Two hours and a break; two hours and a break. She wished there was a public toilet down here, but there wasn’t. The sharp stink of urine followed them for a long way, even without the scent enhancement her implant could have provided. Long-forgotten memories pushed at her consciousness. She pushed them back, straining like clothes in an over-filled suitcase when you tried to close the lid.
Then came a set of steeper stairs, laid out like a normal staircase where each step brings a new riser.
“Good. We must be approaching the bottom,” Unwyn said. He leapt down like a mountain goat.
Knees complaining, she winced her way down, one weary step at a time, Ravindra half a step further back.
“A little further,” he said. “Just a little further.”
Unwyn was waiting for them at the bottom, leaning casually against the wall. He shouldered the pack and walked on.
Ravindra drew close. “I’m intrigued why you find this so scary if you can see in the dark.”
“I can’t see much with the lights off. Infra-red, ultra-violet. And it isn’t the dark I can see. It’s what I can’t see, the dark I’m not looking at.”
She shivered. Memories welled again, eyes in corners, tentacles reaching out in a cellar.
“Space is colder and darker.”
“Sure. But there you haven’t got a mountain pressing down on you.”
The ground had become uneven and rocks littered the surface. They slipped and slid in silence for a distance while she fought with the disturbing notion that the debris had come from the walls or roof. In fact, the condition of the tunnel had deteriorated so much she could almost believe she was in a natural cave. There seemed to be more mould here, too, along dark moisture stains on the walls and roof.
“Tell me, where does this fear of the dark come from?” Ravindra asked.
She swallowed. She’d never talked about it; not to anyone but it might keep her mind off speculating about the geology. “I was accidentally locked in a cellar for a time when I was small.”
“How small?”
“I was seven years old.” Did he think it was funny? Had she detected amusement in his tone?
“What happened down there?”
Monsters. Monsters hid in the corners. Tentacles peeked out from packing crates. Teeth leered, great huge dripping fangs. Furtive noises all around her, shuffles and squeaks, coming to get her. She’d cried and yelled and sobbed and banged at the door until her fists were raw.
“I snuck in and hid. It was supposed to be a joke. My father didn’t know. He turned out the light and locked the door. I was down there for almost a whole day before they found me. And I didn’t know how to see in the dark, then. I learned much later.”
“So nothing happened?”
“A rat ran over my foot.”
He laughed.
Easy for him to laugh. “I was cold and hungry and thirsty. I had to go to the toilet in a corner. I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”
“Really?” Ravindra’s voice bubbled. She turned to look at him, at the laughter in his eyes and the corners of his lips.
“Yes, really.”
It was true. The sheer, naked terror she’d experienced down there in the cellar, alone in the darkness had tormented her dreams for years. A quiver ran up through her feet. Morgan stopped. A few meters ahead, Unwyn tensed.
“What is it?”
“A tremor. Not much. Let’s hope it’s over.”
The ground buckled. She staggered, fighting to maintain her balance. Not monsters here; nothing she could fight. A rumbling roar filled the tunnel, surging up toward them with a choking cloud of dust and grit that filled her eyes and pattered against her clothing.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Morgan.” Ravindra’s heart raced. If anything had happened to her… Dust spiraled and swirled in the lantern light as the last pattering cascade settled into silence.
“Here.” She leant, one-handed, against the tunnel wall.
He sucked in air and spat out grit, sighing with relief. “Are you all right?” He shone the lantern at her. Her hair was covered in dust, her face smudged.
“Yes. A few scratches,” she said, dusting herself off ineffectually with her hands. “You?”
“Yes. Fine.”
“Where’s Unwyn?”
He shot a glance at her but her reaction seemed normal enough. “Under that.”
The lantern light played over blocks of stone that filled the tunnel.
“Oh… fuck.” She sagged against the wall, drained. “It’s all my fault.”
“That the roof collapsed? Hardly.” He started pulling at the rocks. “You never know with these things. He may be alive.”
“Just a second. Stay quiet. I’ll see if I can hear him.” She went still, staring down into the rubble for a few moments while he stared at her. “He’s alive.”
“How do you know?”
“I can hear his heart.” She shot a wry glance at him. “Another thing you don’t know about me. I can accentuate my hearing far beyond any human’s.”
“I see.” Something else that made her different. Astonishing. “So. Let’s get him out.” He started to dig, pulling boulders away with his bare hands.
She joined him. Stone after stone they moved, careful not to cause another avalanche. Occasionally a stone slipped, loud in the confines of the tunnel. His heart beat too fast. He didn’t like it here, either. What he’d give to be back where he belonged, out in space. He moved another rock and uncovered a dusty hand. He knelt and felt for a pulse while Morgan checked again in her own way. No breath, no heartbeat.
“He’s dead,” she said.
He stood, wiping his hands, and glanced back at the blocked tunnel. “I wouldn’t have expected he could survive this. But we had to try.”
“Yes.” She bowed her head. “Poor man. What a way to die.”
Ravindra placed a hand on her shoulder and she didn’t shrug him away. “Was he special to you? A friend?”
