Authors: Gillian Andrews
The older companion moved silently across the corridor to the next opening and gestured for Tallen to move into the chamber. The Namuri, as slick on his feet as ever, was inside within the closing of an eyelid.
But there was nothing there, either.
Bennel looked across at First
Six. There was another man who had suddenly realized something, he thought. For if they themselves had not found the orthogel, it meant that the other team had. And Six’s wife was part of that other team, as well as his two best friends. Which meant that both the other members of his own team were spoiling for trouble. Bennel looked them over, concern in his eyes. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to intervene, but he also thought it more than likely that he would. He could feel the tension mounting with each step closer they got to the rear of the island. He prayed to Sacras that they would find Arcan themselves, that they would be the ones to make choices, to decide futures, but he was awfully afraid that it would be Ledin’s group who did that.
The next chamber was a washout.
And the next.
And the one after that.
At the following opening they were forced to stand flattened back against the wall of the corridor for a good five minutes, as Dessite after Dessite seemed to pick that particular moment to pass through. They were wet and had clearly just come into the island facility through the hatches. Bennel hid a sigh. That, no doubt, meant that in a few moments the workers they were relieving would be wending their way back to the tubes and the hatches; ready to return to their sea, to their home waters.
Unfortunately, they would find three off-worlders in the way. And that would mean waiting until the tubes were empty before they themselves could abandon the planet. Bennel looked around worriedly. There were only a few more areas to search. They would have to wait.
Then a dull crump sounded in the confined space. It was small, but unmistakable. Somebody had used explosives – though from the sound of it, only a small part. So someone needed a distraction. Well, that was certainly working. At exactly the same time as they registered the booming reverberation, all of the Dessites in the area moved like lightning over to the starboard side of the facility, abandoning the port area as if they belonged to one single body.
Bennel looked back at Tallen. “They have used the explosives! They must have found the orthogel!”
The Namuri grinned and pulled out his sword. “Then it is time to act! Come on – it came from that way!” His eyes flickered from one to the other of his colleagues, and he looked eager.
“That was not the full blast,” said Six, just as keen to get into battle as the Namuri. “They might need our help. Come on!” He and Bennel hurriedly drew their own weapons and threw themselves after the Namuri, who had taken off in the direction of the explosion as soon as he had heard Six’s words. The time to hide was past; now it was time to fight.
Chapter 9
LEDIN, DIVA AND Grace had started from the front of the island, too, working their way back towards the hatches. It was slow, dangerous work, and nerves were on edge. It seemed that they needed eyes in the backs of their heads to see where the next Dessite was coming from.
There was nothing at all in the first quarter of the search, and it wasn’t until they were approaching the cell which had held the visitor, a year ago, that they realized they were getting close. The number of Dessites in the area had increased exponentially, and there was a secretive hum of excitement about those which were coming and going from the area.
Ledin nudged Grace, and she nodded, before signaling to Diva. The laboratory in front of them seemed to be the hub of all the activity. They edged towards the large door.
At first, they could see nothing inside, but then they realized that the laboratory was being kept dark deliberately, that some effort was being made to keep the orthogel in an ambience it was used to.
For, in the middle of the laboratory, was a huge pool of darkness, which they could see was being constrained in some sort of a transparent container.
Diva’s eyes opened wide. That was a huge volume; it looked much more than the ten tons which the visitor had mentioned! She couldn’t even begin to imagine how the Dessites had got hold of it. She looked towards the others and made a slight movement to indicate the explosives which she was carrying. Ledin inclined his head. There was certainly nothing to be decided here; they had no choice. His hand went automatically to the explosives at the side of his belt, too, and he began to untie them.
Grace looked down and fumbled at her own belt, her scarred hands and missing fingers making her clumsy.
Diva looked again at them both and made signs that they should each try to estimate how many of the Dessites they would have to get past.
They nodded their understanding and looked surreptitiously around. It was going to be very hard to get in close to the orthogel, they could see. Apart from the continual to-ing and fro-ing of the Dessite investigators, there were at least six who seemed to be in the laboratory all the time, probably acting as guards.
