“Simple, and readily available.” The same councilman nodded in appreciation.
Tabor winked. “Low tech, like the most reliable weapons.”
Kostas rejoiced that Tabor also championed the pursuit of low-tech weaponry. “Once in the gatehouse, I can use lines to lower the load. We should do the lowering at night, though.”
The councilman nodded again. “The last thing we want is give away the location of our sanctuary.”
Tabor raised a dark brow. “You really think we can get away with operating right under their noses?”
“If discovered, we are all dead,” a young man suggested.
“Or worse, back to the mine... with no hope,” a young woman mumbled.
“I can escape their scrutiny,” Kostas said with an assurance he didn't really feel. The operation was risky. “But if caught, be certain that I will never betray the sanctuary. I will die first.”
Tabor glanced away, toward the wide-open mouth of the cave, where shadows filled the deep gorge. “Well, it's late afternoon. Do you feel strong enough to attempt the ascent now?”
Kostas could sense the underlying rivalry in Tabor, like a living thing rearing its head. The man was pushing him into danger, possibly to get rid of him. To his own surprise, Kostas also felt the need to prove himself to Tabor. To show he was the better man. He struggled to analyze the situation objectively. His damned feelings were getting in the way. “Now is probably the best time to do it.”
Tabor gave orders, and the settlers fetched clumps of tall grass at the edge of the cave mouth. Then the women braided a wide camouflage head gear from which the green grasses jutted in clumps.
As Kostas secured the wide-brim helmet under his chin with the straps, he noticed the chuckles and the looks the settlers gave him. Well. He probably looked like an overgrown mushroom with a tuft on top, but he didn't care. There was no stupid camouflage, as long as it did the job.
Armed with the pick to help him climb the cliff, Kostas faced Tabor. “If I don't return, you'll have to continue the evacuation... and take care of Trixie.”
Tabor slapped his shoulder. “Knowing you, you'll come back the hero, and ruin any chance of me getting that little minx.”
“I'll certainly try my best.” Kostas kept his tone as light as Tabor's, but he was dead serious. He never joked about Trixie.
He waved to the group watching him leave then ventured alone out of the cave. He walked slowly along the river, under the stone lip of the cliff, until he stood directly under the main gate, then he attacked the cliff. The darn hat proved to be a hindrance, knocking against the wall, making his head heavy.
While his body strained against the unforgiving rock, Kostas had time to think. What would happen to the others if he were caught?
Above all, he hated the idea of Trixie paired with Tabor, but she could talk her way out of any unpalatable situation. And Tabor, no matter how possessive or wild, genuinely liked her and would protect her with his life.
Then a very unsettling idea crossed his mind. Was Tabor the dangerous possessive type of man women secretly desired, as Dolores suggested? Could Trixie prefer Tabor's wild spark over a dedicated but dull clone? That bothered Kostas more than his possible death.
Tightening his jaw, Kostas redoubled his climbing efforts. Soon he emerged from the deep shadowy gorge, into the golden light of the declining suns. Avoiding any jerky motion, he ascended steadily, making sure to remain under the overhang of the drawbridge platform, where satellites couldn't see.
Once he reached the underside of the platform, he simply went around it. Then he heaved himself onto the platform, where another challenge awaited him. The metal drawbridge stood upright, blocking the gate. He couldn't scale the smooth wall, or the metal plates. Thankfully, there was just enough space for him to squeeze between the metallic length of the raised drawbridge and the stone frame of the gate tower.
Wedging himself into the dark, narrow space between the metal bridge and the wall, he inched his way up the wall. Back against the plates, feet against the stone, he struggled, lowering his head so the wide brim hat would fit. Finally, he reached the top of the battlements and heaved himself upon the wall walk. He crouched there for a while, immobile, careful to remain under his camouflage. Then, moving slowly as not to reveal his simple disguise, he reached the entrance to the guard house.
