by David Wood
Dig realized he now saw through the eyes of the creatures. The mantics. He leaped from one to the next to the next, seeing what they saw, feeling their stresses, their drives. As the realization dawned the process increased, clearer than ever, like flipping from one television channel to another, ever more rapidly. Through the eyes of one, then another, and then another, he traveled at great speed along the tunnels, even as his body stumbled and staggered along, as if of its own accord.
And then he saw a dull, green glow approaching, and realized it was himself, carrying the idol. Through numerous other eyes, he watched a kaleidoscope of Digs tripping and jogging through the darkness. As he approached himself, the brightness of the idol became too much and the creatures closed their eyelids and turned their heads away.
Dig became at once himself and the creatures, he sensed them lurking nearby, so many of them, but knew also their reluctance to draw near the idol. In snatched glimpses he watched himself pass by, protected by his treasure, and sensed himself go deeper, ever toward that other presence.
Then that presence became a pressure in his mind, a force of unknowable puissance. And he realized he only perceived the edge of it, as if just nudging the very tip of something too massive to comprehend. Yet he was also somehow a part of it. Could he share its thoughts and sensations like he shared those of the mantics all around him? Did he dare?
He reached out with his mind, seeking, and for a split second became aware of inconceivable age, of omnipresence. He was deep beneath waters of emerald green. A Jade Sea. Somehow he knew that was the proper name for the place. And then the presence turned its attention to him and he screamed. Too much, overwhelming. Howling, he felt himself falling, and everything went black.
29
Aston felt a slight hint of madness tickling his mind, only just beaten out by the overpowering sense of wonder. The short low tunnels, the caverns, however large and intricate with vines and crystals, paled into insignificance against the sight before them. The passageway opened out onto a wide, slightly sloping, apron of rock. Standing with the passage at their backs, the space in front of them was gargantuan. The roof of the new cavern had to be a hundred feet above, the walls fanned out to make the place at least five hundred feet across, probably more. The walls and ceiling were bright with glowing green vines and crystals, filling the cavern with a soft glow. Stalactites dozens of feet long hung in profusion from above and filling the cavern floor was a city.
Buildings of one or two stories, some carved into the walls of the cavern, others built from quarried stone, stood in seemingly random rows and groups. In places the natural topography of the ground made the clusters of buildings closer together or further apart, most had small windows, all had low doorways, the majority without doors. Between them, stalagmites stood where trees might adorn a normal town.
“What the..?” Slater breathed, but nobody else had a voice to share.
Then Reid moved forward, pointed with his assault rifle. “Bodies. Old ones.”
The group walked cautiously in amongst the buildings. Houses? Aston wondered. What else could they be? And sure enough, there were dozens of corpses lying in the streets, clearly the remains of a battle fought a long time ago. They were desiccated, mostly skeletal, but with remnants of dried and browned flesh hanging to the bones like human jerky. They still bore the ragged remains of clothing, military uniforms, and some broken weapons lay near them.
Reid went to one and crouched, looked closely at the insignia on the uniform. “Russian,” he said. “I’m a bit of a military history nerd. I recognize these. Early- to mid-nineteen-fifties.”
“Did they fall prey to the mantics?” Sol asked.
Aston spotted something and shook his head. “Maybe some, but not all. Look.” He pulled a bloodstone knife from under one corpse, not unlike the one that had killed Professor Murray Lee.
“Knife wounds are evident in the remaining flesh of this one too,” Reid said.
“And here,” Syed confirmed, crouching near more bodies. “All three of these have stab marks in the skin, and scoring on the bones of their ribs.” She gently moved a skull and winced. “Looks like this one was stabbed right through the left eye.” Moving another, she checked the head again. “This one was bludgeoned, so not only knife attacks.”
“But all pretty primitive weapons,” Aston said. “They must have had a large advantage of numbers, given these soldiers were armed with guns.”
He moved further along one street and spotted another bloodstone blade protruding from the rib cage of a fallen soldier. It appeared a little different from the others. Instead of a simple long, pointed oval of stone with a rounded grip, this one was carved into the shape of a long, curved dagger. The craftsmanship was magnificent, the details intricate, a cross-guard at the hilt, fine lines along the blade and a perfect, razor-sharp edge along one side. He slipped it out from between the dead man’s ribs and turned it over slowly in his hands, admiring it. What was this stuff, that Lee had dubbed bloodstone? He’d never seen stone quite like it before. And why did these attackers use it? It could be simply a lack of metals in the underground catacombs that had driven whoever these people were into a kind of stone age, but why this particular stone? Was it unique to this region? And yet it was unlike all the rock they had encountered so far, so it must have been mined elsewhere. Perhaps deeper, or in some part of the underground network they had yet to see. Or perhaps brought with them from wherever they had originated. Thoughts of alien origins flickered through his mind again, but he pushed the idea aside. Regardless, he felt that he should keep at least one of these weapons close to hand. He still had the one he’d taken from Lee’s chest.
