Andromeda’s Choice (30 page)

Unfortunately, everything she was looking at was going to be destroyed by a huge tunneling machine in a few days. That made her feel sad. In fact, the whole enterprise bothered her. Because now, having spent some time on Algeron, she could see what the brass were up to. Connect north with south, encourage ancient enemies to duke it out, and dominate whichever side won. And she was a party to it.

Hasbro said, “Watch your head,” and she ducked just in time. But the Legion was her country. And that, right or wrong, was what she would fight for in the short run. Longer term, well, there was the empress to think about. A mistake had been made and would have to be corrected.

The light from McKee's helmet panned over a large calcite formation as Sykes climbed a steep slope. It consisted of knobby lumps that looked something like popcorn. Just part of the fantastic scenery all around her. But the novelty of the underground passageway began to wear off after a while. And the journey took on a monotonous quality as the trail dipped, turned, rose, and split over and over again.

There were a few memorable moments, however, like when the construction droid stepped onto what looked like a shadow but was actually a hole. No screams issued from the bottom of the pit. Just a monotonous distress call that would continue until the machine's power gave out. Because valuable or not, they couldn't spare the time required to recover the machine.

Finally, after more than an hour of travel, the party arrived in the cavern Hasbro had spoken of. As Royce triggered a remote, the lights came on and splashed the walls all around. And that was when McKee saw the murals left by the ancient Naa. Minimalistic pictures of dooths, hoppers, and other creatures. The fire pits used to light the place were still there and, judging from the look of them, had been used rather recently. Something to keep in mind.

“We'll make camp,” Hasbro announced. “And push on at 1400 hours.”

It didn't work out that way, however. It was 1536 by the time Royce, two of her droids, and Hasbro left the cavern. McKee, Sykes, Kyle, and Shinn were right behind them. The logic being that there wasn't enough room to use more than two cyborgs at a time—and the others could take advantage of the opportunity to rest. A necessity since they would have to stand guard later on.

The first half mile had already been explored. But everything after that was new territory. And it wasn't long before McKee began to appreciate the role the droids played. Both were equipped with impact hammers that they employed to make narrow spots wider—and to take the samples that would be sent back to the main column. Without them, forward progress would have been extremely slow.

They walked up slopes, down steep inclines, and around obstacles for the better part of two hours before Hasbro called a halt. Then, to mark the spot, they spray-painted the time and date onto a wall. With that accomplished, they turned around and made the trip back—pausing every now and then to collect the samples taken earlier. The droids carried them in packs—but McKee had what she thought was a better idea. Something they could try the following day. In any case, it took another two hours to reach the cavern. Proof positive that there was a need to establish camps along the way.

With half her squad on duty in the tunnel, McKee was able to eat an MRE, take a sponge bath behind a shelter half, and enjoy six hours of uninterrupted sleep. Then it was time to get up, have breakfast, and listen to Larkin's report. It seemed that the “night” had been largely uneventful. But at 0222 the legionnaires had heard faint noises. “I don't know what they were doing,” Larkin finished, “but I'm sure some fur balls were up tunnel.”

It wasn't much to go on, and to be expected in a way, but McKee wasn't about to ignore that sort of enemy activity. So she went to Hasbro, told him what she wanted to do, and got a grudging agreement. “I'm afraid your plan will slow us down,” the engineer said. “But we'll give it a try.”

So as the party left the cavern, a RAV took the lead. The plan was to use the robot's mine-detecting abilities
and
load its empty cargo compartment with rock samples. And the precaution paid off. The RAV hadn't gone more than two hundred feet when it detected a carefully hidden mine under a narrow spot in the path. Had a human or a cyborg stepped on the device, it could and probably would have killed them.

Hasbro and McKee watched as the robot disarmed the mine. “You were right,” the officer said soberly. “We'll have to be very careful from now on.”

“Yes, sir,” McKee agreed. “But the problem is even bigger than that. The Naa could blow the tunnel. Come to think of it, why haven't they done so?”

“I think they will attempt to close it off once they come to the conclusion that they can't stop us. That wouldn't stop Colonel Bodry, of course. He can drill through the blockage.”

