Shadow on the Sun (24 page)

CHAPTER 52

Hell's Cross

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
000. 0. 00. 00:00

 

 

The corridor from the courtyard to Zhao Zhou Bridge opens up into a cavern too mammoth to measure. There are no lights here, and it should be pitch-black, except the rock walls themselves seem to let off a glow.

“It's the phosphorus in the bedrock,” Mimi says. “There is nothing mysterious about it.”

“Any biosignatures in the vicinity?”

“Negative.”

“Then let me wax poetic, huh?” I say, and give the rucksack a shake. “This is a big moment. For once, I'm about to beat my father at his own game.”

“Nervous?”

“Maybe.”

“That explains the sweaty palms and underarms.”

“I love you, too, Mimi.”

The Zhao Zhou Bridge stretches about one hundred fifty meters in length and is twelve meters wide. Built out of concrete and rebar slabs jointed with dovetails and covered with paving stones, the main semicircle arch rises high above the gorge that separates the corridor leading to Hell's Cross from a wide cliff on the opposite end. There are ornamental railings on either side and an arched swing gate on each end.

The first time I came here, I tossed a rock into the open mouth of the chasm. I counted off seconds, waiting for the sound of it hitting bottom. When I got to one hundred, I quit—the abyss is bottomless.

“Not quite,” Mimi says. “Although there are no reports on record of a bottom per se, there are many places in the rock formations where an object can come to rest.”

“Like I said, bottomless.”

I need to reach the center of the bridge, my least favorite place in all of Fisher Four, and therefore, my least favorite place in the universe.

“You've plumbed the depths of the universe, have you?” Mimi says.

“Enough of it to know I'd rather be almost anywhere else,” I say, and pull the rucksack under my arm, carrying it like a ball as I jog across the bridge.

I'm halfway to the center when the first shot hits me in the heel, and my foot flies up. I spin around and draw my armalite.

The next bullet strikes my chest. The symbiarmor absorbs the shocks easily.

I flip down my visor.

“Mimi? Where's the shooter?”

“Indeterminate.”

“What?”

“I cannot locate any biorhythms, cowboy.”

What the
helvett
?

“My thoughts exactly,” she replies. “I suspect some sort of cloaking device. The shooter seems to be aware of your armor's abilities and is equipped to counter them.”

“That's so not copacetic,” I say.

Three more rounds ping off my armor, shredding my jacket. I rip it off and toss it aside.

My symbiarmor shines in the low light.

“Mimi, give me some camo. I'm glowing like a night-light.”

“Sorry,” she says. “Lyme had that feature removed with the last operating system update, along with the urticating hairs.”

“Bugger. Those hairs were starting to grow on me. Har-har.” Mimi is silent. “Get it? Grow on me?”

“No.”

“No? I thought you were programmed to recognize humor.”

“Puns are not funny.”

I start back toward the source of the shots, looking for a muzzle flash so I can return fire.

But I'm facing a pro. The shooting stops.

“Be careful,” Mimi says. “Approach with caution. Keep all firing angles available and don't depend on your eyes to tell you everything.”

It's Regulator 101. The same stuff she taught when Vienne and I were in her crew.

“Yes, chief,” I say.

“How I love it when you call me that,” Mimi says.

I keep moving. “Which one do you think it is? My money's on Nikolai. He was giving me the stink-eye.”

“I have another theory,” Mimi says.

I reach the end of the bridge.

Still no fire.

I'm a few meters from the courtyard when the shooter steps away from the rock wall. Her body is covered in brown-black dirt, almost perfectly camouflaged.

“Hello, Mother,” I say. “Who piddled in your mush?”

“By the way,” Mimi says, “my theory about the identity of the shooter was correct.”

Mother flips up her visor. She walks toward me, armalite on her hip. “You didn't recognize me?”

“Should I have?”

She pushes the hair out of her face. “I used to work for your father. I was one of the Regulators who protected you as a child.”

“Is she telling the truth?” I ask Mimi.

“I can neither confirm nor deny. The signal jammer is still operational.”

“I was a little brat sometimes,” I ask, “but is that a reason to shoot me?”

But she's not done. “My association with Stringfellow didn't end. I became his hunter.”

“Ancient history,” I say. “And I've got a job to do, so tell me what you want so I can get on with it.”

“What I want, Jacob Stringfellow, is your head.” She aims her armalite at my eye. “Your father paid me to kill you.”

CHAPTER 53

Hell's Cross

Outpost Fisher Four

ANNOS MARTIS
000. 0. 00. 00:00

 

 

In life there are certain little words that you yearn to hear, words such as “I love you,” “I'm proud of you,” or even “Thank you very much.”

“Your father paid me to kill you” doesn't make the list.

“You came to Hell's Cross on the chance you'd find me?” I say to Mother, finger on the trigger of my armalite. “You don't gamble a lot, I hope.”

“The odds had nothing to do with it,” she says. “I knew Vienne would lead me to you. All it took was patience.”