Catching Slater’s eye, he gestured for her to join him. She and Marla came over together, eyebrows raised. He saw fear like his own reflected in their expressions. “Hold onto this,” he said, handing Slater the blade that had killed Lee. He gave Marla the one from under the corpse he had found moments before, and kept the intricately carved one for himself.
“Why?” Slater asked.
Aston shrugged. “Call it intuition. I just feel like we should hold onto them. Besides, as we recently established, we don’t have many bullets left. At the very least they’re a weapon that’s easy to use, and knives won’t run out of ammo. Better than bare fists, I guess.”
Slater and Marla shared a nervous glance, then both nodded and slipped the blades into their jackets. Aston pocketed his, too.
“This is too weird,” Tate said from the back of the small group.
“No shit,” Marla muttered.
Tate gave a small, humorless laugh. “Well, yeah, a huge city under the Antarctic is weird, but I mean the battle. Where are the bodies of the others? Whoever was fighting the Russians? Did they kill them all with no casualties on their side? Seems unlikely.”
“More likely they carried their own dead away,” Reid said, standing and looking around the huge space. “To hide their losses, maybe? Or just out of respect, to conduct burial rituals or whatever.”
“Yeah,” Aston agreed. “And I can’t help wondering if the survivors are still here.”
30
Consciousness crawled back into Dig O’Donnell’s brain and he gagged, certain he was going to vomit. He coughed up only bitter bile, and spat it onto the cold rock. When was the last time he ate? As he sucked in his next breath, green and black visions scattered past his mind’s eye, the kaleidoscopic view of a hundred mantics, still hiding in the darkness all around him, and concealed in dozens of other places throughout the network of tunnels and caves.
He tried to remember what had happened, why he had fallen. He recalled the touch of that ancient mind, that all-powerful consciousness. He recalled how it had threatened to burst his brain like a squeezed pimple. With a sob, he pushed the thoughts from his mind, staggered to his feet and stumbled in blind circles. The mantics’ sight flooded him again and that sighing, whispering voice goaded him on. As if drawn by a magnet, he leaned sideways and
staggered with the motion lest he fall. Before he knew it, he was running along dark passages, taking turns and forks as if a native to the way.
Diiiiiigggbyyyyyyy...
Diiiiiiiggggbbyyyyyyyyy...
He kept going, down and down and down. And then he emerged into a space that was wide and cold and huge. The rock above his head curved up and away, rising to hundreds of feet above where it gave off am unearthly glow from the vine-like growths and clusters of bright green crystals. And below it, spreading as far as Dig could see, was a sea of glowing green. The Jade Sea. The water itself sparkled, illuminated from within by ethereal light.
This was the place. The presence lived here, that ecstatic being. Seeking to bask in its manifestation, Dig moved to the edge of the water and dipped his finger in. He anticipated the action would lead him to feel closer to the presence, but it didn’t. Frowning, he moved forward, up to his knees in the water, the rock solid beneath his feet. It was cool, but not freezing. He sensed dozens of mantics draw up behind him, saw himself from behind through their eyes.
Then his mind and stomach lurched and he saw himself from inside the water, standing there, the idol hugged still to his chest. From directly below, he saw himself through the eyes of a fish that swam up to his feet, even as he himself watched the fish approach.
He was Digby and he was the fish. He grabbed it, or perhaps it swam into his hands, he didn’t know which and the distinction was irrelevant anyway. He raised the fish, glittering and dripping from the water, and took a bite. He howled as he felt teeth tearing through him, screamed in agony and shuddered in ecstasy simultaneously as tears rolled down his face.
And then the great presence took hold of him, controlled him, and he gave himself to it willingly, gladly, with abandon. He dropped to his knees, the glittering water lapping about his waist, and received the visions of the mighty awareness.
31
Larsen ran through darkness, the thunder of assault rifle fire deafening behind him. His flashlight beam danced left and right as he scanned the floor to avoid falling, bursts of light from the weapons fire occasionally reflecting off damp rock above.
He knew they were hopelessly lost. Whatever memory of the route they had taken had been abandoned in the panic. Wherever the green cavern might be, he didn’t think he would ever find it again. Retracing their steps might be possible by following the trail of broken and bleeding creatures and soldiers, but that seemed incredibly unlikely as there were far more monsters than men and any chance of returning the way they had come seemed a foolish hope. Survival seemed a foolish hope.
He rounded a bend, saw another fork ahead. The gunfire stopped and he glanced back. Only Olsen and Jensen were there, and they both barreled right past him, running headlong. He caught glimpses of dozens of the giant, insect-like creatures skittering along the passage toward them. Only two fighters left, and they’d both given up. As they veered down the left fork, Larsen broke into a run and chased them.
