Logos Run (25 page)

At that point, a formation of Kufu’s wings descended to take up positions around the balloon. Thanks to the efforts of genetic engineers long dead, the wings had long, slender bodies, hollow bones, and muscles that norms didn’t. Their leather wings made a steady
whuf
,
whuf
,
whuf
sound as they drew abreast of the basket. The concept of harnessing the variants to the balloon and towing the aircraft into close proximity with the largest of the pyramids had been Rebo’s idea. Now, with distances already starting to close, the runner was in communication with the formation’s leader via a small handheld “talk-box” that Hasa had loaned to him.

As the norm gave orders, and Norr looked on, four of the strongest wings flew into stiff leather hoops that were attached to the dangling ground ropes. The variants took up the slack, beat their wings even harder, and sought to pull the balloon onto a new course. It would have been impossible had there been any sort of headwind, but the air was relatively calm, and it wasn’t long before the aircraft veered to the southeast.

Meanwhile, having been attracted by all of the unusual activity, flocks of competing wings were vectoring in from all directions, bent on stopping whatever King Kufu and his minions were up to. But only four of the red-liveried variants were occupied pulling the balloon, which left the rest of Kufu’s air force to block the attackers, which they hurried to do.

Mindful of the need to drop her passengers on the largest of the pyramids, the pilot allowed the balloon to begin a gradual descent, even as she took occasional potshots at enemy variants. Most of her projectiles went wide, but by means of either skill or luck, one of them hit home. Norr happened to be looking in that direction when the blue-clad wing appeared to pause in midair, spiraled toward the ground, and was soon lost from sight.

“Get ready!” Rebo shouted urgently, as the huge pyramid loomed ahead, the pilot triggered the burner, and the wings prepared to drop their harnesses. There was no good way to exit the basket on such a steep incline, but that’s what the plan called for, as the balloon made violent contact with the pyramid’s westernmost flank. The leading edge of the basket hit, the container tipped forward, and Hasa spilled out onto the ridged slope.

“Jump!” the pilot ordered, as she grabbed onto a support and struggled to keep her footing. “Jump now!”

Norr went first, tripped, and fell face downward onto the stone facing below. She skidded, rolled sideways, and struggled to right herself. Finally, after arresting what threatened to be a fatal skid, the sensitive came to a halt.

Rebo followed, managed to avoid landing right on top of Norr, and wound up sprawled across three six-inch-high steps. The burner roared as the pilot struggled to get her aircraft airborne again, the balloon soared, and soon floated away. A ground crew, all mounted on swift angens, galloped below. Chasing the unpredictable aircraft and retrieving them was a full-time job.

It took the better part of a minute for Rebo, Norr, and Hasa to regain their feet and check for damage. Fortunately, none of them had suffered any injuries beyond scrapes, abrasions, and minor cuts. Then, just as Rebo was about to lead the others to the point where Lysander said they could gain entry, six red-clad wings fluttered down out of the sky to land a few yards away. One had been slightly wounded during an airborne scuffle with Quar’s orange-liveried flock, and all of them were armed. They took up positions behind Hasa, and Rebo was quick to object. “What are
they
doing here? This wasn’t part of the deal. . . . What’s going on?”

Hasa was a small man who had one eyebrow and a mustache to match. When his lips retracted, the resulting expression was more of a grimace than a smile. “
What?
” the minder inquired sarcastically. “You thought the great Kufu would be so foolish as to send only
one
man? Whom you could murder with impunity? Never! File Leader Lartha and his men are here to ensure that you keep your part of the bargain. Besides, the interior of the tomb is sure to be guarded, and you may be glad of the extra firepower.”

Rebo looked at Norr and saw the sensitive shrug. “We’re after the dead emperor’s ring,” she whispered. “Nothing else matters.”

The runner wasn’t so sure, but had very little choice since Kufu’s men outnumbered the two of them more than three to one. “Okay, but do as you’re told, or we will call the whole thing off.”

Hasa shrugged, as if to say, “Who cares?” and fell in behind Norr as Rebo led the party toward the far side of the pyramid.

