Wild Sun

by Ehsan Ahmad

  “Not sure. But we’re not leaving her alone until either she joins us or she swears to say nothing.”

  It didn’t take long to find Torrin’s compartment, which was on the lower level. Unfortunately, she was not alone. Both women were about to take off their dirty overalls when they noticed they were being watched.

  Cerrin smiled at the second woman. “I’d like a word with Torrin. Can you give us a minute?”

  The woman—also Echobe but middle-aged—glanced at Torrin, who nodded her agreement. When the woman left, Cerrin sat on the edge of the compartment. Torrin came forward and sat with her legs crossed in front of her. Kannalin loomed over them.

  “I have nothing to say to you.”

  Like Torrin, Cerrin kept her voice down. “You did earlier. Then suddenly you walked off. Why?”

  Torrin reached up and rubbed the large metal ring in her left ear. “If it were just you, I would help. But not with Palanians. Never.”

  “That’s it? That’s why? Listen, we have to forget the old ways. We’re in this together—”

  “It has nothing to do with the old ways. On the night shift, some of ours won’t even work with the Palanians. The Vitaari keep them separate just to avoid trouble. We’ve had six informers here. Five were Palanian.”

  “But there’s been nothing like that for years.”

  “How do you know? We only found out about those six because either someone worked it out or the Vitaari moved them on. Now suddenly this new lot arrive and you’re in with them straight away? Not me.”

  “What if you wouldn’t have to work with them?”

  “If they’re involved, I’m not.” Torrin pointed at the corridor. “Now go. And take your big friend. I’m not afraid of you, Cerrin.”

  “I need your word—that what I told you goes no further. To anyone. Ever.”

  “Wishing you hadn’t told me your plan?” A smile tugged at the edge of Torrin’s mouth. “Not very good at this, are you?”

  She saw it coming and tried to pull away, but Cerrin was too quick for her.

  She gripped Torrin’s collar and pulled her face in close. “I’m sorry you said no. I wish you’d change your mind. But if you don’t, know that I’m watching. If I even suspect you’ve opened your mouth, our next conversation will be a lot less pleasant. Do you understand me?”

  Torrin tried to pull away, but Cerrin was too strong.

  “Understand?”

  When Torrin nodded, Cerrin let her go and stood up. She was about to leave when the woman spoke again:

  “It’s not me you should worry about.”

  Ignoring the curious looks, Cerrin turned and walked away, Kannalin beside her.

  “Not good,” he said.

  “No. And we still need another body.”

  “Leave that to me.”

  Sonus examined the components. He had begun work on the firing mechanism, starting with the spring, which would fire a piston into the faulty power cell. If his theories proved practicable, the cell would detonate and the resultant blast would launch the shrapnel-filled casing out of the barrel. He had already taken the spring apart in order to understand its workings. Now he had to reconfigure it as part of the weapon. But he was tired from a day’s work back in the mine; his mind was foggy and slow.

  He would not use the data-pad tonight. He’d already spent countless hours reading the documentation and now felt he understood the basics of the combat shells. Recently, he’d been studying the controls, a wondrous but worryingly complex system involving sensors mounted on fingers and various screens. Though the guards never seemed to have much trouble controlling them, Sonus imagined they had been through hundreds of hours of training. He was determined to know every last sentence of the manual by heart but appreciated that no amount of preparation could compensate for actual experience. In truth, he reckoned he would do well to get one of the machines off the ground.

  But what gave him hope was what he could do with that machine. He’d only had time for a cursory glance at the section detailing weapons and equipment, but if the armory had even half of it, there was almost no limit to the damage he could inflict. The targeting systems seemed simple by comparison with the controls, and the shells could be equipped with up to four weapon modules including assault cannons, disruptor beams, anti-personnel clusters, anti-structure missiles, flare-bursts, and incendiary bombs. As interesting were the defensive measures: deflector fields, anti-missile systems, armor plates, jamming nodes.

  Once more, Sonus looked down at the components laid out on the floor. He was squatting behind a barrel, working under a weak light he didn’t have time to fix. There was still so much to do, but if he were to ever get close to the combat shells, he would need a weapon; and it would have to be lethal.

  They had decided on a few rules. Firstly, everyone was to work in an order decided daily by Cerrin and Sadi (and passed on to all involved by Yarni). Secondly, no one should communicate during the hours of night unless there were an emergency. Thirdly, no one was to work longer than twenty minutes.

  Cerrin was to dig last on the first night, and she did not sleep at all. Sadi began, followed by the two Palanian men, then Kannalin, then Sirras. Kannalin’s new prospect was his cousin, but they had decided as a group not to approach anyone else until they were up and running.

  Cerrin was scared. Not for herself, but for the others and the possibility they might be discovered. She could not be absolutely certain of anyone other than Yarni, and Torrin’s warning had stayed with her. She could not see that the Vitaari would gain a great deal by going to the trouble of planting someone like Sadi, yet Torrin had seemed so sure she was not to be trusted. Cerrin remembered a time when her attitude toward the Palanians had been similar—as it was amongst many Echobe. She told herself she had to go with her instincts, and they told her Sadi was no liar.