His satchel bounced heavy against his hip, containing a possible escape, if only he had time to use it. Unbeknownst to the mercs, one of his plans was something of a final solution. If they couldn’t take control of the green cavern, and all the valuable greenium it contained, he carried explosives to bring it all down, killing everyone still in it. Halvdan would be able to excavate later, assuming Larsen led him to the collapsed cave. The greenium would survive. Or Larsen could have sold the secret to someone else, played Halvdan off against some other interest. If he was the only one left with the knowledge of the valuable stuff’s location, his options were legion. But all those plans hadn’t taken into account a swarm of monsters. How could anyone have considered that possibility?
Weighing his options now, he found himself in a considerably less favorable situation than any he had entertained. If he had time, just a few moments, to arm the explosives, he could blow the passageway behind them to keep the creatures at bay. He was reluctant, both because it would potentially waste the explosives and also cut off their only known means of escape. But it was completely cut off right now by hordes of creatures anyway.
They stumbled out into another cave, like the green cavern with the pool, but much smaller. Even so, the vine-like growths lit it with a soft glow. Olsen looked back and slowed, then stopped.
Larsen paused to see what had caught the mercenaries’ attention. The passage behind them was empty. Olsen cautiously approached, shined his flashlight into the darkness.
“They’re holding back,” he said. He moved the flashlight left and right, then again, then smiled. “They don’t like the light. They’re avoiding this cave, and my flashlight.”
“This won’t buy us much time,” Larsen said. “We still can’t go back that way, there’s too many to hold off by shining flashlights in their eyes. Eventually our batteries will die. Then we will. They live here, surely they can’t avoid all the caverns with enough vines to light them?”
Olsen frowned. “They are moving slowly forward.”
“Letting their eyes adjust to the change in brightness, I expect,” Larsen asked. “I think maybe it just takes them a while.”
“Maybe.”
“Only one tunnel leading out,” Jensen said. “Sir, maybe we should just keep moving for now?”
Olsen nodded and took the lead again, Jensen hot on his heels as they left the cave by the opposite side. Larsen stared down the passage with the reluctant creatures, thinking again about his explosives. Perhaps this brightness would buy them enough of a head start to survive. He’d think again if they started to catch up. But he knew he had to do something soon, else they’d all be dead.
32
Aston explored the bizarre subterranean city with Slater and Marla close by him, while Sol moved with Reid and Tate. Syed sat with Jen on a kind of bench carved from the rock beside one small house.
They found the far side of the habitation, the whole place maybe five hundred feet across and perhaps a thousand feet long. Completely empty now, long abandoned, even the buildings were empty of possessions or furnishings. Other than the bodies of the Russian soldiers near the entrance, the place was devoid of any signs of life beyond its construction. Several passages led away from the city, most of them small and dark. The biggest were the one they had entered by, and another one of a similar size directly opposite, on the far side of the city. It was a kind of Russian roulette deciding which to take, Aston mused. Maybe they could cautiously explore each one for a little while, map the place out, and then decide which way to go. If nothing else, this city and the numerous exits gave him hope there would be another way to the surface, if only they could find it.
“I don’t think there’s anything else to discover in here,” Aston said eventually. “It feels like this place was cleaned out a long time ago. Like, eons ago.”
“We should rest,” Sol said.
“I’ve lost all idea of what time of day or night it might be up there,” Marla said.
Sol looked at his watch. “Well, the actual time is mid-morning. But that’s a bit irrelevant now. We had our night interrupted at God knows what time. Other than a couple of hours rest before Dig attacked Jen, we’ve hardly slept in two days. We’re all exhausted, we have shelter here, so I say we take the chance to sleep.”
“Good idea,” Reid said. “But we do it in shifts, always two people on watch. I’ll take the first, then Tate can take the second. Who’ll stay up with me?”
“I will,” Marla said. “I’m too buzzed to rest right now anyway.”
“I don’t think we should rest in any of the dwellings though,” Slater said. “Feels like too easy a place to be trapped.”
Aston pointed over to their right. “There’s a kind of natural clearing over there. Some rougher ground, a little raised. Gives a good view all around.”
Reid nodded. “Sounds like a plan, let’s go.”
Before long they had established a small camp on the rocky clearing, finding places to lie that were the least uncomfortable given the c
ircumstances. Reid sat on one side, looking back toward the tunnel they had entered by. Marla sat on the other side, her back to him, staring disconsolately off in the direction of the other largest way out.
Aston lay down with Slater close by, her back to him. He reached out, laid one hand on her shoulder. She patted his hand, but neither of them spoke. Syed and Jen settled not far away. Tate lay down right behind where Marla sat. Sol sat beside Reid, the two men talking in whispers. Aston thought how it might be nice to spend some time with Slater when they weren’t in mortal danger one day. First a dinosaur, now this. He vowed that once they got out of here, he would try to take Slater somewhere nice and safe. If she’d have him. Her breathing slowed and exhaustion crept over Aston like a tide. He closed his eyes.
Sudden, ear-shattering gunfire ripped him back from sleep seemingly moments later. Tate had rolled up onto one knee and was rapid-firing bursts left and right. Reid and Sol on the other side stood back to back, firing with apparent abandon.
“The bastards are everywhere!” Tate screamed, finding her feet and pushing Marla behind her.