It didn’t take them long to see that there was an insurmountable problem. There were simply too many Dessites in that particular chamber for them to be able to get past and set the explosive. Grace bit her lip. The only thing she could think of was for someone to entice the Dessites away from their posts, leaving time for the others to get inside and get the explosives set.
She turned to Diva and Ledin, and the three of them eased themselves behind a small pile of machinery that was in the process of being transported into the laboratory, but had been temporarily deposited to the left-hand side of the door.
“We will have to create some sort of a distraction. What do you both think?”
Diva nodded, but Ledin seemed doubtful. “It will be very dangerous for the one who provokes the distraction,” he said. “With all the Dessites in the area rushing out to see what is happening, it is going to be hard not to be caught.
I
will do it.”
Grace opened her mouth, but then closed it again. Diva shook her head decisively.
“
I
will go,” she said, in a tone that brooked no gainsaying. “You two can place the explosives, detonate them as soon as you are out of the area, and then make your way back to the hatches. I am much quicker than either of you, you both know that. It will be a doddle. All I have to do is place a tiny quantity of explosive against one of the walls, and then make tracks out of there.”
Ledin hesitated. It seemed to him that the most dangerous part of the mission would be providing the distraction. Finally, he shook his head.
“I’m sorry, but I think I had better do that,” he said slowly. “As soon as you two hear the small explosion, get close enough to place those charges.” He passed his explosive and fuses to Diva, leaving himself with only two fuses and a small quantity of explosive. “Grace, you leave the fuses to Diva – she will be able to manipulate them more easily. Your job will be to place the explosives, all right? Make sure that the charges are in place, even if you
are
able to communicate with Arcan; we aren’t going to get a second chance.”
Grace nodded, but her eyes were worried. It seemed to her that this might be the last time she would see Ledin, and she tried to burn the impression of his face on her retina. Then she smiled at him, and nodded. “Keep safe.”
After a short, interior struggle, she turned away from her husband and gently took the explosive from Diva’s fingers, leaving the handful of fuses behind. “Let me take those.”
When she turned around, Ledin was gone. The two girls crouched behind the stack of machinery, and waited anxiously.
LEDIN HAD SPOTTED a useful area some corridors back, on their way in. He made his way there with minimum pauses as Dessites swept past, and it only took a moment to set a fuse.
He had chosen this spot because it was right in the centre of the island; he hoped that it would attract Dessites from both sides, and that it would be loud enough for Six’s group to realize that they had found Arcan.
The room itself was some sort of computer storage area. He had seen bank upon bank of what looked like memory discs. They were made of a mixture of carbon nanographite with something like rexelene; Ledin was hopeful that it would burn with copious amounts of smoke.
He ducked out of the chamber just before the charge went off, and secreted himself in another storage room opposite. He would have had more chance of escaping detection if he had set a longer fuse, but he knew that they didn’t have any time to spare.
He flattened himself to the wall to one side of the opening, and the explosives detonated.
Instantly, the whole area seemed teeming with Dessites. Clouds of billowing black smoke were spilling out of the computer room, and Ledin could smell and hear the crackling of flames, quickly getting out of control.
Then there was a rustle in front of him, he felt some sort of fine mist permeating his hiding place, and he looked up to see the huge body of one of the Dessites in the archway to the room he was in. He froze, to escape detection, but it didn’t seem to work, for the large eyes turned in his direction and seemed to be examining him in great detail.
Ledin swallowed. There was nothing for it. The time for hiding had passed. He drew his sword in one fluid movement and gave the first battle cry which occurred to him.
“For KWAIIIDE!”
The words seemed to rattle around the enclosed room and bounce back to his ears, enhanced and metallic, before the point of his sword found the soft tissue of the Dessite in front of him, and cut into it.
THE SMALL EXPLOSION, when it came, was big enough to move the floor they were standing on. Even the girls, who were expecting it, jumped.
The Dessites in the laboratory moved towards the corridor in their strange gliding shuffle.
As soon as they were out of the laboratory, Diva and Grace raced forwards. Grace ducked behind the large tank and began to push the putty-like explosive flat underneath the raised base. It was impossible to see, because the orthogel inside was dark and opaque.
