She coughed and awoke on a dry throat in strange, cottony white surroundings. She couldn't feel her body. She couldn't move. Was she paralyzed? She didn't recognize the place, had no idea how or why she happened to be here.
She clearly remembered, however, how Kostas had admitted to being a clone. Sadness hollowed her insides. She had no hope of ever carrying his children or having any kind of fulfilling happiness or future with him.
A warm tear slid down the side of her temple. Then dizziness took hold of her and she spiraled back down toward the dream, the happy life with Kostas, the life she would never have but in her wildest fantasies.
* * *
After a week of forced labor and very little sleep, Kostas still hadn't found a way out past the enforcers. The settlers grew weaker, more despondent every passing day.
The bright high-tech lanterns suspended from hooks on the walls of the extraction tunnel barely penetrated the dense, gray cloud of stone dust. With pieces of cloth torn from their tunics and tied around nose and mouth, the settlers trudged in the thick haze, like ghosts, covered in thin powder that coated their skin, hair and eyebrows.
Ahead, the drilling engines rumbled, vibrating the entire mountainside. Workers selected promising chunks of shiny duranium ore. With sharp picks, they separated the rich ore from the broken rubble left by the drilling behemoths. Some threw the ore into antigravity tubs while others shoveled the useless stone debris into larger metal bins to be carted away.
Despite the dimness, Kostas saw something dark in the wall at knee level. A shadow? No. Something else.
The roaring vibrations of the behemoth drills following the rich metal veins forbade any conversation. Making sure no enforcers loitered close enough to observe them, Kostas motioned to Tabor and Cheng. Tom caught his gesture and nonchalantly lumbered in their direction.
Kostas led them to the small vertical fissure in the wall of the excavating trench. The men knelt to brush their fingers along the sharp edges of the hole. Only an inch wide and a few inches long, but fresh air flowed from it. The fissure probably communicated with some natural cave on the other side, or one of the tunnels striating the underground of the citadel.
The garrison officers nodded, understanding the implications.
Back in the slave quarters at the end of the shift, after showering off the dust of the day's work in tepid and smelly recycled water, Kostas sat with the three garrison officers on the rough stone benches. Facing each other, as the pattern of the benches allowed, they ate from wooden bowls, with wooden spoons, the tasteless green slop that came out of taps in the wall.
“Digging around the fissure with picks,” Kostas whispered around a mouthful of the green mush, “we could enlarge the hole enough to get through it.”
“And the surrounding noise would cover the activity,” Cheng said in an excited whisper.
“But how can we escape the enforcers' notice?” Tabor added, always the pessimist. “They watch from a distance, but they do watch.”
“Create a distraction?” Tom suggested, his red cap not as bright as it used to be, black dreadlocks almost gray from the dust.
“That won't be enough.” Kostas remembered his military training. “We'll need cover for the duration. Then we'll have to hide the hole and wait for the right time to make our escape.” He hoped Trixie would be well enough by then.
“But what if the cave on the other side is sealed?” Tabor raised a dark brow. “What if the tunnel is blocked and leads nowhere?”
“The fresh air flow indicates ventilation.” Kostas kept his voice low but confident. “So, it has to communicate with the surface.”
“What if the passage is too narrow?” Tabor smoothed his moustache.
“Maybe we can widen it with our picks?” Cheng this time.
“We'll just have to improvise.” That's what Kostas was good at. Improvising to survive hostile conditions.
“Sounds dangerous,” a settler who overheard said, scooting closer to the four garrison men.
“Would you prefer to die in this stinking hellhole?” Tabor said with surprising anger. “Within a month, you won't even be able to breathe.”
“I'd rather go out fighting,” the settler said with resolve. “I really want to get my hands on that traitor, McLure, and squeeze his neck. I saw him with the enforcers. He's the one who led them to us.”
“McLure?” Tom's eyes narrowed in his dark face. “The sonovabitch.”
