Sunspire (The Reach, Book 4) (33 page)

Nurzhan stood at the doorway, watching over the sleeping forms of Talia and Roman.  Despite the unsettling discoveries inside Sunspire, the two of them had fallen into slumber quickly.

He wasn’t surprised.  They had been through a lot, and they hadn’t had any rest for some time.  They were exhausted.

He
and Kazimir, on the other hand, had been trained at the Citadel.  They knew how to conserve their energy, how to remain alert for days on end.

Nurzhan knew that they had to keep their wits about them.  They were close to their goal now, so close, but one slip could ruin everything.  He’d made a mistake earlier with that disparaging remark about the cultists, that they would never find the light.  Talia had looked at him strangely.

She had not yet twigged about their true identities yet – he was sure of that.  But one more ill-considered remark might be enough to give away their ruse.

“So, what now?” Kazimir murmured at his side.  “Do we kill them?”

“No.”

“But we agreed that nothing would stand in the way of our return to the Citadel.  All loose ends must be tied.”

“And they will,” Nurzhan assured him.  “But we need her to contact Knile first.  The elevator must be activated, and we must get on board.  Once we have reached the top, that’s when we tie up the loose ends.  All of them.”

“A righteous bloodbath, then?”

“Nothing less
than they deserve,” Nurzhan said.  “Talia, Roman, Knile… these faithless wretches are no better than the brainless cultists who killed themselves in the belief that death would bring them deliverance.  They will never leave this Earth.  Their souls are condemned.  They are bound to this place, and will forever languish in shadow.”  He turned to Kolos and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “But you and I, brother.  We will walk in the light.”

 

 

39

Back in Earthside Transit Control, Knile went over the launch procedure checklist for the fifth time in as many minutes.  Although much of the process was automated, there was still a sequence that needed to be followed.

Even though time was running out, it wouldn’t do them much good to screw something up during the launch and subsequently cause more delays.

Or worse, break something they couldn’t fix.

“Okay,” he said finally.  “I think I’ve got it.”

“So what’s the plan?” Ursie said.

“I think our best bet is for me to handle the technical side of things.  I can control the launch, make sure things go smoothly.”

“I’m happy with that,” Ursie said.

“We don’t have any contact with Talia at the other end, yet, but we can send the railcar on its way from here.  After that, I should be able to control the railcar all the way to the bottom of the ride.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ursie said.  “I’m with you so far.”

“So the main problem,” Knile said, “will be bringing the railcar back up again.  We can send it down to Talia, but it looks like there’s input needed from the other end to send it back.  Without the right technical expertise at her end, she might not be able to make the return trip.”

“Yeah, that’s a problem,” Ursie said.

“So, we’re stuffed,” Tobias grunted.

“Not exactly,” Knile said.  “There’s an option here to transfer control of the railcar to the vehicle itself once it’s free of the habitat.  Once again, it’s a backup system that’s supposed to kick in if communications are lost between transit control and the railcar.  We can activate it using an override.”

Ursie stared at him doubtfully.  “You’re going down in the railcar?”

Knile shrugged.  “There’s no other way.  I have to be down there to make sure we can launch again.”

“But you’re needed here as well,” she said.

“I can show you what you need to do here before I go.  It’s really not that difficult.  Just transfer control to me in the railcar, then sit back and watch the magic.”

“Yeah, right.”

“The scheme is sound,” Lazarus announced.  “This plan will give us the most chance of success.”

Knile checked his watch.  “And we’re running late.  We have to get the railcar on its way if we’re going to make it down and back in time.”

“I don’t like it,” Ursie said.  “But if that’s the way it has to be…”

Lazarus placed a hand on Knile’s shoulder.  “I will accompany you on this journey, my friend.  You should not make it alone.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Knile said.  “Thanks for the offer, but–”

“I will not stay,” Lazarus said, his eyes shifting to Ursie.  “Not here.  Not with this–”

“Yeah, okay,” Knile said quickly, hoping to avert another slanging match between the girl and the Redman.  “That’s a good idea.  You come with me.”  The thought of what might happen between those two should he not be around to act as peacekeeper was harrowing.

“So, let’s go over this procedure again,” Ursie said, scowling at Lazarus before turning back to the console.  “Just so I know what I’m doing.”

Knile went over the steps one last time, pointing out the sequence Ursie would need to follow in order to transfer control to the railcar.  Ursie seemed edgy, nervous that she was going to screw something up, but Knile had faith in her.

She was a smart kid.  She would figure it out.

With that done, he initiated the launch sequence.

“Five minutes till separation,” he said.  “Let’s get over there.”

At the departure gate a few moments later, they found a line of twelve short ramps that led up into the railcar compartments.  Knile stepped over and opened the first, then stared up into the dim confines of the module.  There was a chair within, with straps hanging loosely from its sides, and a console positioned before the window that offered a view of the outside environment.

“This is the one I need to take,” he told the others.  “It’s like the driver’s seat when control is passed to the railcar.”

“I will take the second module,” Lazarus said.

“Yeah, but no bashing your way out this time,” Knile said with a grin.