  When the time finally arrived, it was only eagerness to do her part that overcame her exhaustion. Assuming Sirras had finished her turn, she slipped out of the doorway and into the darkness. They had even discussed the dangers of leaving a visible trail on the ground, so she took an indirect route toward the containers.

  Startled by a cough from Block B, she composed herself before moving on. The noise had probably come from someone too ill to work who had not yet been admitted to the infirmary. Cerrin reminded herself to be doubly careful on the way back; it was possible the Vitaari might send someone over.

  She reached the gap and moved between the containers. There was a lot of drilling going on below, enough to cause a tremor in the walls of metal. The hole was covered by plastic sheeting: another of Sadi’s ideas. Cerrin pulled it away and stared down into the darkness.

  It was surprisingly deep: she was impressed by what the others had achieved. Lying next to the hole was a shovel and a large bucket, which had been liberated from the latrine. Tied around a strut at the base of one of the containers was a rope that ran down into the hole. Attached to it were several loops to help the digger climb in and out. The level of the ground was already higher where the excavated earth had been dumped and then flattened. Sadi had been the first to point out that redistributing the waste would soon become a major issue; yet another problem they would have to solve.

  Cerrin took a last look around. Even the high lights of the tower and the wall were obscured by the containers. Directly above, streaks of silvery cloud drifted past. She listened for a moment, but there was only the buzz of the drills to be heard.

  She placed the shovel in the bucket, hung the bucket over her arm, and climbed down. Finding the loops with her feet in the darkness wasn’t easy, but she reached the bottom safely, estimating it was at least ten feet from the surface.

  The shaft was four feet wide as agreed; they needed that much space to work. Cerrin put the bucket down in a corner and took out the shovel. Even the memory of tiredness was long gone. With a grim smile, she bent over and started digging.

  22

  L
itas was waiting for Sonus at the top of the walkway. Most of the workers were already on their way down and the rest were filing past quickly. The wind was light and no snow was falling, but the plateau was bitterly cold.

  “Can I speak with you?” asked Litas, eyes narrow under his hood.

  Sonus nodded and stood to one side with him. He would have preferred to avoid the conversation—he had a day of work behind him and an evening of work ahead—but it was more circumspect to speak to the man here than in the busy cavern.

  Litas waited until the last worker was out of earshot. “I’ve arranged a meeting. Someone you should talk to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Wait two minutes, then follow me down.”

  Without another word, Litas hurried away.

  Sonus watched him, then looked back across the compound. The temperature ensured the only Vitaari outside were those who need-ed to be there. There seemed to be some problem with the conveyor, which had been stopped. The four engineers had gathered at one particular section, all wearing bulky jackets over their overalls and now deep in discussion. A pair of guards had just emerged from behind the tower. They noticed the lone figure immediately. Sonus made for the walkway; he didn’t need that kind of attention.

  Far below the plateau, the barren plains were lit orange by the setting sun. Few people had ever ventured to this region before the invasion, and Sonus often stared down at the distant ground, looking and hoping for a speck of movement. He saw nothing but a flight of dark birds, arrowing west.

  There were twelve sets of steps down to the cavern, one hundred twenty individual steps in all. Below the seventh set, two hooded figures were waiting. Litas saw him coming and swiftly switched his attention to his companion. As Sonus took his hand off the icy rail, the second figure turned. When she saw him, she tried to flee.

  Litas pushed her back, then reached inside his jacket and pulled out a rusty metal spike about five inches long. “Take down your hood.”

  She did so. Sonus knew only her face and name. Eldi was a woman of about fifty. She had thin gray hair, and her features were pinched and pale. She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes darting from one man to the other.

  “It was her,” said Litas. “It was her that told them about Qari.”

  “No,” said Eldi. “I would never—”

  “Don’t even try,” he snapped.

  Though it should have been obvious, Sonus had not anticipated this. He dragged his eyes off the spike. “How do you know?”

  “It took a while. Those bitches in the kitchens stick together. But I’ve been asking around. Asking everyone. Her name came up once at the start, but I couldn’t be sure. Then old Jansarri at the infirmary overheard the surgeon talking last week. About Qari—getting rid of the baby. He knew who told the Vitaari.” He jabbed the spike toward Eldi.

  She shook her head violently. “I would never do something like that. Never.”

  Litas nodded down at the grating beneath them. “Slippery today. One wrong step and off you go.”

  The sun had almost set. Beyond the rock face was darkness.

  Eldi shrank back against the rock. “I didn’t do it, Sonus. I swear by the Maker.”

  Sonus didn’t consider himself a great judge of people. Nor did he consider the opinion of Litas particularly reliable, but when he look-ed at her, he was sure. He glanced again at the black depths below them and thought of the shaft where Karas and Qari had fallen.

  “Give me that.”

  With a sly grin, Litas handed him the spike.

  “I’ll scream,” said Eldi.

  “Not for long.” Sonus turned toward her. “Tell the truth.”

  “There are six of us work in those kitchens. Any one of them—”

  “Tell the truth,” repeated Sonus. “Do it and I’ll let you go. You have my word.”