“A traitor?” Tabor's voice carried venom. “In my tribe, we tie traitors to the trees and race past them on horseback, swords drawn, to cut them to pieces.”
“Damn!” Kostas wasn't overly surprised about McLure. Still, it stung to see how far the man would go to keep his privileges... or get rid of a clone.
The settler nodded. “I don't care if he's a genius. I always hated that man.” He motioned with his chin toward the other settlers dejectedly climbing the ladders to their sleeping bunks in the wall. “But I don't know if many of these people will have the energy to escape. They are in bad shape already.”
“What if only one of us disappears for a while?” A plan sprouted in Kostas' mind. “The enforcers don't check our numbers after each shift when we return to the dorm.”
The four men stared at Kostas in silence, waiting.
“I could go explore beyond the fissure,” Kostas went on. “Find the best escape route.”
“The enforcers won't notice one missing slave,” Cheng said pensively.
“That could work,” Tom added, his nod clinking the beads in his long hair.
“Then we have the start of a plan.” Kostas smiled. It felt good to have hope again.
Chapter Sixteen
In the days that followed, Kostas and his small group of officers organized the other garrison members from the two other shifts on that level. Together they took direction of the workers. They made sure a large debris bin always blocked the view of the small fissure, while someone hacked at it with a pick to make it larger... but not large enough for an enforcer to be tempted to get through if they happened to discover it.
Soon, the oval hole was just wide enough. Stealing one of the spare high-tech lanterns from an antigravity pallet, Kostas switched it on and ventured a look on the other side. As he suspected, it was a vast, natural hollow space.
From a crouching position, Kostas squeezed his shoulders through, headfirst. He emerged on a narrow ledge, toward the ceiling of a very large cavern. Pulling off his makeshift mask, he took a deep breath of clean air. It smelled a little moldy, but so much cleaner than the air in the mine, and devoid of stone dust.
He heard his friends on the other side of the rock wall, piling up rubble in front of the fissure. Holding the lantern aloft, to get maximum illumination, Kostas took his bearings. The cavern was enormous, with wide pillars, like inverted cones, jutting from the ceiling. He couldn't see the bottom. But he felt the air blowing at this level, so he went in search of what he hoped was a way out.
His perfect photographic memory helped him map the cave quickly. Within minutes, he'd detected the origin of the air flow, near the ceiling and to the side, away from the stalactites hanging downward. It looked like some kind of chimney... possibly natural, or maybe a ventilation shaft dug long ago for some specific purpose. In any case, the steep angle, almost vertical, made it an unlikely escape route.
Turning off the lamp, he could see no light coming from the hole. Was it night outside? Or did some debris partially obstruct the passage? He turned the lantern back on. While Kostas could manage to climb such a vertical shaft, he doubted the settlers could follow him that way.
He could feel the draft floating up the narrow exit. There had to be another passage, an intake tunnel from which the fresh air came. Noting the direction of the breeze, Kostas took heart. He'd learned from Trixie never to give up hope, so he kept searching every nook and cranny of the rugged cave.
Since the top rim only yielded the steep and narrow chimney, and the air flowed up to it,
he decided to explore the bottom. Finding a rockslide leading to the cave floor, he half-ran, half-slid down the rock and gravel. The irregular bottom of the cave made the footing treacherous. From there, he saw that stalactites and stalagmites had joined in the middle to form wide, hourglass shaped pillars. It would take time to inspect the entire cave, as the pillars cast heavy shadows that concealed the geologic features.
The distinct trickle of water echoed through the cave. An underground stream... possibly a spring. Kostas remembered the river that flowed at the bottom of the gorge bathing the cliffs below the citadel wall.
He also knew that despite the depths of the excavation, since the mine went deep under the mountain slopes, and the access shaft was located at the highest point of the citadel, the actual elevation of the cave floor might be close to the level of the plains. So, a southbound horizontal tunnel might well lead to the surface. He wished he had instruments to confirm it, but his utility belt was gone.