Thanks to the fact that large sections of the pyramid’s outer covering had been destroyed by cannon fire and the passage of time, it was possible to walk along the crumbling ledgelike steps that would have otherwise been covered. A task that turned out to be more difficult than it appeared since the monument was in motion, there were areas of unbroken material to traverse, and the occasional
ping
could be heard as winged snipers fired on the party from beyond the protective envelope that Kufu’s air force had established.

Finally, after circling halfway around the construct, Rebo arrived at the spot where Hios’s name had been carved into the pyramid’s surface in letters twenty feet tall. Much of the
o
and the
s
had been blown away. But the
i
was intact. Confident that the others would follow, the runner climbed up to the point where he could access the dot over the
i
and used a knife to pry and scrape at the surface material. It took some elbow grease, but it wasn’t long before a palm-sized chunk of the ceramic material broke loose, and made a
clattering
noise as it tumbled down a succession of steps.

Rebo felt his heart leap as he looked at the huge ruby. He applied pressure to the gemstone, felt it give, and held his breath. What if the ancient mechanism was stuck? Or broken? But the ancients had built well, servos whined, and more of the ceramic material shattered as the entire dot irised open. There was a sudden outgassing of stale air, followed by expressions of amazement from Lartha and his warriors. “Nice work,” Norr said approvingly.

“Thanks,” Rebo replied, as he turned toward the group gathered behind him. “Who would like to enter first? How ’bout you, Hasa? The king would be impressed.”

“You honor me,” the minder replied gravely. “But guests must go first . . . Such is our custom on Haafa.”

That wasn’t necessarily the case, not judging from the smirks the soldiers wore, but Rebo wasn’t surprised. The runner said, “Watch my back,” to Norr, and slipped into the coolness within. The sensitive went next, closely followed by Hasa and the squad of winged variants. Then, having been triggered by a sensor, the hatch irised closed. A trio of blue-clad wings landed on the spot a scant two minutes later, placed an explosive charge over the door, and took off again. The result was a loud
boom
, a cloud of dust, and a brand-new scar. But, seemingly oblivious to additional damage that had been done to it, the pyramid sailed on.

NINE

There was total darkness within the floating tomb as the
sound of the external explosion faded away—followed by a shower of dust that caused most of the group to sneeze or cough. Then, as Rebo, Norr, and Hasa began to operate their squeeze-powered glow lights, three beams of fluctuating light came into existence. The vaguely pistol-shaped devices had been copied from a unit “harvested” from Kahoun and made a distinctive
click-whir
noise as the power-producing handle was clenched, then released. Even though the dynamo-powered light kept Rebo from fisting both of his handguns at the same time, the runner was happy to have the device because a lantern would have been even more cumbersome.

The wings were less fortunate, however, since no one had seen fit to supply
them
with glow lights, causing File Leader Lartha and his subordinates to bunch up behind Hasa rather than be left back in the darkness. “Okay,” Rebo said fatalistically, as he directed a beam of light down a slight incline. “We might as well get this over with. . . . I’ll go first, Lonni will follow behind me, and you guys can bring up the rear.”

“No!”
the minder replied vehemently. “
I
will go first— and the wings will follow me.
You
will bring up the rear.”

Rebo was surprised, but pleasantly so, and happy to let Hasa lead the way. But, having sampled the other man’s personality, he knew better than to say so. “Well, okay,” the runner allowed reluctantly. “But it doesn’t seem fair.”

“I have very little interest in your opinions,” Hasa replied arrogantly, as his glow light washed over a beautifully executed mural. “Come, Lartha. . . . Let’s see where this passageway leads.”

Norr caught a glimpse of Rebo’s expression in the side wash from her squeeze light, knew that her companion was on the verge of laughter, and poked him as Kufu’s functionaries proceeded down the tunnel.

Everything went smoothly at first. So smoothly that the runner was about to conclude that his earlier fears had been groundless, when he heard a clacking sound, and File Leader Lartha vanished. Hasa’s glow light bobbed erratically, and pandemonium ensued as the remaining wings looked for their leader. But it wasn’t until Norr made her way forward that the mystery was solved. “Look!” the sensitive said as she directed her beam downward. “Do you see those cracks? He fell through a trapdoor.”

