Eighth Fire (18 page)

As he felt around for the lantern that was
clipped to his climbing harness he felt the rat dig its claws into
his scalp to retain its purchase. He brought the lantern up and
wiped some of the muck from the glass. It was still working and he
could see the duffel bag just off to his left. The rat jumped to
it.

He felt for the mike and it was still there. He
adjusted it and said, “I just fell into some kind of muck. I think
it’s where that smell is coming from.”

No answer.

“Hello!” He tapped the earpiece. “Hello! Is this
thing working?”

Still no answer.

This is probably why they lost contact with
Mr. Giancoli. I made it to the surface so he probably did too. I
float, if you can call it that, so he might have been able to make
it this far. If he did, how’d he get out?

Mark wiped more of the muck from the lantern and
started looking around. He was able to maneuver himself to
different areas by using the staff. The ledge he fell from looked
about fifteen feet up and the ledge on the other side was a little
higher. There was no way he could reach either with the staff.
About the only thing he could think to do was use some of the
pitons he brought to form makeshift footholds in order to climb
out.

He went to what looked to be the best spot and
looked up the wall. There were pitons already there, except it was
obvious from the small broken holes in the wall that the first two
pitons had given way. He hammered in replacements and climbed out
with the lantern and duffel bag, complete with rat, clipped to the
back of his harness. The rat leapt to the ledge and scurried off
when they reached the top.

Mark leaned back over the duffel bag, took the
headset off and examined it. It looked unbroken when he got most of
the muck off. “Hello. Hello. Can you hear me?”

“I hear you.” The voice didn’t come from the
headset. It came from the top of the first pit area on the other
side of the muck and sounded like Mr. Day yelling. The tunnel must
have been carrying his voice.

Mark shouted back, “Mr. Day, is that you?”

“Yes. Are you uninjured?”

“A few scratches, that’s all. And I’m covered
with muck.”

“Is it guano?”

“I don’t know what guano is, but this stuff sure
stinks.”

“Bat droppings. I smell it and if it got in an
open wound, you’d better disinfect it pretty quick. What’s your
situation?”

Mark pulled the disinfectant out of the rescue
kit and a bottle of water from the bag. “I’m on the other side of
another pit that is filled with guano. The radio isn’t working. I
know Mr. Giancoli made it this far. I used his pitons to climb
out.”

“I think I can stand being in here long enough
to get you my headset. The closer I am to you, there is less fear.
Can you estimate how far you slid when you fell?”

“I guess I slid about a thousand feet before the
ledge.”

A moment passed before Mr. Day said, “I’ve got
extra rope coming. It’s going to take a while before we can get to
you. The fear came back when you left and it takes a strong will to
follow you in here. The fear started to subside little by little as
I got closer to you. Can you estimate how far it is from ledge to
ledge across the guano pit?”

“I can’t see the other side, but I know it’s
more than a hundred yards.”

“That sounds like we can set up a rope bridge.
That’ll also make it easier for you to get back out.”

“That’d be great. I don’t really want to have to
go through that stuff again.” He reached into Aaron’s Grasp and
took out his communicator ring. “If Chenoa is still here, can you
ask her to put on her ring?”

“Her ring?”

“Yes sir. She’ll know what you mean.”

“Hold on.” A few minutes later Mr. Day said,
“I’m heading out now. Someone is coming in to reset the repeaters
to the ring’s frequencies. That might take a couple of hours.”

“I understand.”

It only took about an hour before he heard
Chenoa’s voice. “Testing, testing. Is it working?”

Another voice said, “Loud and clear. Mark can
you hear us?”

“I hear you loud and clear.”

“Great. You need to reset the frequencies on the
rest of the repeaters.”

Mark was given instructions on how to do that
and a half hour later said, “Okay. They’re all reset.”

“All right, we’ll check on you every ten
minutes, same as before.”

The only way off the ledge was to climb up about
six feet and then in between two horizontal, parallel rock faces
about a foot and a half apart. It was slow going since the layers
weren’t separated enough to allow him to do anything except belly
crawl. The area between the two slabs was so vast it was impossible
to tell which way to go.

After hours of crawling, the area just ahead
narrowed enough that he couldn’t get through by going straight, but
which way should he turn? Both ways looked the same. He stopped and
listened. Off to the right he thought he heard the barely audible
sound of a water drop splashing into a pool. And there was a faint
odor of something he had hoped he would never smell again; rotting
flesh.

Just as he was about to start crawling to the
right he felt the rock under him rumble. He spoke into the ring,
“Um… was that an earthquake?”

“Sure was. Just a three point eight though,
nothing to worry about. Little tremors like that happen all the
time.”

“I’m glad
you’re
not worried.”

As he crawled the odor became stronger and the
occasional drip of water grew louder. A few minutes later he could
see what he hoped he wouldn’t.

“I think I’ve found Mr. Giancoli’s body.”

“Be careful.”

The body was lying on a rock slab separate from
the continuous formation Mark had been crawling on and it was just
barely submerged in a pool of rust colored water. The upper stone
was lying across his back and head. Mark kept his distance while
examining the scene for any clues as to what might have
happened.

Mark spoke into the ring, “The only thing I can
think that may have happened is that the stone slab fell on
him.”

“Try pushing the duffel bag across with the
staff and see what happens. See if you can spot what triggered
it.”

Mark pushed the bag and nothing happened. “The
bag is across and I didn’t see anything.”

“Is there any way for you to go around?”