I inch to the left to get a better angle on her. “You were hunting me?” I ask.

“And you walked right into my snare.”

“Walking into snares is one of my many talents,” I say. “I can also juggle.”

Mother keeps me in her sights. “Lyme wants you dead. But you and I are old friends, so I am willing to make a deal. Give me the device, and I will let you live. Refuse, and I will kill you. Your choice.”

“That's not much of a choice,” I say. “And I call it the pigeon.”

Mother waves her gun at me. “Who cares what it's called? I only care what it's worth.”

“Even if you get the pigeon,” I point out, “you'll never escape the mines without our help. It's a labyrinth. Blind tunnels. Dark holes. Cave-ins at every turn.”

“I'm not worried.” She holds up the map. “I still have this.”

Bugger. “Not to brag or anything,” I say, changing strategies, “but your gun won't put a dent in my armor.”

“Want to bet?” she says, backing up. “I read the MUSE file. Advanced symbiarmor, robust nanobots, an adaptive AI to control it all. You're quite the
Übermensch
. But I know your weak points.”

She plucks what looks like a large plasma grenade from her belt. With the click of a switch, it glows orange and makes a high-pitched whine as she moves closer. “This is a portable EMP. You know what it will do.”

Kuso
. The last time I got hit with an EMP, it shorted out my suit, and Vienne was kidnapped.

“She's got us, Mimi.”

“Not yet, cowboy,” Mimi says. “The show is not over until the fat lady sings.”

“She's not fat.”

“It is an adage, not a statement of fact.”

“I knew that,” I say, then point at the EMP device. “That thing works on your armor, too, Mother. Set it off, and you'll be as carked as I.”

“Excellent grammar,” Mimi says.

“Thanks,” I say. “I don't want to die with pronoun misusage on my ledger.”

Mother tosses the EMP in the air, then catches it. “So it works on me,” she says, just an arm's length from me. “I don't depend on my suit, but take your enhancements away and you're weaker than I am. And don't forget, I already have a gun ready to expand your nostrils.”

“I can take her.”

“Do you not see the EMP, cowboy? Think. What else can it do besides short out electronics?”

“It can activate the pigeon.”

“Affirmative. Stall her, cowboy. For just a few seconds more.”

“Lyme is a bloodthirsty tyrant,” I say. “That's why you joined Desperta Ferro. What about their cause?”

She clicks her tongue. “I joined the Ferro so those idiots could do my dirty work. Do you think I care about their pathetic causes?”

“I'd really hate,” I say, “to have you as a mother, Mother.”

“How would you know, you motherless
scheisskerl
?” She draws back the hammers on the shotgun. “I'm counting down from ten, then I'm going to blow you into tiny pieces. Ten . . .”

“Zero.”

Vienne opens fire with Jenkins's 50-caliber minigun.

Bullets rip across bridge. Brick chunks fly into the air.

I slap the shotgun away as Mother pulls the trigger and—

Ba-boom!

Both barrels fire.

The shot rips past my temple. My head rings like a C-42 blast inside my skull, my hearing deafened by the percussive blast. “Ow! My ears!”

“It is just the right one,” Mimi says. “The left is functioning normally.”

I work my jaw, and Mother plants a side kick in my gut. She vaults away from me—bullets from the minigun chasing her—and tosses a smoke grenade.

The air fills with thick smoke.

“Chief!” Vienne calls. “I can't see!”

“Stay down!” I crawl toward her as the minigun still chatters, chucking hundreds of bullets into the smoke. “Mimi, locate Mother's biorhythm.”

“Have we forgotten the jammer?”

The cloud ripples. I feel the vibration of approaching footfalls. I sweep my legs but find nothing but smoke.

“Look out!” I yell.

Mother sprints out of the billowing haze and rams into Vienne, bashing her against the bridge wall. Blinded by the fumes, Vienne tries to throw a block, but Mother body slams her.

“Vienne!” I yell.

The smoke thins, and I can see Mother standing over Vienne, raising a combat knife.

I shake the ringing from my head. Get to my feet. And charge like a scud missile. “No!” I drive a shoulder into Mother's sacrum. Her spine cracks, and her head snaps back. Her arms fly up, and she lands hard on her belly. The knife skitters to the blasted-out railing. It teeters on the brink, and then disappears into the black chasm.

A quick glance—Vienne's dazed.

But no blood.

Mother rolls to her feet. Brings her fists up in the Regulator fighting stance, a paving stone in her hand. “Deal's off. I'm going to teach you a lesson.”

She fires the brick at my face. It rips into my cheek. My flesh opens, and blood pours out. I barely feel it.

“My turn,” I say, and land punches to Mother's solar plexus, then go for the weak spot at the base of her neck.

But she's fast.

I miss.

She sweeps up a handful of guanite dust into my face.

I drop to my knees.

Fingers clutching my throat.

Tears squirt from my eyes. My vision swims, images turning liquid, and my right eye goes black.