The revelation did nothing to comfort Hasa. A sheen of sweat covered the minder’s forehead, and his eyes were huge as he looked from left to right. “Where is Lartha now? Do you think he’s alive?”

“No,” Rebo replied reasonably. “I don’t. . . . But we can’t stay here. Watch for cracks, and you’ll be okay.”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Hasa objected heatedly. “I know what you’re up to. . . . You’re hoping that I’ll be the next one to die! Well, I’m too smart for that.
You
go first . . . And the spook goes second. The wings and I will bring up the rear.”

“Okay, have it your way,” the runner agreed grimly. “But take a look over your shoulder from time to time. We wouldn’t want anything to sneak up on us from behind.”

It was clear from the way that the minder’s eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets that the possibility of being attacked from the rear hadn’t occurred to him until that point. Hasa was still trying to figure out if he’d been wrong to give up the lead position when the other two brushed past him.

“Keep your light on the floor,” Rebo instructed, “and I’ll use mine to look ahead. Between us, we should be able to see what’s coming up.”

Norr nodded in agreement, directed her glow light down, and made an attempt to engage her psychic senses as well. But it soon became apparent that there was nothing to detect beyond the auras strung out behind her, a finding that would have been more comforting had it not been for the fact that machines don’t generate any spiritual energy and would therefore be “invisible” to her. The thought sent a shiver down the variant’s spine and caused her to focus on the physical plane.

The need to watch for trapdoors slowed their progress, but paid off when Norr spotted a second set of telltale cracks, and the rest of the party was able to jump over the potentially fatal trap. The passageway turned to the right shortly thereafter and emptied into a small antechamber. A large, heavily embossed metal door waited ahead, but rather than rush forward and attempt to open it, Rebo decided to pause. It wasn’t long before the rest of the group caught up, and Hasa began to champ at the bit. “What are you waiting for?” the minder demanded impatiently. “Cross the chamber and open the door!”

“Be my guest,” the runner said, as he stepped aside and motioned for Hasa to proceed.

It was a trap. The minder could see that now. But he couldn’t back down without losing face. Hasa stepped into the dome-shaped chamber, pistol at the ready. The response was instantaneous. A simply dressed man appeared out of thin air and raised a bejeweled hand. “I am Emperor Hios,” the apparition intoned. “This is
my
tomb . . . And, should you be so stupid as to pass through that door, it will become
yours
as well.”

Having become entangled with the semitransparent specter, Hasa gave a yelp of fear and stumbled backward. Rebo made a grab for the missing amulet and clutched the religious medal instead. Norr felt a sudden and completely unanticipated sense of sorrow as she looked at the holographic likeness of the man who had once been her father. A man that only
she
, as the emperor’s daughter, could kill.
Had
killed, and given birth to, each time Lysander occupied her body. “Stay!” Norr commanded. “Lead us to your body that we might reclaim your
true
legacy.”

But the computer buried deep within the floating pyramid didn’t understand the reference and hadn’t been programmed for such interactions. The image shimmered, collapsed in on itself, and exploded into a thousand motes of light.

“It wasn’t real!” Hasa announced triumphantly, his relief plain to see. “Come on, men, let’s tackle that door!”

A stylized star gate could be seen as the minder’s glow light splashed the surface of the barrier. Having heard the specter’s warning, the wings were understandably reluctant to approach the barrier at first but were eventually convinced to do so, only to discover that it was locked.

“Well, that’s that,” Rebo said cheerfully. “It looks like we’ll have to backtrack. Let’s keep an eye peeled for trapdoors however. . . . It would be a shame to lose anyone else.”

“Not so fast,” Hasa said, as he fumbled something out of a belt pouch. “King Kufu foresaw such a possibility—and that’s why he gave me
this
!”

“This” proved to be what looked like a metal wand but was actually a powerful cutting torch. The minder thumbed a button located at one end of the device and was rewarded with a loud
pop
and a six-inch-long bar of blue energy. A second
pop
was heard when the tool was extinguished.