  He expected a protest from Litas, but none came.

  Eldi peered at him, hands bunching into anxious fists.

  Sonus spoke gently and lowered the spike. “You have my word.”

  She was still shaking her head. “It wasn’t me. You can’t believe him.”

  Sonus took a step toward her. “But you must tell me.”

  Her teeth were chattering, her mouth twisting.

  Sonus gripped the spike, felt the uneven metal beneath his fingers. “The truth.”

  It came suddenly. “Some of the others knew. They were covering for her. They’re my friends. I thought the Vitaari would kill them all. I didn’t know her. I thought it would be better for her anyway. I didn’t know she would…”

  “Do it now,” hissed Litas. “There’s no one around. Now.”

  Eldi slid to the ground and covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry. Sonus, I’m sorry.”

  “You traitor whore,” spat Litas. “What else have you told them over the years?”

  She dropped her hands, looked up at them. “Nothing. Nothing, I swear.”

  Sonus said, “It’s not ‘her.’ Or ‘she.’ Her name was Qari. He was Karas. You should never forget those names.”

  “I will not,” cried Eldi. “I pray for them. Them and the little one. I will pray for forgiveness from the Maker.”

  Sonus closed his eyes for a moment, then stood aside. “Go.”

  She got to her feet.

  “Let her past.”

  Litas shook his head in disbelief but moved aside.

  Back pressed against the rock, Eldi slid past them. She stumbled on the first step, then hurried downward.

  Litas rubbed a knuckle against his brow and grimaced. “I didn’t think even you were this pathetic.”

  Sonus threw the spike into the darkness.

  Litas said, “You haven’t changed much at all, Sonus. Still a weak-willed traitor, just like her. Maybe that’s why you let her go.”

  “Is she the enemy, Litas? Am I?”

  He walked past him and did not look back.

  Five nights of good work had given them a new set of problems. The tunnel itself was not one of them. Having dug fourteen feet straight down, they were now moving horizontally and had progressed twenty-three feet. They would have to cover a similar distance again before cutting diagonally downward to intersect the top level of the mine. The earth was not easy to dig through, but its firm consistency meant the tunnels kept their shape well. They had taken the precaution of adding a few supports to the horizontal section (thin plastic panels liberated from the Block A beds), but this was largely to put the diggers at ease. They knew they would not be able to find materials to reinforce the tunnel properly. There had been only one small collapse, during Sadi’s shift, and she had never been in danger.

  The first problem had arisen once they started the horizontal section. Whoever was digging had to lie flat and use a trowel and fork. The earth was placed in the bucket as before, but if the same person had to remove it, work would be painfully slow. So now they had to operate in pairs: one to dig, one to remove the soil. The bucket was attached to a string so the second person could pull it back, haul it onto their shoulder, then climb up the shaft and distribute it.

  They found themselves scattering the earth on a layer already three feet high. The layer ran to the end of all four gaps between the containers. Any Vitaari guard flying above wouldn’t notice, but anyone on the ground who took a closer look couldn’t miss it. Cerrin and Sadi estimated it would reach at least six feet by the time they finished.

  The third problem was also connected to the horizontal section. Though willing, Sirras couldn’t stand the confined spaces and was also not strong enough to haul the bucket up the shaft. She had reluctantly given way to Kannalin’s cousin, Jersa, who had soon proven himself just as efficient and committed as the others. The two worked together, as did Cerrin and Sadi, with the final pair being the Palanians, Trantis and Erras.

  The three crews alternated times, never left or entered the block as a pair, and did everything they could to obscure
the footprints leading to the containers.

  Cerrin had always thought of the fourth problem as inevitable. However careful and organized they were, people were bound to notice. The inhabitants of Block A lived literally on top of each other. New arrivals always aroused curiosity, and familiar faces who started acting differently attracted suspicion. The simple fact that the same six people were going out for some time every night was unusual.

  Cerrin and Sadi did not agree on what to do about it.

  “We stop for a few nights. Three, maybe only two.”

  Cerrin shook her head. “Meanwhile, the tunnel just sits there? Covered by a bit of sheeting?”

  They were currently working close to each other. At the midday break, they had met close by a small pit used by the workers as a latrine.

  “If anything, we should be going faster,” she added. “Let’s get it done before we’re found out.”

  “Cerrin, don’t get carried away. We’ve done well, I agree, but we haven’t even talked about what we do when it’s finished. We can’t just crawl through and hope the Vitaari don’t notice. Especially if you’re still insisting on trying to get as many out as possible. We’ll need a way of keeping them occupied.”

  “Like what?”

  “You talked about burning this place to the ground. A fire or two would attract the Vitaari’s attention.”

  “Where?”

  “Generator station? The tower? The armory—take the shells out before they can get after us.”

  “How would we do it?”

  “We’d made some plans before. The fuel they store at the landing strip is very flammable. If we can get some of that in the right places and set it off—”

  “With the guards around? How?”

  “We’ll find a way. But let’s focus on tonight. Everyone’s exhausted anyway. One night off won’t make a difference.”

  Cerrin took a deep breath and thought about it.