He pushed open the door, just enough to squeeze inside with his wide hat at an angle. Then he closed the door behind him and let out a sigh of relief. He was home. He snatched the bulky straw hat off his head and threw it across the room onto a bunk.
A loud Meow resounded in protest at his disturbing incursion. A yellow fur ball leapt off the upper bunk toward him.
Kostas chuckled. “Hey, buddy.”
Viking came to him and rubbed its large yellow head against his boots, purring like a kitten.
Kostas crouched and picked him up, scratching the furry creature under the chin. “Did you miss me, boy? You are getting heavier. You must have hunted lots of juicy rodents.”
It was barely sunset. Kostas would have to wait until complete darkness to initiate the second phase of his operation. That gave him time to change clothes, eat a ration, and gather the food, weapons, and equipment. He would lower the supplies to the sanctuary into manageable loads.
As night closed upon him, unwilling to light a lamp no matter how small, Kostas donned a pair of night goggles and went on packing... with Viking's help. The cat, in a euphoric mood, jumped on and off things, chasing imaginary prey, pouncing at the food wrappings, playing peek-a-boo in and out of bags and blankets, and all around slowing him down. But Kostas enjoyed the distraction.
His mind kept returning to Trixie. He hoped she was all right. It wouldn't be long now before she could join the escapees, but she requested to be among the last group to leave, and the last ditch would be the riskiest operation of all.
When all his loads were packed, Kostas set a metallic line into the pulley embedded to the top of the stone window frame. Then he started lowering the first bag of rations, slowly along the wall, careful not to bounce it against the stone.
When his night goggles and the slack of the line told him the load had reached the bottom of the gorge, he pushed the remote that operated the trap lever, then rewound the wire line. He wished he had help down below, but he lacked trained operatives, and if detected, any body heat so close to the sanctuary would compromise the operation and the fate of the settlers. He couldn't risk it.
He repeated the same process with containers of food rations, cases of weapons, bundles of swords swathed in blankets, and all the small equipment they would need to survive, including oil lamps, torches, and flint. One after the other, the loads piled upon each other at the bottom of the gorge.
Then came the time for him to ride the last load.
As if he understood Kostas was leaving, Viking mewed pitifully and climbed on his boots, clawing at his cargo pants.
“What? You want to come with me?”
The cat mewed louder, as if in agreement.
Kostas lifted the fat, yellow cat to his chest. “I guess you could find food in the caves just as well as here. But you'll have to be careful out there. I'm pretty sure Zerkers do eat cats.”
Viking didn't seem to mind.
“All right, then.” Kostas gently shoved the large cat inside his black bomber jacket and zipped it up, Viking purred against his chest and settled into the warm nest.
Shaking his head at the incongruity of the situation, Kostas balanced himself on the windowsill, grabbed the handle underneath the last and largest load with one hand, the remote with the other hand, and leapt out the window. Dangling over the abyss, with the remote, he controlled the speed of the descent. The load above his head shielded his body heat from satellite detection.
Inside his jacket, Viking still purred like a kitten.
When his feet neared the top of the pile at the bottom of the gorge, Kostas stopped the descent, dropped, and dove u
nder the overhang shadowing the foot path along the river. Remotely, he guided the last load to the ground. Then he pushed the key to free the cable from its tether in the gatehouse. He backed away to avoid the long, skinny snake of a rope that fell like a whip to the canyon floor.
Only after the whole length of cable lay on top of the pile did Kostas deem it safe to release the cat. As soon as he unzipped his jacket, Viking pounced off and ran toward the cave, as if he knew the place. Kostas grabbed the closest load and, keeping under the natural stone ridge shadowing the river path, he carried it toward the cave mouth. Now he could bring others and show them how to carry the loot to the sanctuary, unseen by the satellites.
* * *
Two days later, protected by her suit and mask, Trixie walked among the settlers toward the hellish extraction trench to help with the hard work. They were all that was left of the work force. In the light of diminishing numbers, the enforcers had put her to the task. The mighty black armored guards standing in double rows along the corridor made sure the laborers followed the arrows on the floor. She feared the remaining settlers wouldn't last long, and escaping the attention of the enforcers seemed unlikely.
