Shade's Children (9 page)

“We have to get out,” said Drum. “There’s an Overlord and two maniples crossing the lawns now.”

“Okay,” replied Ella calmly, still stuffing CDs in the pack. “But we’ve got to get these first. Drum—shake out a pack, for the instrument ball. Ninde—see if you can get into one of the Master’s minds, or the Overlord. Gold-Eye, empty that last tray into here. Just pull it out.”

Everyone moved quickly at her orders, incipient panic serving as extra energy. Despite their separate tasks, everyone’s attention was half focused on Ninde. She stood in the middle of the room, chewing her knuckle, trying to ignore the constant mad whispering of Professor Leamington.

“I can’t get the Overlord or a Master,” she said, almost whimpering. “But there’s more Myrmidons on the other side…. We’re surrounded!”

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha,” gurgled Leamington, possibly in answer to her words. The others were silent. Everyone was looking to Ella now, waiting for the word to run, the tension building as she put the last few CDs in the bag and closed the zip with a final whirr.

“What we do?” asked Gold-Eye, unable to bear it any longer. His instinct was to run, run down the stairs, get out of the building…

But Ella didn’t answer. She kept staring down at the zipper of the bag, as if she could somehow see her way out in the linking of the steel teeth. Then she cupped her palms, and the pulse in her neck began to throb, the blood vessels suddenly prominent, blue beneath her skin.

“What…” Ninde began, but Drum motioned her to silence. He knew that look. Ella was trying to imagine something, to bring it to her, or create it. Even Leamington quieted down, till the only noise was the muffled shouts of the Myrmidons and the high rise and fall of Winger shrieks.

Then Gold-Eye felt something twitch in his forehead, as if the soon-to-be-now had just struck him for a second. The feeling was centered on Ella—and he saw that something had appeared in her cupped hands.

A metal egg about the size of a large lemon. Green, with a bright yellow band around it, and a metal handle secured to the round part with a split pin.

“What is it?” asked Gold-Eye simply. How could a metal egg be the way out?

“It’s called a grenade,” said Ella, carefully putting it in one of the pouches on her belt. “It’s a weapon.”

As she spoke, she looked at Drum for just a second, and he nodded. Ninde didn’t see it, but Gold-Eye thought he knew that look. He’d seen it before, between Petar and Jemmie. Weapons weren’t always there to be used on the enemy. The Myrmidons had taken Petar before he could use the knife….

“But let’s hope we can save it for later,” continued Ella. She picked up her backpack and headed away from the door, a confident smile confusing everyone else, who’d instinctively started toward the exit.

“Where—” Ninde began, but she was interrupted again, this time by a tremendous crash that shook the whole building. It was followed by a cheer from the Myrmidons below. Obviously they’d just used something to smash through the ground floor doors. It would be only minutes before they were on the sixth floor.

“Earthquake!” exclaimed Leamington, suddenly coherent again. “Earthquake! We must get out. Somebody help me!”

“Drum, bar the door as best you can, then follow! You two, follow me!” Ella’s commands cut through Leamington’s pleas for help and the Myrmidons’ triumphant bellowing.

Gold-Eye looked at her blankly, but she didn’t wait to see if he was following. She ducked under one of the tables and disappeared behind a curtain of hanging cables.

“Well, go on!” exclaimed Ninde, pushing him forward. “Hurry up!”

It seemed stupid to Gold-Eye to try and hide under a table load of computers, but he obediently got down on his knees and crawled under the table—to see that Ella had opened a panel in the wall behind, revealing a small elevator shaft descending to who knew where.

“Service elevator,” explained Ella hurriedly. “Shade mentioned it as a possible point of entry…or exit. There are no handholds in the shaft, so you’ll have to climb down the cable—quickly.”

“Where?” asked Gold-Eye apprehensively, as he lowered himself into the shaft.

“Underground parking lot,” replied Ella. “I hope. Now, move!”

She pushed him a little in the small of the back, and he shuffled forward a bit farther, till his legs were down the shaft and all he had to do was reach forward and grab the cable. Still he hesitated, and Ella pushed him again.

Overbalancing, he fell forward, hands grabbing the steel cable to take his weight. Only they didn’t. The cable was thick with grease, and instead of climbing down, he started to slide, totally out of control.

