighter to these coordinates.”
For a moment the screen went blank and then Beauty was back.
“Llewellyn, your elder will die if ye dinna speak. Do ye see that fighter rising now? Whatever ye had planned will nay work.”
Lorenz and Ishmael glanced at the blue, tinted round windows and saw the dark fighter rise out of Flight Center. A blue streak reached out and slammed into it, bits of metal flying in all directions, and burnt, flaming bodies tumbling earthward.
“He has installed the crystal.” Ishmael's voice was hushed. “Dear Gar, what would the red one do?”
Llewellyn's voice came into the room over the private com link. “Why do the Sisters assigned to the Secong Sector need reinforcements?”
Lorenz stepped up to the panel and pressed the circle for intrabuilding communication. “Brenda and Jolene sent extra troopers. They figured y'all needed some help. Grandmère is leading them.”
Llewellyn's voice boomed out over the city com. “People of Don, attack the Sisters holding the Centers.”
Beauty was back on the screen yelling at him. “Llewellyn, if ye take out the fighters ye will have destroyed Thalia's defenses. Tis all Thalia has.”
“Ye, Beauty, have already destroyed Thalia. Do ye surrender? If nay, the remaining fighters and any Sister that tis in or near them will die. Fight me in the streets and we will end this. If I win, I will bed ye in the streets for your debt.”