The last remaining two hundred workers shuffled alongside her. Roughly the same number of black-armored enforcers watched them with hard, attentive eyes, hissing and barking among themselves. No doubt they were frustrated. Their simple, linear minds could not grasp the mystery of the settlers' disappearance.
Although Trixie did see the humor in the situation, she couldn't laugh or even smile. Too much was at stake. The settlers, overworked to exhaustion, drudged heavily, backs bent, unsteady on their legs, ready to collapse. They wouldn't last another extended shift.
Wraith! That meant that if Kostas wasn't waiting for them at the excavation site, Trixie would have to initiate the last-ditch plan on her own. And if she wanted these people to be able to walk to freedom on their own two feet, she'd have to do it at the start of the shift, before exhaustion set in. Covering their tracks would be difficult, but it was imperative, for the sake of all the settlers.
She wished Kostas were here, but she hadn't seen him in many hours. He had shuttled so many groups and worked all shifts with almost no sleep. The last time he'd visited the slave quarters, he'd explained the plan to her, just in case things got so bad that it couldn't wait for his return. And now, the situation was desperate.
Trixie shoved her hands into the deep pockets of her protective suit and felt for the three grenades Kostas had given her when he'd explained how the plan would work. That's all he could smuggle past the enforcers at the front line, and it didn't leave any margin for error.
The story Kostas told her about Dolores, now queen of the Zerkers, seemed outlandish at best. Military clones, however, did not lie to their team. It would feel strange to negotiate with Dolores and her new people. Trixie couldn't believe all of the women abducted by Zerkers enjoyed their captivity, as suggested. She planned to talk to each of them in private, and personally give them a choice.
As soon as they reached the trench, Trixie realized Kostas wasn't there. It meant she had to lead the last-ditch escape alone. Cheng and Tom had already joined the escapees to teach the settlers to defend themselves. So, Trixie gave the signal to the few garrison volunteers still in the work force that the game was afoot.
Inconspicuously, in the cloud of gray dust, they rearranged the large bins containing the stone debris, as to form a wall between the enforcers guarding the trench exit, and the deep end of the trench where the workers labored. Then they switched off the antigravity function, letting the heavy bins rest on the stone floor, subtly providing a wall of protection against the explosions to come.
Meanwhile, the word that the time had come had spread among the settlers. Trixie could see that behind the bin concealing the escape fissure, they had already cleared the rubble and started the evacuation. Their orders were to wait at the bottom of the cave. Only the garrison volunteers were visible to the enforcers, working nonchalantly, with little enthusiasm, patiently awaiting the signal that the others had left through the fissure.
When the noise of the picks had diminished so much that it became noticeable, the enforcers at the entrance of the trench glanced at each other nervously. Trixie had to act now.
One of the garrison volunteers gave her the signal that only a few remained in the dust cloud. Trixie wiped her brow over her breathing mask, meaning she understood. Then she gestured for the volunteers to hurry out.
As one, the remaining workers scrambled toward the fissure, while Trixie ducked behind the protection of a large debris bin. The enforcers advanced quickly toward her. Trixie activated and threw the first grenade in a high arc over the bin and crouched.
The device exploded in a shower of fire, shaking the trench. Stone fragments dropped from the ceiling. Emergency sirens blared. Around the corner of the bin, she could see the closest enforcers burning like torches. Others were down and covered in rubble, but a few still ran toward her.
Trixie threw the second grenade and ducked.
The conflagration cracked like thunder. All around Trixie, the tunnel was breaking up. Smoke mixed with dust. Small equipment flew off. Chunks detached themselves from the walls. She prayed the collapse wouldn't clog the fissure.
“Out!” she yelled through her mask, hoping whoever was still in the trench would hurry.