As a Space Marine, however, knowledgeable in all fields of planetary survival, Kostas welcomed the challenge. Confident in his abilities, he set out to find a path to freedom.
* * *
When Trixie realized she could move, she opened her eyes, blinking against the white glare of the room where she lay. In other hollowed bunks along the white walls, two other forms reposed, enveloped in some kind of cottony gauze, or was it something else? The fibers shone and seemed to twinkle with life in the bright light.
She looked at herself. She lay, naked upon such a white cocoon, but hers was wide open, and she had full range of movement. Feeling incredibly good and healthy, Trixie tested her strength by sitting up. She hadn't felt better in a very long time.
This place must be some kind of infirmary, but she couldn't remember why she would possibly need medical care, or where this facility was located. The faint vibration permeating the place, and the whirr of the air recycling units told her she might be on a ship.
The two other occupants of the strange medical ward were also women. Deep in some kind of coma, they didn't respond when she called to them. Had Trixie been unconscious... like them? How long?
Then she noticed the texture of the bulkheads, cold to the touch, like stone. She also detected the unmistakable trace of sulfur and faint dust in the air. Her good mood soured. Her sweet, comfortable dream had just turned into a nightmare.
She was inside the mine! Why would there be a hospital in the mine? To take care of the guards? But she wasn't a guard and saw none in the room.
With lead in her heart, Trixie lowered her feet to the cold stone floor. A set of black sweatpants and tee, a protective suit, shoes and breathing mask lay folded at the foot of her sleeping bunk. Definitely the mine. After donning the clothes, she walked out the swinging door, in search of Kostas and the settlers for whom she felt responsible.
Her first discovery made her pale with rage. The slave quarters, as Kostas had named them weeks ago, milled with bedraggled Human settlers. With no breathing masks, they wheezed from the dust in their lungs and wore no protective gear of any kind. Some didn't even wear shoes against the sharp, cutting rock. Such a contrast with the infirmary.
The Godds had betrayed their promise of fair treatment for all Humans. And although Trixie seemed to be treated well in comparison, her people suffered, and would surely die if they remained down here too long.
The men and women stared at her, some with surprise, others with hostility in their tired eyes. Many whispered and pointed at her. Guilt at wearing protective gear gnawed at Trixie's insides. One good soul offered her a bowl of green sludge that looked like pea soup. Trixie gagged just glancing at it and politely refused. She didn't need nourishment anyway.
Her people had been reduced to the most miserable state of slavery. But why treat her differently? Why had the Godds healed her in the strange white cocoon? Wraith! If they hoped she would overlook their betrayal because they favored her above the others... well, they were wrong.
“Where is Kostas?” she asked of a settler she recognized as a council member.
“Not here.” The man avoided looking at her, as if ashamed for her. “He lives in another dorm, further along the corridor, with other garrison volunteers.” The man came nearer and whispered in her ear. “They plan an escape.”
Trixie smiled under her mask. “Of course, Kostas would.”
She had no doubt he could get them out of there, too. But as she observed the misery of these people, she understood it would have to be very soon.
* * *
By the bright light of his high-tech lantern, Kostas followed the lava tube for about a klick, ignoring many intersections and smaller passages as he followed the strongest air flow. The sound of water he'd heard earlier steadily grew to a roar and echoed through the passages. Then he came upon a vast cave, and the source of the steady rumble. A waterfall!
White water fell from great heights, cascading over smooth boulders, and rushed down to churn into a deep pond. Then it flowed out at the far end, eroding a channel into the bedrock.
Knowing he wouldn't be missed in the mine, Kostas couldn't refuse the call. He set the bright lantern on a protruding boulder. Then he removed his dusty clothes and shook the grit out of them until they looked almost black again. Finally, he dove, naked, into the icy pond. He found the cold invigorating and let the rushing water massage his body and wash away dust and grime.