McKee thought about that. “So we just keep going? Knowing they could blow us up anytime they choose to?”

Hasbro looked her in the eye and shrugged. “Simple answer, yes.”

“I want a transfer.”

Hasbro laughed. “Too late, Sergeant. I've got you where I want you.”

So they pushed deeper into the mountain. Now the tunnel felt oppressive to McKee. Like a long throat that led into the belly of a beast. And she felt especially vulnerable whenever the passageway widened out into a gallery of stalagmites, flowstone deposits, and helictites, which looked like tangles of white worms. All of which could serve as cover for a group of Naa warriors. But if she was worried, Hasbro wasn't, or didn't seem to be, which made her feel like a coward.

They were just about to quit for the day and turn back when the group entered another cavern. It wasn't as large as the first nor as convenient since there weren't very many flat spots, but it would enable them to move the base camp forward. So Hasbro spray-painted the time and date on a wall—and ordered the team to turn around. McKee had dismounted by then and was standing a few feet away.

“We're going to stay, sir,” McKee said. “We have a couple of emergency MREs, and there's a pool of water over here, so we'll be fine. And, if it's all the same to you, we'll keep the RAV.”

McKee was forced to squint as Hasbro's light came around to splash her face. He was silent for a moment, then he nodded. “I get it. You regard everything we've been through as cleared. So by staying here, you can keep it that way.”

“Sir, yes, sir. But I have something more in mind as well. If the Naa come this way, which I believe they will, I plan to teach them a lesson.”

“You never cease to amaze me,” Hasbro said. “Okay, we'll be back in about ten hours. And we'll bring all of the gear and supplies forward.”

“Roger that, sir. Bring some breakfast, too.”

Hasbro grinned. “Absolutely . . . You can have one of my favorites. A breakfast burrito.”

McKee made choking sounds, and Hasbro laughed. The engineers and their robots left a few seconds later. McKee turned to find Kyle looking at her and realized her mistake. She'd been so busy thinking about strategy, she had forgotten who was with her. Ideally, she would have chosen Larkin and his cyborg for the overnighter. The decision to bring the newbies had been based on the need to train them up. Now, having committed herself to an overnight stay, she would have to work with what she had.

“Okay,” McKee said. “We're going to eat our MREs and split up into two teams. Shinn with me and Kyle with Sykes. The plan is simple. We'll turn off the lights and wait to see if the enemy shows up. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” Sykes replied. “Where does the RAV fit in?”

“Before we turn the lights off, we'll head up tunnel and hide the RAV. I will take control of it, which will allow me to fire on the Naa from the rear—or open up on them if they try to retreat. If we can kill or capture all of them, that will have a psychological impact on their command structure. Any other questions? No? All right. The RAV will act as a sentry while we take a break.”

An hour later, they were done eating and had selected positions from which they would be able to fight if the Naa entered the cavern. With that accomplished, they pushed farther up the tunnel until they found a spot where they could hide the RAV behind some large stalagmites. Then, having delegated control of the robot's machine gun to herself and checked to make sure that she could “see” what it saw via her helmet's HUD, McKee led the others back to the cavern.

Once the legionnaires were settled, McKee gave some final orders. “Remember, no unnecessary conversation. And if you speak, use the squad push. Shinn and I will take the first two-hour watch, then Kyle and Sykes will take over. Okay, lights out.”

The cavern was plunged into darkness as the lights went out in quick succession. The cyborgs could “see” heat. But without any ambient light to intensify, the night-vision technology built into McKee's helmet didn't work. And the complete darkness bothered her more than she'd thought it would.

But she could tap into the RAV's systems—and that included the machine's infrared sensors. The problem was that with the exception of some green dots, the screen was empty. Were the dots tiny cave-dwelling life-forms? Or the equivalent of static? There was no way to tell. All she could do was wait.

 • • • 

Sykes had permission to sleep but wasn't sleepy. So, with nothing else to do, he went back to work trying to hack what he thought of as McKee's “cat” drive. How much time had he spent on that so far? Hundreds of hours probably. With no end in sight.

