03. Gods at the Well of Souls (17 page)

The Agonese, mostly in black armored outfits with helmets and clear faceplates,  nodded gravely. 

Kurdon turned to the visitors. "There is no sense in risking the girl at this  point. One of you should remain back here with her, and there will be a guard  here in case there are any nasty surprises." 

"I'll stay," Gus told him. 

"No, not if you're willing to come at all," the inspector responded. "I need  that cloaking of yours. The design is such that once we reach the main corridor  of each level, we have to use it. Once the obvious resistance is taken out, you  would be very useful in scouting ahead and spotting ambushes. Your background  says you've been under fire before, which makes you even more valuable, since  most of my men really haven't. That true?" 

"Yeah, I guess so. If you really need me, I guess so." Though if I'm gonna stick  my neck out a mile, I wish to hell I had a camera and a network to send it to. "Julian, you can ignore a lot, but you have a personal objective in there, and  if any of your old memories and reflexes remain at all, you've had real military  training and experience. Am I wrong?" 

"No," she admitted. "You're right. This is a little out of my line, though. I  was an air officer." Julian was startled by the offer. She'd never even  considered that Kurdon would want her anywhere but back in the rear. Now she  found herself nicely trapped by her principles; if he was willing to trust a  woman, she could hardly say no. 

"You know when to duck and can anticipate how these men will move and how  they'll operate, I think, and that's enough. For you it's all volunteer, though.  Go or stay." 

"I'll go," she told him. She didn't really relish this any more than did Gus,  but it was do it or shut up about what she could or couldn't handle. "Good. I can't armor somebody of your type, so you'll be in the rear of the  formation, but I need your eyes, ears, any extra senses you have, and your  experience. I'll outfit you with a small transmitter. Use the troops as a shield  and move forward as they do." He turned to the Leeming. 

"Colonel, as the other military man here, I'd like you up with the main corridor  force as well," Kurdon said. "Remember, though, that you're vulnerable to energy  weapons and there's no way I can armor you, either." 

"We will do as we discussed," Lunderman replied. "I assure you I will be in no  more danger than anyone else." 

"I was in the same air force as the colonel," Tony pointed out. Flying fat asses  like him around with his cronies and equipment to make war on his own people, he  added to himself. "Dillians are also excellent shots." 

"Well, maybe, but Dillians are also exceptionally huge targets," Kurdon  responded. "If you want to come, okay, but you'll be in the rear. I'm not going  to let you down there until things are secure enough that you have a chance to  survive. Otherwise, you'll just be in the way. I may need you for interrogation  or ED, though." 

"Oh, dear! That doesn't leave very much for me, does it?" Anne Marie noted. "All  right, then, I suppose I'm elected to remain back here with this poor child." "You can monitor what's going on from the command post right here," Kurdon told  her. 

Anne Marie looked at Tony. "Must you go? I'm afraid I've gotten terribly used to  you." 

Tony smiled and kissed her. "Don't worry. As the inspector says, I'm going to be  well out of range. But I have to go. You understand that, don't you?" "No, but I accept it. Take care." 

Gus turned to Terry, who clearly hadn't the faintest inkling of what the hell  was going on. "You stay here. They want me and some of the others to go catch  some very bad people and maybe save some very good friends. You can't come  because you can't help and we might get hurt protecting you. Do you understand  that?" 

She frowned, then hesitantly nodded. She didn't like this at all, but if Gus  said to stay, then she couldn't exactly argue. She suddenly realized that some  of her new friends, maybe even Gus, could get hurt, though, and it scared her.  He saw the somewhat sad, somewhat panicked look on her face. 

"Don't worry. You'll be here with Anne Marie, and I won't let them hurt me. You  have to believe that." 

It would have been easier for her to believe it if she saw that Gus believed it,  too. 

