by Ilsa J. Bick
“And it might be awhile. I can wait.” He held her eyes. “But I’m not going to wait too long.”
She said nothing more, only carefully gathered up wrappers because that’s what they taught you on those cave tours: Litter in, litter out.
Just like my plans. They were only so much garbage. Nothing had worked out, gone the way it was supposed to. Not now and not back in Afghanistan. “Who should I call?”
“My mom. Evangeline. She’s in Traverse City. Moved to this pretty nice little place on the peninsula. She’s got this crazy idea she wants to grow grapes, which I thought was pretty weird until I found out that Michigan’s, like, number four when it comes to growing grapes.” His eyes were suddenly too glittery. “Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah.” She touched his shoulder. “Before you do anything…give it some time.”
“Oh yeah.” The knob of his Adam’s apple bobbled in a liquid swallow. “You bet.”
Chapter 14
“Wow.” Craning, An followed a scintillating cascade to the limits of Kate’s headlamp. “I don’t see an opening.”
“There’s an opening.” They’d followed the tunnel for a long time before Kate felt the change in her artificial knees, the tilt of her prosthetic ankles, the muscles straining in her thighs. Going uphill. This, she thought, was a good sign. As they followed the white beam of her headlamp, she listened because sound travels well in tunnels, too. There was the clop of their footfalls, the click of Dax’s nails on stone, the soft sigh of the cave’s exhalations—and then she’d heard the unmistakable splash of water.
The cascade sheeted down from a square-cut opening to disappear through a chute on the floor and whose terminus she couldn’t see or hear. From the look of a series of beams crisscrossing the space, she thought she was either looking into an old evacuation shaft or played-out seam. Neither was bad, although an evacuation shaft would be a straighter shot. Miners followed seams wherever they led and no seam ever followed a straight line. But this has to open up somewhere at or near the surface. “I’m going to turn off my headlamp, okay?” As a spasm of fear creased the girl’s features, she said, “Just for a second. I want to see if there’s any daylight. There’s too much glare from our lamps.”
“Okay, but…” An couldn’t quite disguise the fear. Stepping closer to Dax, she put a hand on the animal’s back as if to steady herself. “Go ahead.”
Closing her eyes, Kate snapped off her light, waited a moment then stepped as close to the stream as she could without getting herself soaked. At first, there was nothing at all. After several seconds, her neck began to complain and she was about to work out the kinks when she caught a very faint, very diffuse wash of light. To her dismay, the light seemed brighter on the right than the left, something she confirmed a second or two later when a shadow flitted, fracturing the light. So, not coming straight down. But she might be wrong about that, too. There could be rocks or shelves projecting into the shaft she just couldn’t see. If true, though, shouldn’t water be spilling off those? The flow wasn’t breaking up much and—she drew in a deep breath, parsing the various scents blended together on her tongue—yes, there was the cold nip of aluminum, the sharp sting of pine and…she felt a jolt of surprise. What?
“Do you see anything?”
She snapped back. “Yes.” Clicking on her headlamp, she told An what she’d seen, though not what she’d smelled. She wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t all wishful thinking on her part. “And I just spotted a bat,” she said, only realizing her mistake when the words were already gone and it was too late to call them back.
“A bat?” As if expecting one to do a strafing run, An scanned the ceiling with a look of mingled horror and revulsion. “They carry rabies.”
Probably a good thing she hadn’t mentioned all the guano her super-sensitive nose had sussed out. “Probably not. Bats always return to roost for the day, and it’s a lot warmer in here than out there.” She was actually surprised to have seen one flying around at all; bats also hibernated. Could something have bothered it? She couldn’t think what and then decided the bat was likely just a straggler. What time was it, anyway? Checking her watch which she always kept set to military time, she was stunned. Nearly eleven hundred. Only five hours, six max, since they’d entered Dead Man? It felt like a century. How long since they’d left Paulsen?
“Two hours, twenty minutes.” Jack paused. “Give or take.”