I suck in the fine dust. Particles coat my mouth, my lungs. Then air catches in my windpipe as I try to draw a breath.

“Sucker,” Mother says and grabs my hair. Slams a knee into my face. Blood spurts from my busted lips, and she shoves me backward. My skull smacks stone.

I roll to my side and try to stand.

She pins me down with a heavy boot. Laughs. And draws her armalite. The laser site dances in my bionic eye. “You gambled and lost,” she says. “Get ready to cash in your chips—”

Blam!

A shot echoes across Hell's Cross.

A hole appears in Mother's forehead. She makes a small ow sound and blows out a puff of air. Her eyes go vacant. And she falls.

“Durango!” Vienne calls. She's still down, fighting for breath. No weapon in hand.

I kip up to my knees. Take a wheezing breath and shake the cobwebs from my skull. Squeeze the tears from my good eye, then squint hard because I can't believe what I'm seeing.

The Ferro captain, Nikolai, is walking slowly toward us. Blue smoke trails from the revolver in his hand. His eyelids are half closed, and his head is bowed. “The Brothers Koumanov are pawns for no one, not even Mother Koumanov.”

Vienne rubs smoke from her eyes. “Nikolai?” She looks to me, to Mother Koumanov's dead body, then back to Nikolai.

Nikolai bends down and closes Mother's eyes. He folds her arms on her chest, then, kneeling, crosses himself and murmurs a prayer.

Then before I realize what he's doing, he lifts Mother into his arms and rolls her body over the railing. She tumbles silently into the darkness.

“
Minge põrgu
!” I say and grab him by the lapels, hoisting him off the ground. “Why did you do that? Show some respect for the dead.”

Nikolai doesn't fight me. He just holds his hands up and looks at the ground. “Mother was traitor. Traitors deserve no respect.”

“Durango,” Vienne says. “Put him down. Please.”

I set Nikolai on his feet but give him a hard shove for good measure. “Explain yourself, Ferro,” I say.

“Back in hut,” he says, and rubs his forehead, “Mother tells me that after job, we are shooting my brothers and keeping diamonds for ourselves. I know she is up to no good.”

“I'm sorry,” Vienne says. “But thank you.”

“Is nothing,” he says.

I see something pass between them, though I'm of no mind to figure out what it is. “She was working for Lyme,” I say. “If that helps any.”

Nikolai shakes his head. “Maybe later it helps. Now, not so much.”

“Right.” There's nothing else to say, and we've got a job to finish. “Nikolai,” I say. “The plan's still in effect. Get your brother.”

“Brothers. Two more are waiting in tram house.”

“Get your
brothers
and rescue the miners,” I say, “then haul butt until you reach the surface. Don't stop for anything until you're three kilometers from the mines, understand?”

“I understand,” Nikolai says. “Brother will give signal when all is clear. Big signal.” Then he bows to Vienne. “
Lapochka
, the pleasure has been mine.”

She makes the sign of the Regulator, then bows.

“What's that about?” I ask as Nikolai jogs away.

“A reminder,” she says, “that heroes don't always act the part.”

“Fair enough,” I say, and look back at the Zhao Zhou Bridge, feeling the weight of the pigeon in my rucksack. Now's as good a time as any to get rid of this thing. I start running up the bridge.

“
Where
are you
going
?” Vienne shouts. “Don't we have a pregnant woman to rescue?”

“This is important!” I run until I'm a quarter of the way across the chasm. I take the pigeon out of my rucksack, making sure that the light is still blinking green. Then with all the strength I can muster, I rear back and let my arm fly.

Boom-ba-da-boom!

The mother of all explosions rips through the mines. The bridge—no, the whole carking mine—undulates as the shock wave passes. Vienne and I are thrown to the ground, pounded by rocks falling from the ceiling.

And instead of going into the bottomless part of the chasm, the pigeon flies straight into the air. It lands on the railing, rolls for a few seconds, then flops over the side.

“
Gŏu niáng yăng de
!” I yell. “
Aus Angst in die Hosen schiessen
!”

“What was
that
?” Vienne yells. She stands, knocking rubble from her armor.

I run to the bridge railing and lean over. There, about a hundred meters below, resting on an outcropping, is the pigeon. Its green light is bright enough to shine like a beacon.

The pigeon is too close to leave behind but too far to reach. I'll have to rappel to the cliffs below, then climb down to the outcropping.

“Vienne!” I call. “I need a rope or a cable—”

“Cowboy,” Mimi says. “By calculating the strength and duration of the shock wave from the blast, I can surmise that a megaton bomb known as a bunker buster was dropped on the surface above.”

“Which means?” I reply.

“The integrity of the mine support structure is compromised.”

“Chief!” Jenkins yells from the entrance to Hell's Cross, his voice barely reaching us. “Fuse needs some help.”

“The Sturmnacht's blasting the tunnels all to mush!” Fuse yells, pushing Jenkins aside. “We've got to get Áine before the bleeding mine comes down on knickers!”

That settles it. The abyss—and the pigeon—will have to wait.