Grace stopped suddenly. She thought she had heard a distant battle cry, thought she could make out her husband’s voice. She struggled with herself for a short moment. She mustn’t think about what might be happening to him. She had a job to do.
Quickly, she dipped to secure more explosive at each of the corners, looking back over her shoulder in case one of the Dessites should return. Diva was following her around, setting the fuses carefully in each pack of explosive and priming them for detonation.
Grace placed the last pack, and turned; Diva was only one behind her, and was already finishing the placement. She checked that the way was clear, and then moved up to the tank, placing both hands flat against the surface.
“Arcan? Can you hear me?”
There was no answer. Grace repeated the question, this time more insistently.
Diva had fixed the last fuse, and now she was beside Grace; her own slender hands flat up against the container holding their friend.
Grace looked sideways. “Use your fingers! Like we used to … sign it!”
“What?”
“I can’t, because I lost my fingers. You have to, Diva. Sign it!”
Diva shook her head. She couldn’t see what use signing would be; there was a thick barrier of some sort of rexelene spotted with carbon nanographite between her and Arcan. However, she obediently began to sign the words.
“Arcan? Can you hear us?”
To her great surprise, there was an immediate flash of colour inside the tank. Grace squeaked with pleasure, and motioned her to go on.
Diva obeyed, signing through the material. “We have put explosives. Can we get any part of you away before they detonate?”
The colour inside the transparent cylinder seemed to improve. Close to where the girls were, a small area of the orthogel cleared, leaving perhaps a few hundred litres which looked like the Arcan they were used to.
“Thank you for coming.” Now his voice, very quavery, sounded inside both their heads. It clearly took him all his energy to get the sound out of the nanographite trap, for the result was almost a whisper; they had to concentrate hard to hear him.
“How could we not?” Grace said firmly. “You are our friend. What can we do?”
Arcan flushed an uncomfortable greenish tinge. “There is nothing you can do,” he said. “I am unable to escape the nanographite; and although the canths are managing to stop the Dessites from dragging any more of me over, the part of me which is already here is trapped. I don’t have the energy to escape. I am doomed; the best thing you can do is to blow up any trace of me.”
Grace looked at the dullness of the orthogel in front of her, and found herself thinking about all they had been through together since that first moment when Arcan had terrified her by pushing back at her fingers, when she had laid her hands on the lake. She looked at the magnificent lake now, and felt a tear run down her cheek. She gave a sob.
“Please, Arcan! Help us to help you! There must be something we can do, surely?”
But the orthogel in front of them went dark. “There is nothing,” he said in a flat voice.
Diva had been examining the transparent walls under her fingers. “You know,” she said slowly, “I think we could force our way through this, with only a small charge.”
“That will not help me,” Arcan told her. “It will not affect the outcome. You should set the fuses and get out while you still can.”
Diva straightened her neck imperiously. “No!”
Both Grace and Arcan stared at her.
“Well, what? I am not going to tamely walk out on Arcan. Not after all we have been through together! Not going to happen!” The Coriolan girl glanced around her. “Come on, Grace, quickly! Let’s at least free Arcan from that awful tank he is in. We have time!”
“You hope!” But Grace obeyed, grabbing a small piece of the explosive from the last placement and jamming it up tight against one of the corners of the tank, where two of the walls met.
Diva put one of her last fuses into it and activated the fuse. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t set off all the others!” she said. “We would all be blown to smithereens.”
“Now you tell me!” Grace ducked behind a nearby box and covered her head with her hands.
Diva joined her hastily, and they waited for about three seconds before a dull crump told them that the charge had detonated. There was a pause, and then a sharp crack told them that their efforts had met with at least some success. Diva was glad that the Dessites had no exterior hearing; that would certainly have alerted them.
Grace poked a cautious head out from the box. Sure enough there was one large crack in the material and, as she watched, several others ran out from that central crack, traversing quite a long way around the cylinder.
Diva grabbed a piece of solid rock from one of the work benches and began to attack the material, chipping away at the crack frantically. Grace took the hilt of her catana and tried to help.