“I can’t climb that.” Kate looked down to find An’s eyes brimming. “I can’t. It’s too high. I’ll slip. I’m not strong like you and…and…” The girl hitched against a sob. “Dax can’t climb that, either.” Hearing his name and at An’s distress, the shepherd tried lapping the girl’s tears. “We can’t leave him.”
My God. She’d been so focused on their getting out, she hadn’t considered either problem. If she could figure out a way to strap An to her back like an IPC, she could make it. Maybe thread An’s legs through her parka’s sleeves, zip up her parka to form a makeshift sling, and then duct tape the parka with An in it around her middle? That might work, and she’d carried heavier packs. On the other hand, who knew how narrow the way out might be? The passage might not close down much, but she knew there had to be at least one bend. How would she negotiate that with An on her back? And all this was to say nothing of the dog. Dax was probably used to a harness. That was how Tompkins fast-roped with Six from choppers, but she no more had a harness which could handle a dog than she did one for a girl. Even if she’d had either, she doubted she could take both.
“Listen.” She crouched down before the girl. “This is our best shot. There might be something more up ahead, but we’re here now and I don’t know how much further we’d have to go to find another exit.” If this even was one. “I don’t want to leave either of you behind, any more than I wanted to leave Paulsen.”
“He’s going to die,” An said, “isn’t he?”
“No one’s going to die.” A stupid thing to say because there was no guarantee. She remembered a conversation about futures way back in Walter Reed with her shrink, that pissant Dowell, when she demanded to know if she would ever be better, be past Afghanistan, be rid of all the ghosts. He’d only shrugged. Psychiatrists are notoriously bad at predicting things, especially the future. Jerk. “We’re a long way from dying here.”
From An’s look the girl wasn’t convinced. “You could be gone a really long time.” She didn’t say Kate might not make it out at all, but she didn’t need to.
“But a person can live for a long time on only water.”
It was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it as soon as An’s mouth turned in a bitter grimace. She held out an arm no bigger around than a twig. “You don’t have to tell me. And what about Dax?”
“I’ll leave you two all the energy bars. You can feed him those. But you stay right here, okay? Don’t move. Don’t wander off looking for another way.”
“That’s not fair.” An’s jaw set. “You might never come back.”
She opened her mouth to argue then clamped it shut. How could she rebut the truth? But she had to go. She sensed this truly was their one and only shot. There was an opening; the way up was the way out and she had to get there.
Just as she knew, she had to do one more thing.
“One more thing?” Jack stirred. “What do you mean, Kate?”
The tracker, Jack.
Jack was silent for a beat and then two. “What are you saying?”
That An’s life was too high a price. So was Paulsen’s. She reached a hand to Dax. The dog’s life, too.
Don’t block the other biobots, Jack. She put a touch of steel in it this time. He’d once been her commander, but now those roles had reversed. She needed to remember that. He’d already defied his…well, what was it, programming?...to help her. Now, he had to listen and act in a way that might not be in his best interests—or hers. I mean it.
“But then they’ll find you. They’ll take you back.”
That’s th
e point. If they find me, they find An and Dax. Even Paulsen and perhaps the others.
“They find you, Kate, they find me. I…I might not be able to hide.”
He meant that his personality—his construct—was that strong. How would Jack manifest to someone like Hacker? As anomalous code? A new algorithm? If Hacker hooked her up right now, would Jack show up on an EEG, something separate and distinct? Alien?
“I’m scared, Kate. I don’t know what’s in the dark.”
I know. Her eyes sprang suddenly hot and she snuck up a hand to wipe away tears. I’m scared, too. But the needs of the many, Jack.
“I don’t know that reference.”
Yes, you do. Access… She stopped herself. Think of my dad. And his seemingly bottomless collection of science fiction. They must’ve watched that movie a hundred times, though he always called it The Wrath of Ricardo Montalbán. And, my God, did that Ricardo have some pecs. Probably no more real than William Shatner’s hair. She liked the movie a lot, actually. Even developed an appreciation for Dante: Better to rule in hell. Her dad often said everything he learned in life, he learned from Star Trek.