That was frustrating, and Sykes had given up for a while. And why not? He'd been busy, and Travers was dead. But, after the battle at Doothdown, Sykes had returned to FOB Oscar to find that an electronic message was waiting for him. The seemingly innocuous communication consisted of eight words. “Please visit Carly Vickers at Fort Camerone. Max.”

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Vickers had been sent to replace Travers. Unfortunately, Sykes couldn't travel to Fort Camerone. Not at the moment. But that would change. And when it did, he would have to deliver something. Proof that McKee was what she seemed to be or proof that she wasn't, and had been neutralized. Anything less could be fatal. For him.

Sykes heaved the equivalent of a sigh. His onboard computer was already running possible combinations. He would go to work as well. Then, if all else failed, he would kill McKee and make up some sort of story. Better safe than sorry.

 • • • 

Having completed her watch, McKee was fast asleep when they came. And would have remained that way had it not been for the link with the RAV. It delivered a buzzing sound that caused her to wake with a jerk. That was followed by a moment of disorientation. Where was she? Why was it so dark? Then, as a column of spindly heat blobs began to parade across her HUD, it came back to her. She wasn't on Orlo II with John Avery. She was on Algeron deep inside a mountain called Skybreaker.

“This is Eight,” she said. “Get ready . . . We have company. It looks like five, six, seven hostiles. They just passed the RAV. Once they are in the chamber, I will order lights on—and Sykes will call on the Naa to surrender. If they do, that would be ideal. If not, kill them. Over.” McKee received a series of double clicks by way of a reply.

Like all T-1s, Sykes's computer could speak Naa even if he couldn't. So it would say the necessary words over the cyborg's external speakers, and the rest would be up to the enemy.

Each second seemed like a minute. Had the warriors stopped to pee? Were they turning back? If so, McKee would have to open fire on them with the RAV and lead the squad up tunnel to attack the Naa from behind.

All such thoughts disappeared as a flickering light appeared and threw a long, spindly shadow out onto the floor of the cave. “This is Eight. Let 'em come,” McKee said softly. “Let's get the whole group into the cavern if we can. Over.”

McKee got her wish. A tall Naa carrying a torch in one hand and an elaborately decorated staff in the other entered the room. A mystic! Such individuals could sense the presences of enemies, or so the Naa claimed. But that was a load of bullshit since . . .

Suddenly, there was a noise akin to a crack of thunder and so loud that loose pieces of rock fell from the ceiling. One of them clattered off McKee's helmet and another thumped her back. Then the mystic shouted something, the warriors began to fire, and all hell broke loose.

The Naa hadn't identified targets and were firing wildly in hopes of hitting whatever the hidden threat was. And, because only three of them were armed with semiauto rifles, the volume of fire they put out was relatively low. Bullets chipped divots out of the walls, a stalactite crashed to the floor, and some of the slugs bounced off harder pieces of rock to buzz like bees as they flew back and forth.

But when the T-1s opened up with their fifties, and the bio bods fired their assault weapons, the warriors were seriously outgunned. So the Naa were forced to retreat. Sykes gave chase, closely followed by Kyle and Shinn.

McKee eyed the feed from the hidden RAV, waited for the first heat signature to appear, and fired a long burst. The blobs fell in quick succession.

With no targets to shoot at, McKee left cover and made her way over to the tunnel. She had to step over a body to enter the passageway. A trail of bloody corpses led to the dead mystic. Kyle had the Naa's staff and was turning it over in his hands. There was a look of pleasure on his face. “That was awesome!”

McKee felt a sudden surge of anger. “This isn't awesome. It's sad. We slaughtered the poor bastards. They never had a chance. Go through their belongings and take anything that might have intelligence value. Then dig some graves. I'm going up tunnel for a look-see.” And with that, she left.

Kyle watched her go. “What was that about?”

“McKee doesn't like to kill people,” Sykes answered. “Even furry people. And she's right. What took place here doesn't qualify as a battle. Now, unless you want the Steel Bitch to kick your ass, I suggest you get to work.”