Part 53 (1/2)

She frowned at him. 'They're not taking us with them.'

'Of course they are,' Spurrier said. But she had shattered his hope. 'Just wait.'

'They'll be back,' Ali said. 'And we don't want to be here.'

Troy had the knife, and went over to Chelsea and Pia and Spurrier.

'Get away from me,' Spurrier said.

Pia grabbed Ali's hands and pulled her close. She stared at Ali, eyes wild. Her breath smelled like something buried. Beside her, Spurrier said, 'We shouldn't make them mad, Pia.'

'Stay, then,' Ali said.

'What about her?' Troy was kneeling by the captive girl. Her eyes were on his, unwavering, watchful.

The girl might bolt for the entrance or start screaming or even turn on her liberators. On the other hand, leaving her was a death sentence. 'Bring her,' said Ali. 'Leave the tape on her mouth, though. And keep her hands tied. And the wire around her neck, too.'

Troy had the knife blade under her rope, ready to cut. He hesitated. The girl's eyes flickered to Ali. Tinged with jaundice, her eyes were catlike. 'You keep her tied, Troy. That's all I'll say.'

Spurrier refused to escape. 'Fools,' he hissed.

Pia started out the door, then turned back. 'I can't,' she said to Ali.

'You can't stay here,' said Ali.

'How can I leave him?'

Ali grasped Pia's arm to pull her, then let go.

'I'm sorry,'. Pia said. 'Be careful.' Ali kissed her forehead.

The fugitives stole from the room into the interior fortress. They had no lights, but the walls' luminescence fostered their progress.

'I know a place,' Ali told them. They followed her without question. She found the stairs Ike had shown her.

Chelsea was limping badly from whatever the mercenaries had done. Ali helped her, and Troy helped the girl. At the top of the stairs, Ali led them through Ike's secret entrance into the lighthouse room.

It was dark in the room, except for one tiny flame. Someone had pried open the floor vault and emptied it. And left a single clay lamp burning. Ali lowered herself into the vault, and helped Chelsea descend. Troy lowered the captive girl. Ali was surprised at how light she was.

'Ike's been here,' she said.

'It feels like a tomb,' said Chelsea. She had started s.h.i.+vering. 'I don't want to be here.'

'It was a storage vault with jars,' Ali said. 'They were filled with oil. Ike's taken them somewhere.'

'Where is he now?'

'Stay here,' she said. 'I'll find him.'

'I'll go with you,' said Troy, but reluctantly. He didn't want to leave the girl. He had developed some kind of obsession with her during the past few days. Ali looked at Chelsea: she was in terrible shape. Troy would have to stay with them. Ali tried to think the way Ike would.

'Wait in here,' she said. 'Keep low. Don't make any sounds. We'll come back for you when it's safe.'

The tiny flame lit their drawn faces. Ali wanted to remain here with them, safe with the light. But Ike was out there, and he might need her.

'Take the knife,' Troy said.

'I wouldn't know what to do with it,' Ali said.

She cherished Troy's and Chelsea's looks of hope. 'See you soon,' she said.

Their rafts rocked on the seiche. You couldn't feel or hear the tremors, but deeper designs were stirring the sea with swells. The food and gear were lashed with muleskinner knots. They had the chain gun mounted, the spotlights on. It was going to be heavy going for eleven men, but their cornucopia promised months of sustenance and would lighten as they exited.

Half of the soldiers waited on the rafts while half went back to tidy up. They had drawn straws for the wet work. It was disgusting to them that Shoat asked to watch.

You didn't leave witnesses alive, not even the walking dead. Long before they died of starvation, any one of the survivors might pen some d.a.m.ning deposition. Things like that could haunt you. It might be ten years before any colonist found this fortress, but why risk the testimony of ghosts? That was what had confounded them about the colonel. He'd treated this as a calling, when all along it was just a crime.

They worked from front to back and kept it professional. Each of their wounded comrades got a well-placed mercy shot behind the eyes. Walker they left alive, strung to the wall, babbling scripture. f.u.c.k him. In a million years, he wasn't going anywhere.

All that remained were the civilians in the side room. Two entered. 'What's this bull?' one shouted.

Spurrier looked up, s.h.i.+elding Pia. 'They ran away. We could have gone with them,' he said. 'But look, we stayed.'

'Dumb f.u.c.k,' the other soldier said.

They rolled two fragmentation grenades into the room and hugged the outer wall, then hosed what was left with a clip each. They returned to the front room. It was quiet, now that the wounded had finished pleading. Only Walker still moaned.

'That sucked,' said one of the mercenaries.

'You ain't seen nothing yet,' Shoat said. He was just finis.h.i.+ng inserting another of his homing capsules into the wall.

'What are you talking about?'

'Visualize whirled peas,' Shoat said.

'Hey, Shoat,' called another. 'Why keep stringing those homers? We ain't ever coming back this way.'

'He who plants a tree, plants posterity,' Shoat p.r.o.nounced.

'Shut up, mope.'

They watched from just below the water. Others occupied the heights, camouflaged with powdered rock, stone-still. Their composure was reptilian. Or insect. A matter of clans. Isaac had arranged them just so.

Had the mercenaries thought to illuminate the cliffside, they might have detected a faint pulse, the ripple of many lungs respirating. Their lights on the water simply ricocheted off the oscillating surface. The humans thought they were alone.

The party of executioners appeared at the fortress gate, in no hurry. They walked with heavy legs, like peasants at the end of the day. Until you've done it, you have no idea: Killing is a form of gravity.

'Vengeance will be mine,' Walker's mad voice bellowed from the fortress.

'Have a nice day,' someone muttered.