“You mean, the no-win scenario?” Jack asked.
That’s the one. This was her very own little Kobayashi Maru, and her second go-round to boot, wasn’t it? As in Afghanistan where, in those final seconds, there had been no way to win, here there was only the choice of whether to do or do not. If you love me, Jack…
“You know I do. Love is what…what makes me possible.”
And love was what might destroy them both.
“I have to go. Here.” Unstrapping her watch, she fastened it around An’s bony wrist. “This is on military time. Do you know about that?” At An’s nod, she said, “Good. Now, it’s almost eleven in the morning. I can’t tell you what to do. I’m not your mom.”
“My mom’s dead. So’s my dad and my uncle.” An’s face was expressionless. “My aunt didn’t like me and she sold me. No one’s told me what to do for a long time.”
And it might be nice if someone did? She wondered if having someone who did give a damn mattered to An. “Okay, but listen to me anyway. If I’m not…” She’d been about to say back then thought if Vance got his claws in her, she wasn’t going anywhere. “If someone doesn’t show up by noon tomorrow, not today but tomorrow, then…okay, you can keep looking. Another thing. I’m going to leave you my headlamp, too, which means you’ll have two.”
“How will you see? It’s dark.”
“I’ll be fine. Thing is, no matter how bad it is in the dark, no matter what you hear or think you hear or whatever, don’t leave them switched on. You’ll only drain the batteries and if you decide you have to leave, you’re going to need the light. But I really, really want you to wait until the last possible second, okay? And if you do go?” She dug out her depleted roll of duct tape. “Put tape on the wall so someone can find you.” She almost suggested that if An came to a fork, she should take it and then thought, Oh, don’t be a nut. “Do we have a deal?”
An took a moment to turn this all over then nodded. “Deal.” Then, “But I won’t have to go anywhere. You’ll come back, Mac.”
“Kate,” she said. “Call me Kate.”
And if you are Jack, you have to do this, she thought as she moved into the alcove and set a boot and found grips for her hands. Don’t fight anymore. Let them turn on the tracker and let me go.
She’d made it about twenty feet up when the tracker blipped on—and stayed that way.
Yes. He was Jack.
Chapter 15
Afghanistan
Tompkins had been right. In contrast to the entrance, the exit was enormous, wide enough for a truck and then some. In the ghostly green and gray hues of her NVGs, the way seemed to Kate almost like something from one of her dad’s science fiction movies—a gateway to another world and one at war, to boot. The weapons fire they’d detected back in the complex was much louder, the roars reverberating up the western slope to spill onto the summit. To be this loud—for her to feel the shudder through her boots—whoever was shooting was closer, too. She wished she knew if that was good or bad. From where they crouched, the high walls hemming a road of packed earth made a visual assessment impossible. Now deep indigo bleeding into black, the sky pulsed with sporadic bursts of light only an instant before the deep whump of a mortar explosion reached them.
“Signal keeps dropping.” Jack crouched only a few feet from the exit, the better to duck back inside if anyone started shooting. So far, though, this area was quiet. “Cell and radio.”
A few feet ahead of Jack, Lowry, whose head seemed to be on continuous swivel as he covered Jack, said, “Well, shit, sir. We being jammed?”
“Maybe. If you’re good enough to coordinate an ambush, you’re good enough to predict the stupid Americans will call for help.”
“You must have gotten through.” Gholam, on her left, playing with his own phone. Screen glare washed his skin Grinch-green and made his black eyes a stark greenish-white, like a wolf caught in headlights. A splotch of similarly hard light from the phone’s flashlight sprayed the rock at his feet. Unlike them, Gholam and Amir had no night vision and it was only with reluctance that Jack agreed to let the policeman light his own way. On the other hand, Jack had to be relieved to put some distance between them. No love lost there. “I heard a voice,” Gholam said. “Not clearly but I know you got through for a few seconds. They will send help, yes?”