Lazarus glanced down ruefully at his knuckles, which were still bruised and swollen, covered in abrasions from where he had smashed his way through the compartment window on the ride up from the Reach.

“No.  Not this time.”

“You two better get back to control,” Knile said to Ursie and Tobias.  “We’ll see you in a few hours.”

Ursie gave a hesitant little wave, her eyes fixed on Knile as if she were attempting to prevent him from leaving by sheer willpower.

“Okay,” she said.  “Uh… good luck.”

“Bring me back a postcard, huh?” Tobias said with a wink.  Then the two of them turned and shuffled off again.

Lazarus began to walk up the ramp toward the open hatch on his compartment, then seemed to wince, sagging backward slightly, as if the effort of walking up the incline was too much.

“You okay?” Knile said.

“Of course,” Lazarus said, recovering quickly.  “Simply preparing myself for what lies ahead of us.”

Knile paused, suddenly feeling sorry for his companion.  “You don’t have to do this if you aren’t up to it.”

Lazarus’ eyes flashed.  “Do not condescend to me in such a way.  I wear the Crimson.  Strength is the cornerstone of the soul.  Without it, I am nothing.”  He shook his head.  “I
shall not relent, nor shall I
bow to infirmary.  I shall prevail.”

Knile pursed his lips.  “If you say so.”  To him, Lazarus’ words had sounded more like a mantra than anything, a collection of phrases that had probably been drilled into him during his years of training, and which he recited whenever the going got tough.  Hell, the guy would probably say the same even if his legs had been blown off and his entrails strewn across the field of battle.

He would believe he could prevail even in the face of certain death.

In any case, it didn’t matter now.  He was coming along for the ride, whether he was physically up to it or not.

He watched as Lazarus negotiated the final part of the climb and closed the hatch behind him, then did the same.  He nestled into his seat inside the railcar and clipped the straps into place, then took a deep breath.

The railcar powered up a few moments later, and then it began to move.

 

 

40

Rojas hit the brakes and the quad bike slid to a halt, bouncing and jostling along the potholed asphalt.  Yefim came not far behind, stopping abruptly in much the same fashion.  T
he obstacle loomed out of the darkness, glinting under the glare of their headlights.

Around them, the rain teemed down in torrents.  Rojas was wet through and through, his hair slick against his scalp, his clothes sticking to his skin like glue.  He was cold, fatigued.

But inside he was singing.  His soul rejoiced.

They were getting nearer.  He could feel it.

“What do you think?” Yefim said above the clamour of raindrops on asphalt.

Rojas stared at the military transport that had been positioned across the road, festooned in barbed wire.  There was no way around it, no way to move it.

“I think we’re walking from here,” Rojas said.

Yefim killed the engine and swung his legs off the seat, then activated his flashlight.

“Probably for the best,” he said.  “They might hear the bikes if we get too close.”

Rojas followed his henchman’s lead, shutting down the quad bike and climbing off.

“Just be careful with the flashlight,” he cautioned.  “Keep it low.  We don’t want them to see us coming if we can help it.”

“I know,” Yefim said, sounding wounded.  “I’ve hunted prey before.  This isn’t my first time.”

“Indeed.”

Yefim stepped closer to the transport.  “This blockade has been here for some time.  It was not placed here by Ciro.”

“No, more likely by his friends, those who came here before him.  Those he seeks to meet with at the end of this road.”

“How many of them do you think there are?”  Yefim sounded edgy for the first time in Rojas’ memory.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.  We are only two.  If he has a crew of twenty or thirty men up there–”

“Then we will kill them,” Rojas said through gritted teeth.  “We will kill every last one of them until only Ciro is left.  And then we will kill him, too.”

Yefim stood silent in the rain for a few moments, as if carefully considering his next words.

“If we were to wait until morning, ride out the storm, we could scout the place more thoroughly.  Plan our assault.  In my experience, those who rush in–”

“It happens
tonight
,” Rojas said.  “There will be no waiting.  This is destiny at work, don’t you see?  We are meant to be here now, under the cover of dark and rain.  And Ciro… he, too, is where he needs to be.  Waiting will only cause the spirit worlds to slip out of alignment again.  By morning, he will be out of reach.  I can feel it.”

“I know this means everything to you, but this is imprudent–”

Rojas lashed out and struck Yefim high on the cheek with the back of his hand, sending a spray of water from the man’s face and hair as he rocked backward.  Yefim staggered and almost fell, but regained his balance at the last moment.

He lifted a hand to his cheek, astonished.

“You question me again, and I will not be so gentle.”

“Yes,” Yefim said, allowing his hand to drop away.  “I understand.”

“Now.”  Rojas gestured up at the transport.  “Start moving.”

Yefim nodded, then did as instructed, climbing up on the back of the old vehicle and edging his way past the snaring grasp of the barbed wire.  Rojas took a moment to look back at the quad bikes, which were already being swallowed by darkness, and wiped a stray lock of hair back against his scalp.

The rain was like a baptism, he realised then.  The ushering in of a new life for him.  A new start.

When Ciro was dead, everything would be better.  He would finally find peace.

He smiled and began to make his way up onto the transport.

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