A lover? He couldn’t say the words. He steadied his pulse. Brutal, he knew, but if he had been special, he wasn’t any more.
“I liked him; I liked him a lot. He was closer to me than anybody else on Krystor.” She sighed. “I feel guilty for hijacking him and bringing him down here to his death. He should be celebrating his wonderful find, not crushed to death under a mountain of rock.”
She liked him a lot. Was that how a woman would describe her lover, where she came from? Not in those words, surely? “The best thing we can do for him is get out of here and show this planet what he found.”
She looked up at him. “So we go back up to face Lakshmi’s goons?”
“There’s no guarantee we can. If it’s fallen here, it may have fallen up there. Let’s look for options here.”
He released her and directed the lantern along the walls and ceiling. And noticed a hint of a crack at the base of the wall, half hidden by rubble. If they hadn’t searched for Unwyn, they would have missed it. He pulled a few pieces away.
“Looks like it widens a little.” He pulled a few more pieces aside. “There’s an open space behind it.”
He lifted a rock and set it carefully aside, then another. He could hear her breathing as she worked beside him, the scrape of stone on stone, the clunk as the rocks were placed on the pile. His muscles aching, he bent down for another rock. If this didn’t lead somewhere, they may yet have to go back up. The crack widened into a fissure. Time to see what might be on the other side.
He put a hand on Morgan’s arm. “I think that’s enough.”
She nodded, brushing the hair from her forehead with a grubby arm.
The gap was wide enough to at least take a look. He lay flat on his stomach, poked the lantern into the gap and peered through. The beam shone on rows of pillars that rose up to the ceiling, the lower parts smooth and round, the tops carved into the fashion of tree branches. The end walls of the space were invisible. This was remarkable; astonishing. It had to have been b
uilt, a temple under the earth.
He pulled away and staggered to his feet. “Look, Suri. Look at this.”
Morgan took his place, her face inside the crevice. “Wow. This is awesome.”
“Can you get through?”
“I think so.” She eased her shoulders around and wriggled, pushing aside some more of the debris with her hips. Rocks shifted, grated, settled. She froze.
“Try again,” he said, his heart racing. All he needed now was for her to be trapped under a collapsed wall. “Gently.”
Using her legs to brace herself, she pushed. Part of her torso disappeared from view. One last wriggle and she was gone. A moment later her face reappeared, the lantern light reflecting from her silver eyes. “Okay.”
He passed his lantern through to her and eased his body into the gap. His back and his stomach scraped against stone. He angled his body so he could ease a shoulder through. A few pebbles clattered and rolled, pattering, to a halt. The stone creaked.
“Hurry, Srimana.” Her voice was urgent.
The stone creaked again, louder this time, with an accompanying timpani of falling debris.
His heart hammering, he shoved, uncaring, and rolled onto a dusty, littered floor just as the crack filled with sound and dust and grit. Rocks clattered, skittered across the floor, pattered into heavy silence.
He stood, dusting his hands. His eyes met hers and he smiled, sharing warmth. “We’d better hope this leads somewhere.”
“I’m hoping as hard as I can.”
The pillars rose in serried ranks, their number lost in the shadows beyond the beams of lantern light.
“What do you think it was, this place?” Morgan said.
“I don’t know. But it looks formal, so not a warehouse. And it has a feel about it; religious.”
She nodded. “It reminds me a little of a cathedral.”
“Yes. A temple.” His voice boomed, echoed, bouncing off the distant walls.
She pushed away some of the accumulated rubble on the floor with her foot, revealing little tiles set close together.
“Frescoes. Down here. This place is amazing.” He crossed to a pillar and let his fingers trail on the surface. Underneath the dust the stone gleamed with a soft luster.
He ventured further into the chamber, between the columns, Morgan close behind. It was like a forest, pillar after pillar. He counted them as they walked past; ten pillars. The pattern had changed. A double line of columns, their tops connected by a decorated arch, ran at right angles to the direction in which they walked.
“This looks like the nave. And look down there.” He played the light around his feet, revealing a pattern of intertwined leaves. “See how an edging pattern goes along both sides?”
They walked side by side to the left, under the arched colonnade.
“There’s light here,” Morgan said.
“There is?”
“Yes. Faint. Coming down in a single beam onto whatever’s up here.”
He stopped and switched off his lantern. Ahead of them a soft light shone on something that gleamed dimly in response. He turned his lantern back on. “Best see what it is, first.”
He shone the light on the rear wall. A group of carved figures stood together in a raised area. A bundle lay on the floor propped against the plinth.
They walked on, listening for sounds, smells, whispers of air—anything, his eyes fixed on the carvings. The plinth proved to be the carved surrounds of a pool, the water reflecting the light from the shaft high above. Four figures, a little larger than life size, stood along the back edge of the pool where it met the cavern’s wall. Two figures, much taller than the others but headless, stood on pedestals in the pool. The heads lay face up in the water.
He shone the lantern on the bundle on the floor.
It was a skeleton.
The figure sat with its back against the pool surround, the skull propped back against the stone, the lower jaw hanging open. It wore a robe of dark material, collapsed into the cavity under the ribs. White digits protruded from the long sleeves and the feet still wore sandals. A knife lay next to the right hand.