“Assuming they were able to nail down a location, that’s the theory. Between that and our PLBs, they ought to find us. Except…” More clicking of knobs and punching of buttons, and then Jack gave an exasperated sigh. “I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I’d heard something other than static that only sounded like a voice. We got to move out, get to higher ground and away from all this rock. That means we all move. If we’re lucky, there won’t be time to come back here.”
“Why not?”
“Helicopters travel at about two-hundred-twenty miles an hour. Cham Bacha’s a buck fifty from Kessel.”
Gholam’s brow furrowed. “Buck fifty. One-hundred-fifty kilometers or miles?”
“Miles.”
She could practically hear the gears turn in Gholam’s head as he calculated. “Then, you are not correct. Unless they have rockets attached. It will take them at least an hour.”
“Mmmm.” Jack was poking buttons. “Sometimes helicopters are faster than you think.”
Oh, Jack, that’s what you did. He’d already called for help or had Stanton relay a message. Which might mean Stanton had not been with the convoy. That might have no bearing on Stone and the others, but Jack was trying to mobilize and protect his people as much as possible. Maybe that’s why there’s so much weapons fire. Was there an eye in the sky now, a drone keeping tabs, too? God, she hoped so.
“Kate, I want you to retrieve Tompkins and Pederson, bring them forward. Lowry and I are going to move out to that plateau, see if I can establish better communications.”
“I will go with her,” Gholam said. “I want more pictures. I have not taken any of the exit or the tunnels leading to it.”
“Be quick.” Seating the radio on his back, Jack said, “Kate, make sure Tompkins has Six squared away and ready for an evac.”
Muzzled and in a harness was what he meant. “You bet. Meet you out there.”
She trotted back the way they’d come, Gholam not far behind, that camera emitting its insectile clickety-snick, the flash popping every few seconds. The guy was going to give someone an epileptic fit, if he kept that up. At least, it won’t be for much longer. She was certain now Jack had done an end run, anticipating problems. Soon, they’d all be off this rock.
They’d left Tompkins, Pederson, Amir, and Six fifty yards back, at the mouth of a smaller tunnel Tompkins said Jawad thought might have been a shortcut goatherds once used. Tompkins was having more trouble breathing, and Pederson argued he’d be working with night vision there or outside, so what the hell was t
he difference. The man needed help, and he was going to work on Tompkins right there, so sue me. Jack hadn’t argued but volunteered Amir because Pederson would need hands, and Jack trusted Kate more than he trusted the police. Not that he’d said as much, but Kate could tell from the way Amir’s eyes sharpened that he knew just what Jack thought of both him and Gholam. That provoked a twinge for the sympathy. After all, Amir had taken a bullet and a person couldn’t choose his relatives.
When this is over, maybe he’ll move up in the ranks. She aimed a look back at Gholam, who was taking his sweet time, and slowed before it occurred to her that since Gholam had a flashlight, she didn’t need to lead him around as if he were a blind man. Instead, she picked up her pace. Maybe a changeover will be good all the way around, especially for Bibi. Amir was younger, and he seemed decent. Maybe not cut from the same chauvinist’s cloth, either.
As she hung a right, there was a sudden scuffle of boots on rock, a chatter of buckles against plastic, and then those telltale snicks. “Whoa, easy.” Realizing her mistake, she skittered to a halt and held up both hands. “Only me.”
“Jesus.” Tompkins had propped his rifle on his knees. When he recognized Kate, his shoulders slumped, though Six, who sat at attention behind his handler, flashed a wide grin. “How about.” Sucking breath. “Some warning?”
“Stop talking,” Pederson ordered. “Time to move?”
“Uh-huh. Captain and Lowry are already heading for the plateau.” As Gholam slithered past, working that camera app, she gave Six a pat. “Got to get this big boy ready for a ride. Ah, no.” She gave Tompkins a firm push to keep him down. Skin tone was tough to parse through NV, but she thought that, save for those inky splotches on his collar and vest, a porcelain doll had more color. Coughing up more blood. “You just lie there for a few more seconds.” Space was a tough tight here. Instead of shifting her rifle to her back, she unclipped it and propped it against a wall. “I can handle this. Where’s his muzzle?”