Since when did clones revel in the sensual experience of bonding with water? Was it the counterpart, or the reward of being able to feel pain? There seemed to be a connection. Of course, he had sharper senses than any man, but he'd never felt the need to indulge in pleasurable sensations before. He hadn't known pleasure... until Trixie. Somehow, meeting her had triggered a need for things he previously considered frivolous and distracting.
What was wrong with him? He couldn't figure out what could have caused the change. Was that the flaw for which the Kostas models had been recalled to be recycled into the biovats? Or had his DNA been altered by the transport beam that brought him to the mine?
Refreshed and energized, he climbed out of the frigid water onto the rock floor and dressed, then walked down along the turbulent stream. The spring thaw on the high slopes swelled it into a fierce torrent, foaming and rushing, splashing the rock on each side, and making it slippery. His sensitive nose could detect the fresh air from outside, the faint smell of green leaves and the sweet tease of pollen.
Unwilling to take chances, Kostas walked all the way to the wide opening, where the stream rushed into a river in a cascade of white water. He looked up, high above the rim of the looming gorge. The sight of the pink sky of dawn gave him hope. He was free. The large open caves and the network of tunnels would provide a perfect hiding place for the settlers. The depth under the rock, as well as the water sounds, would conceal all signs of Human occupation from spying satellites. With fresh water aplenty, this could become their new headquarters, their sanctuary.
The return trip seemed shorter and easier, despite the slight up slant of the slippery lava tube. Having mapped the route in his head, Kostas easily found the original cavern with its tall hourglass pillars. He climbed up the rockslide, all the way to the high ledge, and the enlarged fissure plugged with rubble.
Kostas set the lantern down by the hole. Then he dug out the obstruction. When he saw the dim light from the mine trench, he turned off the lantern and dug further. Grabbing hands from the other side reached for him, pulling him out, back into the mine trench. Then the settlers piled more stones to cover the hole behind him.
The shift working the excavation trench at that time was not his, but by now all the settlers on that level knew what was happening. While he worked alongside them, Kostas spread the good news through the ghostly crowd laboring and coughing in the cloud of stone dust.
When the sirens blared, announcing the end of the shift, he dutifully returned with them to their hub. Only after the enforcers had led the next team to the excavation trench and cleared
the corridors, did he stealthily headed for his designated quarters.
* * *
Trixie sat on the stone bench in the dimly lit slave quarters, with Tom, Cheng, Tabor, and a few council members. The others in that dorm slept, but that was not the only reason she kept her voice down. A guilty feeling at wearing protective gear persisted. She assumed the gear was linked to her convalescent state, although she didn't remember getting hurt and felt great.
“How are the settlers holding up?” she asked, her voice muffled by the filtering mask.
Before they could answer, she saw a change in their expression as they all stared toward the archway. Trixie turned around to see a tall, gray silhouette covered in stone dust, crossing the threshold. He looked like one of the many ghosts from the cloud, but as he approached, she recognized his confident stride, if not the face or the clothes.
She stared despite herself. “Kostas?”
He smiled as if he'd just left her a few minutes ago. “I see you are feeling better.”
She could only nod and stare. He glanced down at himself and brushed one arm, eliciting a small cloud of dust. Trixie couldn't help being angry at the Godds' betrayal. Even Kostas could not survive long while breathing such dense amounts of stone dust. It was an abomination.
“So, what did you find?” Tom asked, eagerness in his wide eyes, the diamond in his front tooth glinting dully as he smiled. “Is it good news?”
“Great news.” Kostas sat down and they all gathered close.
“How does the cave look?” Trixie asked. She'd learned from the others about their plan.
“It's big.” Kostas grinned. “And a wide lava tube leads all the way to the bottom of the gorge.”
Excited smiles flashed on the eager faces of officers and council members. Trixie could barely contain her excitement, and she couldn't tear her gaze away from Kostas.
Noah's Ark Page 20