Apparently, the last settlers had squeezed through the hole. Trixie ran toward it, happy that the far end of the tunnel had collapsed upon the enforcers, except for one black armored clone, now separated from his friends but still coming straight for Trixie.
Aware of the cold sweat dripping down her spine, Trixie fished her last grenade then plunged feet first through the fissure, activating and throwing the device in the enforcer's path, just before she withdrew into the cave.
But there was no escaping the explosion. So close to their exit hole, it rocked the entire cavern. Stalactites fell from the ceiling, crashing to the floor below in a thundering roar. Then other explosions reached their ears, echoing like a chain reaction against the stone and shaking pillars and walls. Gas pockets? The power-packs of the antigravity bins?
It didn't matter. All that mattered was that the excavation trench had collapsed, burying the enforcers and all traces of the work force, effectively masking their retreat. The Godds would have to assume they all died in an accident.
Then another explosion, much larger than the others, made the underground shudder like a mighty earthquake, and all went dark.
Chapter Eighteen
The roar subsided and the shaking stopped. Silence set in. Trixie still couldn't see a thing. Pitch black took on new meaning. Somewhere in the blackness, she heard frightened whimpers, and a gurgle of water. The echo, however, prevented her from pinpointing the direction.
Trixie sat up, careful to remain in the same spot, for fear of falling off the narrow ledge where she knew she'd emerged from the fissure. With trembling hands, she pushed back her hood and pulled down her mask. She took a tentative breath of moist air. Her entire body shook from the adrenalin flooding her system. But she was alive, and apparently whole.
She called to the settlers down below. “Everyone okay down there?”
“Scrapes and bruises, that's probably all, but it's hard to tell,” a breathless male voice echoed through the cavern. “What happened to the lights? We can't turn the lanterns back on.”
“None of them?” Trixie heard the rattling of lanterns below.
“Nope. No dice.”
Wraith! “Probably an EMP wave from that last explosion,” she called as calmly as she could. “Must have been the main power source of the extraction engine that blew up.”
In the solid blackness, Trixie remained seated and felt around her on the floor, sweeping and reaching for the lantern that had previously lit her escape. Her hand bumped against it. The lamp skittered out of reach and fell off the edge. “Watch out! Incoming!”
Metal and glas
s crashed on the stone below... very far below. Maybe it was a blessing she couldn't see. She'd never been good with heights. She could manage the wide wall walk on the ramparts by always looking far away, never straight down. But this narrow ledge wouldn't offer that luxury.
“Sorry about that.” Having located the drop edge, Trixie scooted in the opposite direction and quickly found the cave wall. She felt for the fissure through which they'd entered the cave. Instead, she found a smooth sheet of stone she didn't remember from before, probably dropped in the partial collapse of the cave wall. She rose and felt farther, right and left, and only found a solid wall.
“I think we are safe from the enforcers,” she said in the echoing cave. “No one will come after us from the mine. It looks like the fissure is completely sealed.”
She heard a collective sigh of relief from the cave floor. Trixie welled with pride at having accomplished her mission. But they were stuck here, in total darkness. She couldn't even start along the path Kostas had described. She knew it led to the rockslide and the cavern floor, but without eyes she'd break her neck.
“Now we just have to wait.” She leaned back against the smooth wall. “The others must have felt the explosions. I'm sure they're already on their way here to guide us to the sanctuary.”
She hoped at least Kostas would have heard.
* * *
“By the Halls of Montezuma!” Kostas couldn't believe Trixie had initiated the last-ditch operation without him. What was she thinking? “Tabor! Tom! Cheng! Grab your weapons and get your ass in gear. You're with me.”
Kostas turned to the settlers in the crowded sanctuary cave. “Garrison volunteers, arm yourselves and get ready like we showed you, just in case enforcers made it inside the tunnels.”
Grave faces, illuminated by the sanctuary lamps, nodded and the settlers sprang into action, taking places, spacing themselves, taking shelter or shooting positions.
Noah's Ark Page 22