He picked up the knife and tested the edge. “Not bad. But I can sharpen it.”
She frowned. “Unwyn’s colleagues will want to investigate.”
“Then I’ll give it back to them. We have a greater need.”
Questions lined up in his head. Who was he or she? How long had they been dead? Why? What happened?
She must have been thinking the same thing. “Trapped here?”
“Maybe. Maybe left here to die, or to commit suicide.”
“Why do you say that?”
“There’s been violence here. The central figures have been decapitated. Look at the bas relief. I’d guess they are the four classes of manesa. See? The Shuba carries a spade, the Hasta a laboratory flask, the Vesha has sacks of goods around his feet and the Mirka carries weapons. The things in the middle… some sort of Gods?” He stepped closer to play the light on the fallen heads.
“Round eyes.” She went still again, staring at the heads in the water. “These are the people from that secret room upstairs. The match is ninety percent.”
He stared at her. Was there no end to what she could do?
She gave him a shame-faced grin and pointed at her head. “I have an on-board computer, remember?”
“Would they have had?” He jerked his head at the statues.
She turned to the skeleton. A tremor ran through her body and she gasped. “It has an implant. I can’t read it, but it’s there, near its ear.”
“But… that’s… that’s incredible.” This place had to be thousands of years old. He walked around to the other side of the skeleton and peered, lantern in hand. The light glinted off a disc attached to the skull just above where the ear would have been.
Incredible but true.
He shone the light beyond the figures on the wall at the carving around them. A sun and planets; a solar system. And a word.
“Maybe these two brought the manesa here,” she said. “Don’t ask me how. And that solar system is where they came from.”
And where she came from? But an image of a sun and its attendant planets could be anywhere. “My impression of this place is that the two in the middle assumed the status of gods. This place is a monument to them. The manesan figures are smaller, so they had lesser status. And then somebody decided they weren’t gods.” He gestured at the corpse beside the pool. “And that’s one of them or perhaps a high priest or something.”
“Based on a skull comparison there’s a very good chance this is the man; the Orionar male we saw up there in the shrine.”
He was past being surprised. A Supertech; such an understatement. Brilliant and beautiful. “Demoted and left to die, like any other mortal. I can’t see any obvious cause of death. The woman… I felt the room up there was a shrine to her. Perhaps she’d died of natural causes. So many questions. But fascinating as it is, it doesn’t get us out of here.”
“No, it doesn’t. I wonder how the people got into this place?”
“Good question. Let’s go down the other end.”
They walked together between the columns, all senses on high alert. But no stir of air disturbed the darkness, no footprints except their own had marred the pristine dust. The place had been defiled and deserted, maybe thousands of years ago, very likely before Krystor had been abandoned.
The far wall emerged from the gloom as they approached. The lantern light illuminated a magnificent arch supported by two elaborate pillars shaped in the likeness of trees. But the massive door between the pillars was locked.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Asbarthi glared at his sanvad and slid it back into its holder. Still no answer from Lakshmi. Where was the woman? “I can’t wait any longer. I have important matters to attend to.” Like slicing out Ravindra’s heart. He felt a frisson of pleasure at the thought.
The newly-promoted commander of Zaffra Bay military base
leaned his elbows on his desk behind the polished name plate; Admiral Iniman. “You need have no concerns on our part. The base is secure.”
So it seemed. Outside a squadron of fighters wearing the decals of the new government lined up, preparing for a routine practice which would take them across some of the smaller cities. Just to make the point. The engines filled the air with a howl of sound. Quite deafening, really. Why a commander would want to have his office quite so close to all that noise was beyond his understanding.
“Well then…” he rose and his sanvad chimed. At last. Lakshmi. No. Barad’s face looked at him from the screen.
“Barad?” The fellow swallowed, dithered. His pulse beat a little faster. The noise from outside grew. “What has happened?”
“Admiral Ravindra has escaped, Hai Sur.” He gabbled the words, blurted them out.
He froze, white hot rage surging through him, tensing his body. “What?”
“We found the guard in his cell, dressed in his uniform.”
“Alive?” He wouldn’t be for long.
“No. He’d been killed.”
What a pity. He would have enjoyed twisting a knife into the incompetent idiot’s gut. Selwood. Selwood must have rescued him. Maybe they were lovers. Lakshmi was right, he couldn’t trust the woman, should never have trusted her. “Has Hai Sur Sayvu arrived?”
“Yes, Hai Sur.”
“Convey my apologies. I shall remain here.”
He ended the call and shot a glance at Iniman, rigid with shock in his chair. “Seal your perimeters, Iniman. Ravindra is alive. I expect he’ll aim for here.”
“Ravindra.” Iniman gaped like a hooked fish.
“Oh, close your flapping mouth. He’s just another Darya. He will bleed, as they all do.” Oh yes, he would bleed; and he’d make the Orionar freak watch. Meanwhile, Lakshmi needed to know. He pressed the re-dial. Still no answer.
Morgan's Choice Page 22
