Part 18 (2/2)
”It's a distress flare. It came from one of the redoubts we were in a long time back. It's not as big as the usual outdoor distress flares, and what the h.e.l.l use it is if you're stuck somewhere I don't know, but that's not why it's going to be useful right now, is it?”
A slow smile spread over the Amazon's face. ”I guess it isn't,” she said, suppressing the urge to laugh. ”So which way do we send it?”
Mildred considered that for a second. ”Send it to the right. It'll either draw fire from the left or take them by surprise and make them give themselves away. Or maybe show that there's no one there and that they're making us sweat even more than we could have thought.”
”Don't even suggest that,” the Amazon murmured. ”So, will you or shall I?” And she gestured at the flare.
”Let me,” Mildred said. With which she left the Amazon behind the concrete pillar and edged forward to the point where the junction began. Pulling the pin on the flare, she tossed it to the right, a deft flick of the wrist taking the flare on a spinning course that described a wide arc in the air. A laser blast, aimed at the object, missed and hit a point where a concrete support met the ceiling of the corridor, flaking the white paint and blackening the surface.
”Well, well, what do you know?” Mildred murmured, looking back to the rest of the party, who had all moved forward. ”Now we know where they are. All we've got to do is get them.”
”But how?” asked the plaited Amazon, more as a question to herself than to the others.
Mildred was about to make a suggestion when she was distracted by handblaster fire from beyond the ambush party. ”What the h.e.l.l is going on now?” she asked no one in particular, baffled.
WHAT WAS GOING ON was simply the arrival of Dean and his party of Amazons into the fray.
Having made their way through into the service ducts with ease, it was then difficult to find a service grille through which they could get out and into the redoubt itself. Dean figured that they were extraordinarily lucky to get as far as they had so quickly, and with little in the way of obstacles. That luck came to an end. The service duct was tight and dark, and seemed to stretch on into infinity, a twisting, winding maze that showed no light ahead from a grille leading out into the redoubt.
Dean led his party onward, his muscles aching and cramped from the constriction of the service duct. He fought against the growing sense of claustrophobia, and hoped that the Amazons to the rear of him weren't suffering from the same problem.
”Hot pipe, how come there isn't an exit anywhere in sight?” he muttered to himself as he came to a point where two ducts crossed. Stopping, he looked ahead and to each side. There, to the left, was a filtered ray of light. It looked to be a good five minutes away, and there was no way of knowing where it would bring them out, but it was all they had.
Taking a deep, decisive breath, Dean headed off toward the light, knowing that the rest of the party would be following to the rear. It was a trip that seemed all the slower and more tortuous because there was now an end in sight, but eventually they made it to the grille.
”Oh, great. This is just what we need,” Dean murmured as he looked through the grille. About twenty yards to the left of the opening was a group of sec men ensconced behind a barrier of metal-and-plastic strips that had obviously been constructed for such a defensive purpose. Their attention was focused ahead of them, so they hadn't heard or seen what was going on behind the grille. In the light coming through from the outside, Dean could see that the grille would be easy to dislodge. But would they all be able to clear it before the sec force had a chance to turn and attack?
Dean's question was answered for him when the flare lit up the corridor outside and drew some fire from the soldiers. In the intense light, Dean cast a quick glance back at the Amazons behind him. Their faces, hungry for battle, told him all he needed to know.
While the enemy's attention was distracted, Dean twisted his body and kicked at the grille. It gave way and clattered onto the concrete floor. Before it even hit, Dean tumbled out, followed by the Amazons.
Their reactions were sharper than those of the Illuminated Ones. They began firing before some of the enemy even began to move.
It was then that Dean saw Mildred, over the top of the barrier, come charging around a blind corner at the head of a party of Amazons.
DOC'S WAR WAS as he had expected. Hard, and a war of attrition rather than swift movement. Once out of the elevator, the party he was attached to dug into the corridor beyond, and were as firmly entrenched as their enemies. Blasts of laser fire and stray shots were exchanged, but a stalemate had been reached.
Doc was secreted behind a pillar on the opposite side of the corridor to Margia, and he looked across at her.
”My dear lady, I fear this will continue in stalemate unless someone finds a way to break the deadlock. I regret to say that I am bereft of both ideas and weaponry for this, but perhaps you are carrying something. A gren, mayhap, would scatter the enemy to the winds, and make them easier to deal with.”
Doc's attention was focused on the bag of ammo, flares and grens that the blond armorer carried on her back, strapped to her shoulders. However, he realized from the sly grin that spread across her face that her mind had traveled along another track.