Desperately he tightened his grip, wrapped his legs around the cable, and shouted just one word in total panic…before plummeting into darkness.

“Slippery!”

Gold-Eye’s panicked yell coincided with the Myrmidons’ arrival on the sixth floor and a Winger attempt to smash through the windows.

With their first rush, the two leading Myrmidons smashed the door out of its frame, pushing back the makeshift barrier of tables and computer equipment Drum had piled up. He shoved it back against them and, without looking to see what else he could find, wrenched another computer cabinet from the wall and threw it across as well.

This one was still plugged in, and it burst into sparks and flame with an explosion that was marked by the sudden cessation of Professor Marcus Leamington’s voice.

In that same second a Winger flew against the glass, shrieking and battering like a giant moth against a light globe. The glass bowed inward, but it held, at least for a few moments longer.

Under the table, Ella pushed Ninde into the shaft, forcing her to take hold despite her protestations that Gold-Eye had already fallen to his death and she preferred to take her chances elsewhere. Fortunately, Gold-Eye’s manic grip had taken most of the grease with it, so she could descend under reasonable control.

Ella shouted at Drum to follow, then grabbed the cable herself, rapidly catching up with Ninde and forcing her to increase her speed by simply putting her boots on the younger girl’s shoulders whenever she slowed down.

Drum, coughing from the sudden bloom of toxic white smoke from the burning computers, dove under the table, practically sliding into the shaft without even really thinking or looking at it. Unlike the others, he was tall enough to wedge his back against one side and feet against the other.

Using this chimneying technique to keep himself in position, he reached behind his head with one hand and pulled the covering panel across to hide the shaft. Enough to fool a Myrmidon for a while, if not a Master. Then he started down.

Gold-Eye regained consciousness to witchlight, and pain let him know there was trouble in his head and left hand. The others were bending over him, looking very concerned.

“Can you move?” asked Ella.

He looked back at her as if she’d asked a very silly question, then realized he didn’t know the answer. Hesitantly he tried to find out. Pain flared in his head and hand again, but everything seemed to work. He got to his feet, grateful for Drum’s steadying hands.

“Anything feel broken?” Ella wanted to know.

Gold-Eye lifted his right hand to his head and drew it away sticky with blood—but not too much of it. Then he raised his left hand, flexing the fingers—and sharp agony let him know that his forefinger was either broken or very badly bruised.

“Finger,” he said, holding up his hand. Ella looked pleased, which wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. He guessed that she was glad he could move.

Looking around, he saw that they must have carried him out of the service-elevator shaft. Now they were in a very large, dark, damp room, filled with row after row of silent cars. All sorts of cars: big, small, gasoline, diesel, electric. All lined up with nowhere to go.

“One of the University’s main underground parking lots,” Ella said, seeing him look around. Even though she spoke quietly, her voice echoed off the low concrete ceilings.

“What do we do now?” asked Ninde. “They’re still up there…. They’ll start looking here soon…. Ferrets…. What time is it?”

“We need to start looking too,” broke in Ella, a thin smile appearing to mark the progress of an idea. “We need to find an electric car that’s still plugged in for recharge. Drum, you take that line—I’ll do this. Ninde, see if you can splint Gold-Eye’s finger.”

“Okay,” said Ninde, relieved at being given something to do. “I would’ve been a doctor before the Change, you know,” she said to a still dazed Gold-Eye. “Or maybe an advertising executive. See if you can straighten it out a bit, and I’ll tape it to the other finger. Hold still. It can’t be that bad, and it has to be fairly tight to work. I’ve done most of the medical lessons back at the Sub, and I’ve seen plenty of doctors working in the old movies. And nurses. Doctors and nurses….”

Halfway through the operation, Gold-Eye realized that Ninde was talking too much because she was afraid. With his good hand he reached out and clumsily patted her on the shoulder.

“Be okay,” he said. “Ella and Drum fix.”

Ninde was silent for a moment. Then she packed her first-aid kit away quickly and stood up.

“I know,” she said, as if she had never doubted that they would escape. “Anyway, you’re all fixed up now.”