"Where's the Dahir?" somebody asked, and Gus responded, "Here." "Oh, that is kind of nerve-racking, isn't it?" one of the Agonese soldiers  commented. "Wish I could do it, though, particularly now. Okay, any way to get  this headpiece on you? It's pretty small and flexible. If you can, you'll be  able to hear what we say and speak to us, even in a low tone. It will also be  monitored here, so if anything goes wrong, a message can be relayed. Think you  can handle it?" 

"It's uncomfortable, but yes. Over the head and then below the snout on my neck.  That will put the output mike right against the translator." 

"Fair enough. You have done this before?" 

"Yeah, but in another life and with a lot more equipment." 

"Okay, people! Let's take a little walk in the woods!" Kurdon called to them  all. "And keep it quiet, huh?" 

Someone tried to hand Julian a rifle, but she refused, holding out a hand. "I'll  make do with these," she told him. I have to. 

It was a cloudy night, which helped conceal their movements but gave Tony some  vision problems. Someone handed her an Agonese helmet, which was extremely loose  on her and pinched her hair something awful in the back but which proved a  little high-tech marvel. It probably would have been even more of one if it had  been connected to the rest of the armor-plated suit, but the faceplate proved to  have pretty good night vision abilities. 

Basically nocturnal, Gus managed to keep position, and Julian needed no special  gear, simply relying on infrared. They walked for what seemed like a great  distance through increasingly thick woods and rolling terrain until at last they  came upon a large unit already in place and surrounding what looked like a giant  pencil the size of a small house on some kind of treads. 

Kurdon went to the device, nodded to the technicians standing by it, and looked  at his watch, then signaled for two of the technicians to move. They got up on  the treads, pressed something, and a small room in the very rear of the thing  was revealed. They got in, sat down, strapped in, threw some switches, and then  the entry closed behind them. There was a dull whining sound from the device  now, and Julian's eyes could see a sudden glow from not just the "point" of the  pencil shape but from the tapered area as well. 

"What is that thing?" she asked a soldier near her. "Construction machine. It's  used for tunnels on the railway, for reshaping rock formations, that kind of  thing. There are only three of them in existence, and somehow he's got all three  here tonight." 

"You mean he's going to bore holes right into their roof? Can we follow? I mean,  it's bound to be molten." 

"It cools pretty quick. You have any feeling in those hooves?" "No, not really." 

"Then if we can go in with these boots, you can, too. Don't worry about it.  We'll see that you make it." 

The comment irritated her, but she stilled her tongue. No use pissing off  somebody who was supposed to give her cover. 

"Market is secure," Kurdon told them, the news coming through everybody's  communicator at once. "Demolition team in place. Air exchange patrols check in  by number." 

They couldn't hear the responses, but apparently Kurdon was satisfied. Nervous and scared, as he should be, Julian thought, but he's having the time of  his macho life. I bet he's dreamed of this moment. 

"Borer to full. Demolition team ready at my count. Ten . . . nine . . . eight .  . . seven ... six ... five . . . four ... three ... two ... one ... Now!" Just to the northeast of them a massive explosion sounded, shaking the very  ground. Liliblod was a nontech hex; Julian had to wonder what the hell they'd  found that would make that big a bang. 

At the same moment the entire tapered part of the borer glowed red and then  suddenly shot a blindingly hot white energy beam so powerful that Julian's eyes  reflexively switched to day vision. It didn't matter. The whole forest was lit  up, and nobody could watch that beam. Not far away, there were similar  illuminations in the no longer dark wood. 

Kurdon's plan was simple given the technology he had to work with. The first  borer, almost on the border itself, would open up the main entrance to forces  that could drop in and secure the hopefully trapped but panicked and confused  denizens inside in one stroke. That done, they would move to secure all the  security controls, taking command of them, then move a force back along the  first level. The colonel would go in with this team. 

