by J. N. Chaney
“How convenient for you. Tell me, what color were Monty’s sister’s eyes?”
There was a brief pause. Ozzie looked at me as if I was going to give support, or maybe I could call off the bitch sawing away at his fingers. “Told you,” I said.
“Her eyes were brown,” Ozzie said.
Rachel clucked her tongue. “Dammit, Ozzie. Wrong answer.”
“Blue!” He said. But Rachel added more pressure to the sword’s blade.
“And what about my sister’s… what was her name again?”
“I don’t know!” Ozzie cried. I could see his hand shaking. Blood was cascading down his arm. In all honesty, I had no idea how he was holding on. Hells, I had no idea how I was still holding on! Rachel really needed to wrap this up. But there was no way I was going to say that to her.
“Elizabeth,” Rachel said. The deck shook as if emphasizing the intensity of her voice. “Her name was Elizabeth. And do you remember her eye color?”
“Hazel,” Ozzie said, his voice thick with desperation.
“Wrong again, Oswald.” Rachel leaned down as far as she could and spoke in a soft, almost angelic voice despite the growing commotion in the mountain. “Here eyes were gold. The same as every woman’s you raped. But how would you know? You were never worthy enough to see their treasure.” And with that, Rachel severed Ozzie’s middle finger.
Unable to support his massive body weight with just his thumb and index finger, Ozzie’s maimed hand slipped off the cable. For a split second, his body was frozen in midair, face looking up at Rachel in abject horror. But Rachel only stared back with grim satisfaction. She’d just ended the life of one of the galaxy’s worst human scourges—and I didn’t blame her one bit for the pleasure that wreathed her face.
Ozzie screamed as he fell away from us, body leaning back into the wind. He grew smaller and smaller as the quarry seemed to expand, eager to consume his body. But the quarry wasn’t expanding…
Something was emerging from it.
With the explosive force of a bomb, the ground blew apart, shooting rock and debris in all directions. There, lunging from the deep, was the giant maw of a great worm. Its flaps opened wide, revealing countless rows of rotating teeth that spiraled down to a black hole. The creature gave a blast that—for a second—seemed as if it might blow Ozzie’s body into the stratosphere. The sound was deafening, nearly ripping my grip off the cable. But I felt Rachel’s hands lock around my wrists and hold me fast.
The worm continued to surge out of the ground, rising toward us. I watched Ozzie’s body strike one row of teeth and then flip into a wild spin. He bounced further into the worm’s maw until he was caught in the gyrating columns of teeth. Suddenly, a red burst swirled in the worm’s enormous mouth as the rapist’s body was torn apart.
The worm continued to rise, however, coming so high that I thought Rachel and I might be next. But the beast slowed, reaching its zenith, and then rested as if suspended in midair. The moment passed, and a whoosh of air rushed up as the monster sailed back toward the ground, body extended. It landed across the quarry with an explosion of rock and dust that blasted out, momentarily obscuring the worm from view. While the specimens I’d seen in the myst mine were massive, this particular worm seemed two or three times as large as those.
“Come on, Flint!” Rachel yelled. “Work with me here!”
She pulled on my arms, heaving me toward the next cable. I grabbed it, and then reached for the next one until I’d gained the railing. Rachel grabbed me by my belt and yanked me over the top, causing me to collapse with her on the glass-covered deck.
The worm’s tremors still vibrated through the structure, but not as violent as before. I heard it give out another moan as the sound of movement echoed up from below. It was on the move.
Rachel and I stood together and looked over the railing. Through the dust, we could see the giant monster slinking out of its hole and moving down the mountain.
“Well, he’s in a hurry,” I said.
“Then I think we should be too.”
26
I found the artifact in a display case in Ozzie’s office—the device had been there when we’d first arrived, and I never even noticed it. A locked safe would have seemed like a more appropriate place to keep it, but then again, Ozzie was the sort who liked to show off his conquests.
I carried the artifact toward Ozzie’s desk and stepped over Ino’s corpse. His business suit had several deep gashes running through it, presumably from the antique sword Rachel had found. While I obviously hadn’t seen the final exchange, I recognized the aftermath.
“You did pretty good with that thing,” I said, nodding to the sword she still carried in her hand.
“Every knight needs a capable page,” she replied. Then she thrust out a hip and put a finger on her lower lip, tapping it. “No, not a page. And not a princess either. Maybe I was more like a dark mage back there…”
“A dark what?”
“…Or maybe a mage goddess…”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Says everyone who doesn’t take the time to read.”
“Hey! I read.”
Rachel rolled her eyes at me. “Sure you do.”
Once at the desk, I tucked the artifact in the backpack that Ozzie had been using to collect some of his personal items, but Rachel took the pack from me.
“You’re hurt,” she said, eyeing my pelvis. “Here, let me carry it.” After slinging the pack over her shoulders, she knelt and gave my hip a quick glance to make sure my exosuit was doing its job to contain the bleeding. She seemed satisfied, but I knew I was going to need proper medical attention soon. “It’ll do for now, but we need to get you back to the ship.”
Another vibration shook the office as if to emphasize her point. We ran out of Ozzie’s office, through the waiting room, and into the hallway. I tried to remember the route we’d come with Ino when we first arrived, but I was having trouble gathering the directions. Fortunately, Rachel was on it, having just come this way. Plus, I had no doubt Lars was eager to contribute to our escape.