“Thanks,” replied Gold-Eye. He started to get up, but was struck with a sudden wave of dizziness, falling against Ninde so that his cheek lay against her breast.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” she said, pushing him back with no great urgency. “Boys!”

She turned away and started walking toward the witchlight-silhouetted figure of Ella.

Gold-Eye followed slowly, leaning on cars with his right hand, trying to figure out what was going on.

High above, the Myrmidons pulled away the table to show a Myrmidon Master the elevator shaft. It looked down it for a moment—then raised the jeweled medallion of a mind-call to its forehead.

The far row of cars included several electric runabouts still plugged into the recharger. Four of them appeared to be fully charged and operational, green charge lights glowing on their dashboards.

One of them was unlocked, and Ninde found the ignition keys under the front seat—a favored hiding spot in some of the old films she watched so avidly. Unfortunately, the old films—and Shade’s instructional courses—did not include driving lessons.

So three of them sat in the vehicle while Ella studied the manual from the glove compartment, with Ninde and Gold-Eye looking over her shoulder. The unspoken hope was that three minds could make sense of what one could not.

Drum stood outside, hand on his sword, listening. Every now and then he could feel a faint rush of fresh air against his face, carrying with it the peep-peep-peep of hunting Trackers. He knew the creatures would soon find their way into the parking lot, or block the exit, even though it was several hundred yards away under a completely different building.

Then the faint sound of hunting Trackers was drowned by the buzz of the electric car coming to life behind him, its body shaking slightly as if it was flexing muscles after a very long sleep.

A moment later it jerked backward suddenly. The tires spun and smoked as they sought purchase on the slick concrete—and the car leaped out of its place, only to stop equally suddenly as Ella stamped on the brakes. The squeal was so loud that Drum had no doubt it would bring the creatures even sooner….

“Get in!” shouted Ella, not bothering to be quiet anymore.

Drum looked at the car suspiciously, then walked around to the front passenger door, wary of any sudden rushes. He opened it, looked at it for a second—then with sudden violence ripped the door off its hinges and threw it on the ground.

“Easier to get out for me,” he said, sliding into the front seat. “When the creatures come.”

“Good idea,” replied Ella. She opened her door, then reversed violently back toward a supporting pillar. The car missed it by a fraction—but the door didn’t and tore off with a rasping shriek of metal on concrete.

Ella laughed, put the automatic shift to “drive,” and put her foot down again, spinning wheels and laying rubber as they sped off again.

“They always drive like this in films,” said Ninde confidently, guessing that Drum’s and Gold-Eye’s silences were caused more by fear of crashing than by fear of approaching creatures.

“I know what I’m doing,” shouted Ella as they squealed around a corner and up a ramp to the next level. “I just hope there aren’t any cars blocking the exit!”

“Or creatures,” muttered Drum. He had his sword out and held it across his massive knees, fingers white-knuckled on the grip.

They rounded another corner less easily, grazing concrete walls. Ella slowed a little as she realized that the accelerator wasn’t an on—off switch.

They started to turn the next corner and Gold-Eye was seized by his Change-Vision. He saw an enormous metal door grinding slowly upward, sunshine pouring under it as it lifted—but the gap between door and floor was a lot less than the height of the car….

“Duck!” he screamed, coming out of the vision as they rounded the last corner and shot up a ramp—straight at the reluctantly opening roll-a-door at thirty miles an hour.

Car and door met with a crash heard by every creature on campus. Metal buckled, glass exploded, they screamed. Then they were out in sunshine, sunshine pouring straight into the car because the roof was peeled back and hanging half off the rear of the vehicle.

Gold-Eye sat up with a jerk. He half expected to see headless corpses all around, but Drum and Ella were bent over the central well, backs covered in powdered glass. Ninde was still hunched down in the back too, as far as she could go.

And Ella’s foot was still flat to the floor, the car jumping a curb and onto the lawns, passing between two trees by pure luck.

Overhead, Wingers shrieked and took flight in pursuit. To their right, Myrmidons broke into a shambling run, and Trackers let forth their finding cry. The prey was in sight!

In sight, but now moving at fifty miles per hour. Ella had sat up and regained control, without taking her foot off the accelerator. Now she was steering for the buildings on the far side of the lawns. The roads were too congested with stopped cars for an escape, but once near the buildings, they could get away on foot, get into the drains….