“Maybe, if I get in the water. It looks like it
might go around.” He used the staff to probe the water. “It looks
like it’s only about four feet deep.” He eased into the water.
“It’s cold!” He started easing his way around the slab and his
teeth started chattering. Just before he was at a good point to
climb out, his staff warned him of a sudden drop-off. He avoided
it.

Once he was out he chattered, “I’m-m-m-m
o-o-out.”

“You might try a meal pack heater to warm
up.”

The heaters were water activated. After he was
warmed up a little he looked around and saw he could stand. “I can
see how this thing works now. It looks like a tandem seesaw, one
over the other. When someone climbs onto the lower one it shifts,
forcing the upper one to come down on the person.” He looked closer
at the top seesaw. “I think it resets itself after a depression on
the other end on the top one fills up with dripping water.”

Mark dumped the contents of the plastic meal
pack and used the container to fill the other end of the slab with
water. After several trips the device reset itself and the water
ran out of a channel on the end of the top slab. “I was right. It
resets itself after the cavity fills with water.”

It took some time for Mark to roll the body into
the water pool while being careful not to activate the trap
again.

The front of Mr. Giancoli’s shirt and pants
waistline had small holes. Mark carefully felt the surface of the
bottom slab and found several small holes. “It looks like Mr.
Giancoli was stabbed by several spikes concealed in the holes of
the bottom slab. He wasn’t wearing his armor so he got stabbed and
bled to death.”

“I understand. Continue on and we can worry
about recovering the body later.”

The only way Mark could go was along a narrow
passage. It wasn’t long before the passage opened into a large
room. He looked the room over with his binoculars and decided not
to enter just yet.

“I’ve just come to a room. It looks like the
walls are alive with insects.”

“What kind of insects?”

“I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re
about the size of a blow fly and they look like tiny scorpions
without tails.”

“Pseudo-scorpions. That might not be so bad;
almost all of them are harmless to humans. What color are
they.”

“They’re a pinkish gray.”

“Okay. Rarely, vary rarely; some of the pink
varieties swarm when they’re extremely hungry or when it’s their
mating season. Normally they just eat other bugs, but you need to
prepare to act if they do swarm on you when they discover you’re
there. The bee suit and the armor won’t do much good unless you
tape up all the seams and that’s very hard to do by yourself. Only
a handful of them need to get through in order to immobilize you.
Can you get a close look at one?”

Mark eased closer so he could see some on the
closer wall and looked at them through the binoculars again. “I
can’t quite get them into focus, but it looks like they have red
and black stripes on their backs and I’m not sensing hunger from
them or anything else in particular.”

“Um… I’m not familiar with markings like that.
Hold on while I have someone check the database.”

Mark pulled out the bee suit and put it on. He
used duct tape to seal the junctions of the different parts. The
neck seam was the hardest to seal so he used extra tape to help
ensure he had done an adequate job.

The radio voice said, “It’s like I thought, this
is a new species and we don’t have any idea on what to expect. The
good news is that you get to name it.”

Without hesitation Mark said, “Giancoli. Name
them Giancoli.”

“Giancoli it is. All right, there has to be a
food source in order for them to survive down there so that means
there has to be another entrance from the outside into that room.
Most likely it’s located near or in the ceiling. Let me know when
you get your bee suit on and taped up.”

“I’ve already got it on and taped.”

“Good job. Toss a smoke canister from your
rescue kit into the room and watch what happens. I’ve got scouts
dispatched to look for the smoke and locate the chimney. If we can
locate it we can send down enough food to keep the bugs busy enough
to leave you alone. If they start coming out after you, most likely
they won’t, but if they do then get back to the water.”

Mark tossed in the canister and watched the bugs
start scurrying all over the place. “The smoke is filling the room.
I don’t see where it can get out.”

“Can you see anything like a breeze stirring the
smoke?”

Mark scanned the room. “The only place the smoke
looks disturbed at all is at the exit on the other side of the room
and it isn’t much.”

“Does it look like any of the bugs are coming
after you?”

“No. There are a few by the opening here, but
they’re not paying any attention to me and I’m only sensing a mild
irritation from them.”

“That’s good. Try easing into the room a little,
but be prepared to run back to the water if you have to.”

Mark eased into the room taking care not to step
on any of the few scattered about the floor. The ones near where he
stepped darted away. “They’re not interested in me at all.”

“Ummm… that’s not good. According to the
prophecy the next death is supposed to be insects.”

Remembering his experience in the labyrinth last
year he asked, “What eats these bugs?”

“Pseudo-scorpions are arachnids and arachnids
are typically eaten by birds and wasps; mostly by wasps.”

Mark shook his head and scowled. “I’m glad I’ve
got the bee suit on.”

“I can almost rule wasps out. We calculate that
you’re about a half-mile underground and no wasp colony has ever
been found that far down. A foot or two down is common and then
only in holes that already exist. They need heat in order to
fly.”

“Now that you mention it, it is a little warmer
down here than I expected.” Mark took the thermometer out of the
rescue kit. “It’s seventy-eight degrees down here.”

“That must mean there’s a thermal vent down
there somewhere. The temperature should be about fifty
degrees.”

Mark continued to examine the room for the bug’s
food source.

He saw something zing out of the opening ahead,
briefly land on the wall and then zing back into the opening. A few
seconds later it happened again.

He pulled out his binoculars and waited for it
to happen again. “Well, it’s not wasps. It’s hornets, very large
hornets.”