Authors: Gordon Mackay
Belinda felt uncomfortable waiting while he crept ahead, so slowly made her way after him, although keeping a safe distance. When he called her forward, he was taken by surprise at how quickly she appeared. On her arrival she noticed the tunnel had split into two where he stood, with one leading off into a downward direction and the other continuing on the same level. Without the luxury of a map or signposts indicating the way to go or what lay ahead, it was back to the good old guessing game. He shook his head in annoyance regarding not knowing which way to go. The growing indecision of which tunnel to take was quickly dismissed as the sound of approaching footsteps could be heard from the same level tunnel. The steps heard were many and their volume was ascending rapidly, suggesting they were getting close.
Listening carefully
, with his head slightly inclined towards the direction of sound, he whispered, “It sounds like a flaming army is headed this way. The guessing's over for the moment because we have no choice but to take the downwards tunnel. C’mon, let’s get the hell-out of here… and pretty bloody quickly too!”
With renewed energy and a will to survive, they set off at an even faster pace with adrenalin pumping hard around their bodies.
The tunnel swept downhill, gently at first, then more abruptly as they progressed. It seemed to go deeper and deeper with each and every racing footstep. What had sounded like an army behind them had faded, making Scott sigh with relief. They were on their own again, for the moment anyway, but it was necessary to keep going if they were to remain free. The sensation of dampness in the air became more and more apparent, especially when the walls began to reflect the dim light with a wet sheen. There was also a drop in temperature with the sharp descent, quite the opposite to what Scott had expected. To go deeper towards the planet’s core and away from the freezing surface he would easily have bet a month’s wages on the temperature rising. However, there was a possibility there might be a source of water nearby, which could also account for the thermal reduction, he reconsidered. Along with the dampness on the walls there appeared a smell, faint at first then altogether quite potent. Just as he was about to mention their environmental changes, Belinda communicated to Scott there were several subterranean lakes beneath the surface of Mars and perhaps they were close to one.
“Lakes!” exclaimed Scott, unable to contain himself. “That’s right! I read the information on your ship’s monitors while we were travelling here. Are you telling me that one of these hidden lakes might actually be here?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Well at least we might get a drink if nothing else,” he said while hoping the lake’s presence might assist their escape
too.
With the short rest during the conversation, the sound of their heavy breathing had eased. It left a lonely kind of silence in the tunnel, except for the shuffling of their feet in shallow mud. The previous sound of following footsteps was gone. Left behind or evaded? Scott was unsure. What he did know was they had bought some time by their fleeing actions, but where the hell were they head
ed? The stupid question rattled around inside his head like a loose screw echoing inside an empty barrel.
“We’ve got no choice but to push-on, Belinda. We can’t afford to stop! I don’t know how long it’ll take the Grey numpties to realise they’ve missed the sodding party, before figuring we’ve turned down here.”
Before another word was uttered, a slightly kicking Phyllis began to regain consciousness, suggesting in slow quiet words, “I think I could walk by myself if you would care to put me down.”
“Wow! Phyllis! It’s great to hear your voice again. You had me worried, girl! How are you feeling? I’ll just put you down and see if you can stand
on your own two feet.”
With a slight sway in her gait, she walked forwards a few steps before Scott needed to support her
again. She looked at her hands in complete and utter dismay, feeling like crying for the first time in her life. The black and burned hands with their missing fingers and thumb shocked her, just as they would anyone. A few tears rolled down her cheeks as she placed her hands behind her, not wanting to see them anymore. How was she to pilot a ship, she wondered? What was her future to be from now on? Both companions closed ranks to give her a comforting and reassuring hug.
“I can handle the pain,” she informed them, “but not the sphere. My hands are … in a bit of a mess.”
“Mmm-hmm, I’m afraid they are. However, I’m sure there’s a way to make them better,” he said, trying to reassure her.
With wet glistening eyes, she looked to Scott as she replied, “My fingers are missing,
they cannot be repaired
.” She emphasised the importance of the missing digits.
“I’m sorry, Phyllis. I didn’t mean to condescend you or anything like that. It’s just that I have a feeling we’ll find a way to help you; just don’t ask me how or what I mean. It’s a feeling I have, that’s all, and if it proves to be the case, all the better.”
Phyllis knew he meant well and wished he could be right. However, her hands looked hopeless. She returned the smile, still concentrating on containing the pain that was affecting her badly.
“As for the sphere,” he said. “I can use it if required. I was shown by an expert, remember?”
A smile appeared across her face. “Yes, I remember,” she said quietly. “And I can still advise you too.”
“Of course you can, and you always will. I would be lost without you
and you should know that.”
“And I would be lost without you too,” added Belinda.
Scott told her about the tunnel they were in, with the sound of footsteps previously heard behind them. He went on to mention the possibility of a lake, especially with the evidence of damp air, wet tunnel walls and muddy floor.
She nodded her u
nderstanding while insisting they must keep going, regardless.
“Belinda?” Scott asked. “Can you take point with Phyllis behind you while I protect our rear? If you hear or see anything, you must stop and tell me straight away. And, Phyllis, should you feel faint, tired, or whatever, you must also let me know.”
They both nodded, turning to face down the tunnel that lay ahead. With a quick step in their stride they were on the run again, fleeing for their lives.
Grey eyes surveyed the wrecked doors.
Among the inspected door shards and shrapnel was evidence of body parts, although minor pieces so their importance was ignored. They calculated the amount of energy that was necessary to achieve such devastation, wondering what kind of device could cause such damage. Amongst the various races that inhabit space, it was commonly known the colony-humans lacked weapons of this nature and it was doubtful if the earthling had any such technology at his disposal. To the mind that looked at the scene of devastation it was a mystery, but it was certain who was responsible.