The second borer, with Julian, would move in and secure the middle area,  followed by a ground force larger than the other two. These would proceed in  both directions, linking up with the first group on that end and the third  group, with Gus, coming in the back and pressing forward. Once the first level  was secure, they would use internal access if they could to go down; otherwise,  portable borers would come in through the ceilings. The rear part of the second  level was said to hold the cells; the forward part was the labs. Then the  procedure would be repeated on the third and final level, where the computers,  living quarters, and more cells were. That was the main objective and might  possibly be the toughest-or the easiest. Few crooks bottled in so thoroughly  liked to go out shooting; their chances were far better if they were taken  prisoner. Or so it was theorized. The borers cut off, and it was suddenly too  dark once more, except for a dully glowing, perfectly symmetrical tunnel going  down at an angle just where the borer had been pointed. The technicians moved  the borer back on its treads; its job was done. 

A small rectangular vehicle now moved up to the hole and, parked right in front  of it, was opened by two soldiers. Water or something like it gushed out and  down the tunnel, creating a cloud of steam that quickly cleared. "Tunnels safe and coated," Kurdon reported to them. "Prepare to move in. Take it  slow and easy. Don't slip. The angle's a good twenty degrees." That worried Julian, with her hooves, but while the tunnel appeared perfectly  round from a distance, up close it proved quite jagged and irregular inside. The  first group had also strung a rope along each side and secured it, so there was  a handhold to use if need be. She found it tough going but not impossible, and  she was well in before it suddenly occurred to her that at the end of this thing  there was bound to be one heck of a drop and there was no way she was going to  be able to get down on a rope or temporary ladder. 

It was eerie at the end, a dark hole filled with lots of lights-like dozens of  flashlights waving around in a black cave-lots of echoing shouts, and the sound  of both conventional gunfire and energy beams not too far off. She brought herself as close to a sitting position as she could and was relieved  when she saw an Agonese soldier on a ladder reaching up to grab her. They were  remarkably strong for their size, she noted, accepting the offered hand and  feeling not at all good that she had to do so. 

There was the sound of muffled explosions both forward and in back of her.  "Concussion grenades," a sergeant told her. "We're lobbing them in every doorway  and opening we find. They'll knock most anything inside cold but don't do much  damage." 

She switched again to infrared and saw a well-organized operation going on. It  was also some headquarters for a criminal operation. The corridor seemed to be  four or five meters high and carpeted, and the conventional lights from the  soldiers' helmets revealed a place that looked less like a drug hideout and more  like a luxury hotel. 

"Entrance area secure. Lights coming on on level one only," Kurdon's voice came  to them, and soon the whole ceiling flashed on, bathing them all in a soft but  ample indirect light. 

For the second time Julian had an ego-killing thought. My God! What am I doing  here? These people are more professional than I am! If Kurdon had invited her  along to prove a point, he was doing a damned good job. 

She could still hear firing in back of them. 

"We're moving out toward the back end with this squad, ma'am," the sergeant told  her. "You can come, but watch it. As you can hear, this place is a lot bigger  and more complicated than we thought." 

She could only nod. "Shows you what you can do with unlimited money, doesn't it?  Go on, I'll watch your back." At least that's something I can do here, she  thought ruefully. 

It wasn't until they had the lights back on that the officer in charge of the  rear complex team called for Gus. 

'These rooms go into rooms that go into rooms," the officer said in a mixture of  wonder and disgust. "We can't be sure what's still in there. Just go ahead on  your own and scout it. We can tell where you are by the transponder, so you  won't get stunned or shot. Here's a pistol. You look like you can handle one. We  need to find the location of a downward stairway as quickly as possible, so  that's your objective." 

Gus stared at the pistol but felt very uncertain about it. I don't kill people;  I take pictures of people killing people, he thought, with a sense of unreality  about it all. He didn't know if he could kill anybody. 

But he still took the gun. It felt heavy and all wrong in his tiny,  four-fingered hand, but he knew he could hold it and fire it. It was one of  those Buck Rogers ray guns; no problems with recoil or ammo, at least so long as  the battery held out.