A Winger suddenly screamed close behind, diving to attack—only to meet a sudden end as Ella jinked the car and Drum stood and swung his gold-etched sword. The blade sheared through the Winger’s neck, and momentum carried it on, so it bounced headless off the hood, spewing blue ichor across Drum’s forearms and face.

Gold-Eye and Ninde held Drum’s legs as he swung, sure that they couldn’t hold the big man if he overbalanced. Then the Winger was left behind them, and Drum sat down coughing and spluttering, wiping Winger ichor off on his sleeves.

“Get ready to run for it,” shouted Ella as they left the lawn and catapulted over a concrete strip. She slammed on the brakes, and the car slid through ninety degrees. It ended up facing the creatures, its back only inches from a long line of cars.

Another Winger, caught off guard, overshot its attack and plowed squealing into a station wagon with a sickening thud. It flopped once or twice but did not get up.

For a second they looked back at the battle lines of Myrmidons roaring toward them; the Trackers questing ahead; the Wingers swooping down. Then everyone was out and running, hunched over between the cars, heading for a narrow lane between two large shops.

Behind them the Myrmidons slowed and the Trackers sped up. It would be their job to find the renegades. The Wingers began to fly in higher circles, scanning the ground below. When the four targets emerged in open space, they would be ready.

Back in the laboratory, the Myrmidons were using fire extinguishers to quell the fire, but smoke still wreathed the room.

The Overlord Black Banner walked the room silently, the glow of the dying fires reflected in the opaque sheen of its full-faced visor. When it withdrew, the Myrmidon Master remained. It spoke quickly in battle tongue, and the Myrmidons began to clean up the mess, sorting the salvageable computers from the destroyed. A few minutes later other Myrmidons arrived, carrying large plastic crates.

Inside an hour, more than half of the original equipment from the laboratory was packed up—and taken away.

A triumphant team returned to the Submarine several hours after dark, wet from the drains but having suffered no further floods or creature encounters.

Tired and sore, but still exhilarated from their successful mission and high-speed escape, they exchanged their ichor-splashed, wet coveralls for towels and went to report to Shade.

Unusually, his disembodied voice addressed them in the main corridor before they’d gone more than halfway along the Sub.

“Well done, my children. Well done, indeed. I think you deserve a special reward. Why don’t you come down to the sick bay and meet me there?”

“Sick bay?” asked Gold-Eye, as Ella led them down to another hatch.

“Like a hospital,” explained Ella. “Where we keep medicines and help sick or hurt people. You’ll get your finger looked at there.”

She paused, hesitated, then added, “It’s also where Shade finds out more about creatures.”

She started to spin the locking wheel on the hatch, but Drum stopped her, speaking to the wall in his high-pitched voice.

“Shade. Gold-Eye and Ninde are not needed, are they?”

“Mmm?” replied Shade. “No. I suppose not. They can get cleaned up and have the evening off. No lessons.”

“But I want to see what the reward is,” exclaimed Ninde, looking at Ella appealingly. “And so does Gold-Eye.”

Ella didn’t answer. She looked at Drum, who simply said, “No,” and planted himself firmly in front of the hatch.

Ninde glared at him, then turned about and started back toward the bow.

“I hate you sometimes!” she spat, turning around at a safe distance. “You never let me do anything!”

Gold-Eye noticed that neither Drum nor Ella seemed particularly perturbed by this declaration—and since Ella hadn’t spoken, he thought perhaps he could try to stay.

“I see reward?” he asked hesitantly. But once again it was Drum who answered—forcefully.

“No. It’s not a reward you’d understand. Shade…jokes sometimes. Go with Ninde.”

Gold-Eye nodded obediently and followed Ninde down the corridor. She was holding the hatch open for him, and he sped up to get through.

As it clanged shut behind the younger pair, Ella said, “You’re mollycoddling them, Drum. It won’t be anything worse than what they’ve seen outside.”

“It will,” Drum said, his high voice at odds with his serious look. “It will be worse, because it’s not even quick—and we’re the ones doing it. Or Shade is.”

“It’s necessary,” Ella replied coldly. “Come on.”