The accountable individuals needed to be caught and disposed of as quickly as possible
, the commander thought. The base is obviously at risk!
The tunnel’s floor had turned into a
deeper muddy track, looking like the colour of blood in the available light. Both women kept up a steady pace with Phyllis careful not to allow anything to touch her hands. She could barely contain the agony as it was; her mental resilience to pain was already stretched to its limits so anything extra would break her will and spirit, she knew.
Scott observed them from behind, maintaining a short distance for safety. His mind was tired and his body ached badly, he needed to rest at the earliest opportunity. He knew his companions would be feeling the same as he did, but never allowed it to show. The two blue suits ran ahead, with the female forms of the occupants on clear display. He found the sight of their shapely hips and peachy bottoms mesmerising as they kept just ahead of him. A smile crossed his face, although he was unaware
of it. The image of their female forms made him momentarily forget their dire situation. He recalled Frell and Patricia, remembering they also had attractive forms. He wondered if all the females in the off-world colony were just as nice.
The intensifying thoughts of extraterrestrial beauties came to an abrupt end as he collided with the women. He had allowed himself to drop his guard with his concentration focussing on the two shapely figures in front of him. The memory of their shapely derrières faded rapidly as his reawakened senses made him alert again.
“Jesus Christ ladies!” he exclaimed with surprise. The collision had knocked Belinda and Phyllis off-balance for a few steps, almost knocking them off their feet. Phyllis had instinctively put her hands out in front to protect herself, but fortunately hadn’t made contact with anything.
He whispered. “What’s the problem? Have you seen something?”
“We heard a noise from ahead of us. It sounds like… splashing water.”
Both had their heads cocked to one side to aid their hearing. Scott squeezed past them, being extra careful not to touch Phyllis. With slow and silent footsteps he mo
tioned ahead, indicating with the palms of his hands he wanted them to stay exactly where they were.
The air was dank, heavy and cooler as he
carefully stepped further along the tunnel. When he’d tread a fair distance, he turned to usher both women to follow.
The walls glistened like wet glass and the floor was a smooth carpet of undisturbed mud. If anyone was following they wouldn’t need to be a brain surgeon to figure-out how many there were of them and which direction they were going. Their footprints were clearly defined and obvious to any who might chance upon them.
They progressed forward slowly, listening intently while hardly daring to blink. A change in the tunnel’s environment was heralded by the sound of waves, lapping on some unseen shoreline. The change itself was quite sudden, with the air temperature and dampness altering in the space of a single footstep. He remembered what he’d read about the underground lakes, wondering if they had chanced upon one after all. He beckoned the ladies quickly forward.
They left the tunnel’s confined space; thankful they had moved into a more spacious area. The stood motionless while listening and scrutinising the scene around them with suspicious eyes. It
was
a lake, a huge one; a monumental mass of water trapped below ground for many millennia. A beach of fine-grained sand lay at their feet with intermittent waves washing along its smooth edge. The horizon was lost in the distance as a fog of dampness and darkness conspired to conceal it. The overhead rock structures released a certain amount of light from decaying radioactive isotopes, giving the scene a cool incandescent pale-blue glow. What they looked at was a beach that appeared cold and eerie. The sight sent a shiver up Scott’s spine. Rubbing his hands together as if to warm himself, he stepped lightly to the water’s edge looking for evidence of seashells or any other kind of life. He found none, feeling disappointed at the absence.
“Look!” shouted Belinda, pointing along the beach at a squat object some distance away. At first glance it had appeared small and almost insignificant, but as the trio moved closer its true size and importance began to take shape. Recognising it as a berthed submersible, tucked neatly
into a small inlet, Phyllis described it as a Grey vessel commonly used to explore seas and oceans. She also stated she knew how to operate it, to enormous relief of her companions.
She added with confidence. “It has a standard operating system, very similar to our own ship’s controls.”
Scott felt like hugging her, but declined knowing it might add to her pain. He instead said, “That’s brilliant. You’re one hell of a woman, Phyllis.”
Smiling, she replied, “That’s better than being a girl, I suppose.”
A shuffling of feet from behind reminded him there was another in their group so added with haste, “And so are you, Belinda. You are both absolutely beautiful and intelligent women and I’m more than honoured to be in your company.”
The women looked at each other, smiling, before each sent Scott a mental message of complimentary proportions. It would have been better if it had been a verbal message, like the previous, because the Grey commander overheard the telepathic message. He was already hot-on-their-heels and this confirmed his quarry was not far away.
The three stopped short of touching the submersible’s structure, which was black in colour, just like a Grey spacecraft.
Scott said, “You can have any colour you want as long as it’s black!” He remembered the famous quotation from Henry Ford. Belinda and Phyllis overheard but didn’t comment. They had become used to Scott’s little anecdotes.
The craft’s upper superstructure showed above the waterline, with much of its bulk hidden below. Scott couldn’t make out its underwater design, but supposed it wouldn’t be too different from the submarines on Earth. They stood still, briefly, almost as if they expected some little Grey crewmember to stick its heart-shaped head up and surprise them. Scott was in no mood for surprises and would surely have ripped the surprised head from its torso before the echo of its scream had returned from the overhead rocks, dropkicking it like a football as far as it would go.
The sound of invasive chatter and pounding footsteps from behind broke the silence and their individual thoughts.
“The bastards have found us!” he exclaimed. “We’ve got to get aboard… RIGHT NOW!”