Margia unshouldered the laser blaster she had been cradling so lovingly since they entered the elevator some time before.
”Well, honey, if you think this is the right time,” she said in a teasing tone of voice to Doc.
He shook his head urgently. ”No, that was not what I meant at all. I do not think -”
But he was cut off from any further comment as Margia swung herself out into the middle of the corridor, leveling the laser blaster and firing a beam into the heart of the opposing forces. She swept the laser rifle in an arc that covered the width of the corridor, the beam tracing from one side to the other, spreading a line of heat death.
She caught three of the defending party by surprise, searing into limbs and torsos, causing them to fall writhing to the floor in agony.
The confusion caused by the sudden appearance of one of their own weapons among the opposition caused the sec force to cease firing. Those who hadn't been chilled or injured scattered, heading for the nearest junction and a chance to regroup and plan.
Watching them run, Margia cackled wildly before turning to her party. ”Come on, sweeties, this is going to be p.i.s.s easy,” she yelled before whooping triumphantly.
”I wish I could share such sentiments,” Doc muttered to himself worriedly.
THE MAIN QUORUM watched on monitors as their forces were ravaged by the attacking Gate war parties.
The main vid rooms on the highest level of the redoubt had long since been rendered useless, and were now past the area captured by the Gate. But on each level there were rooms where the ruling elite of the Illuminated Ones-whoever may be in that office at the given time-could observe an overall picture of the redoubt from a series of smaller screens that were in constant action. Many of these, representing the higher levels of the redoubt, were now blank, the casualties of war.
Simon Rack still stood with Jorgensen, acting as trained observer to point out anything the sec chief might miss. It pained him that the only things he could point out were disasters for the sec chiefs troops.
”What are we going to do, Al?” Rack asked, not wanting to point out another setback as the party led by Gloria and Ryan advanced farther into the redoubt.
Jorgensen shrugged. ”What we should have done all along-immediate evac. I doubt if they could follow us through the mat-trans, especially if we use the fail-safe program. Should have done it straightaway,” he added softly, a note of sadness in his voice. Turning to the quorum, he said, ”That's my suggestion. Immediate evac. There's no way we can beat them now. All we can hope to do is hold them back until evac is complete. I'm sorry.”
”Don't be, Al,” said one of the quorum. ”You did your best. That's all we can ask. h.e.l.l, we've all been secluded here too long. At least we can learn that from this debacle. Well, you're in charge in a situation like this, Al, so I guess it's up to you to give the order.”
Jorgensen nodded sadly and left the room. To think that it had come to this made him want to give up now. But at least he could insure that the contents of the redoubt, and those people his so-called leaders.h.i.+p hadn't chilled, could evac to another location.
Down in the main comp room, he relayed his orders and keyed in the code that would alert the receiving mat-trans. When the last figure had been entered, he heaved a sigh of relief. No turning back now.
The evacuation began.
Procedures were centered around the area that was the object of the attack-the gateway of which the ancient tribal doc.u.ments spoke. This lay at the lowest level of the redoubt and consisted of three large mat-trans chambers, large enough to accommodate two six-wheel wags full of people and objects.
The idea of the evacuation was to clear the redoubt of anything that might provide some information to the opposition, and also to preserve the treasures that were part of the reason for the Illuminated Ones' existence. To this end, the first wags to go through the mat-trans and be transported to their new location were full of old books, videos, recordings and floppy disks of information and culture from before the final war. This material had educated those born into the Illuminated Ones' society, and reminded them of their reason for existence. It was the raw material from which they would build the new world when they emerged from beneath the ground.
Also in the wags was as much of the tech as could be dismantled and packed away quickly. This included weaponry and everyday objects and electronics. The quorum had always felt it important to keep as much of their tech as possible out of outside hands. Whoever gained it might not be able to understand it, but even the slightest glimmering of understanding could be dangerous to the great plan. That which couldn't be dismantled was to be smashed.
It was a race against time for Jorgensen, and one that he was aware he was losing. Even more so when Simon Rack joined him on the mat-trans level.
”Al, I hate to tell you this, but they're only two levels away.”
”s.h.i.+t!” Jorgensen's jaw was set in a grim line. ”We may just about do it. f.u.c.k. I hope we get the chance to cross them again, when we've learned what we can from this. I feel like our whole lives have been f.u.c.ked over by them.”
”Maybe, Al, but we can worry about that later. Unless we can defend this area, we won't even have lives to be f.u.c.ked over.”
Al nodded. ”Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, Simon. I shouldn't be so self-pitying. Let's nail these f.u.c.kers to a tree while we get ourselves straightened out.”
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