“Those worms damage our rockets, Lars?” I asked, wincing as I ran behind Rachel.
“Negative, sir. While the majority of the mine’s core operation has experienced significant damage, the starship silos, as well as the Horizon’s docking bay, have been minimally impacted.”
“And let’s hope it stays that way,” I said.
Just then, another quake jarred the hallway and threw Rachel and me to the wall. My head smacked it hard enough that I saw stars. We both stumbled forward but managed to keep our feet under us. “Remind me to wear a helmet on our next expedition,” I said to Rachel.
“No problem. I have one in pink that’s just your size.”
“Perfect.”
“Taking the elevator is going to be too risky,” Rachel said. “We’re taking the stairs.”
“Of course we are,” I said.
“It’s our thing,” added Lars.
Rachel glanced back at me. “Your thing?” she whispered.
“Never mind,” I said. “Lead on.”
We descended as fast as we could, taking the steps two and three at a time. My side was screaming in protest, but I wasn’t about to slow for it now. Lars would have plenty of time to probe me once we got back on the Horizon.
“Where’s Victor?” I asked Lars.
“Victor and Deloris are presently in geosynchronous orbit directly over our position, as per my instructions to him.”
“So can you launch the starships?”
“Indeed, sir. The vessels are sealed and have passed all systems checks for launch.”
“Do it,” I said. “Send ’em up.”
“As you wish, sir.” Then to both of us, Lars added, “On the next level, exit the stairwell and turn left.”
“On it,” Rachel said, gripping the railing and using it to swing around to the door. She burst through it and into a corridor that looked less office-building and mor
e industrial. We must have been in the mine’s operations section.
“How far is the ship from here?” I asked Rachel.
“Far enough that we need one of those,” she said, pointing to a small hover skiff near the mouth of a massive tunnel.
“I’ll drive,” I said.
“Like hells you will,” she replied, sliding into the pilot’s seat. “This one’s reserved for mage goddesses.”
“Are they super pushy?”
“Only when they have unruly subjects who won’t shut up and climb in the back.”
Being a one-passenger utilitarian skiff, I was forced to hop up onto the cart’s bed, landing amongst the several toolboxes. I shoved them off the edge to make more room for myself. As soon as I did, another tremor dislodged a huge chunk of the ceiling. The block of concrete and rebar smashed into the floor three meters away, showering me with bits of rock.
“Go, go, go!” I yelled at Rachel. I looked up to see another boulder-sized rock careening toward us.
The skiff whined and then shot forward, it’s pure in-line acceleration threatening to throw me off the rear. I grabbed a handle on the side of the bed and managed to keep myself from joining the tossed toolboxes.
I secured myself and then looked over Rachel’s shoulder. “Watch out!” I said.
“I see them!”
More blocks of concrete fell ahead of us, slamming into the ground and striking the skiff with shrapnel. Rachel veered to the left, and then back to the right, throwing me around in the bed. I rolled side to side, trying to keep from falling off.
“Next time, I’m driving!” I said over the sounds of exploding concrete. While the hover skiff was immune to the vibrations, the tunnel wasn’t. The destruction increased as we went with more of the tunnel collapsing all around us.
“We need to go faster!” I said.
“You really are the worst, you know that?”
Despite my nagging, Rachel was doing just as well as I would have. Maybe better, given my condition. But I’d never say as much. She swerved to avoid a vehicle-size block of stone, then swerved again to shoot under a fallen truss. We banged into a utility cart and then burst through a cluster of wooden crates, all in our mad dash to get out of this death trap.
“Watch out!” I said, pointing over her shoulder.
Rachel batted my hand out of her vision then reached for the control panel with one hand while she controlled the yolk with the other. A tunnel-wide girder had fallen, leaving only a two-meter gap beneath it. There was no way we were going to make it under.
But Rachel increased the power, driving our sled faster.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
“Shut up!”
I stared at the girder, quickly calculating that the beam was level with our bodies. There was no ducking this. What was she thinking?
As soon as the skiff reached top speed, indicated by a smooth female voice that said, “Maximum velocity achieved,” Rachel punched an icon on the dashboard and killed the undercarriage repulsors. Suddenly, the skiff dropped out from beneath us, pulling us with it. We hit the ground with a jerk, jarring my head and neck. Sparks erupted behind me as the sound of metal grinding against stone produced a terrifying shriek.
I watched as the girder passed overhead, narrowly missing Rachel’s forehead. As soon as we were clear, Rachel diverted power back to the repulsors and the skiff popped off the ground, slamming my head into the bed.
“Godsdammit, Rachel!”
“You’re welcome!”
The tunnel continued to decompose right before my eyes. But I saw a light up ahead, indicating what I hoped was the end of this breakneck skiff ride.
“At the intersection ahead, please turn left,” Lars said as calmly as if he were a tour guide identifying a point of interest.
“’Cause this is the end, right?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, sir. No,” Lars replied. “You are precisely halfway to the Horizon’s docking station.”
“Halfway?”
“Brace yourself!” Rachel ordered.
“Against what?” I grabbed the one handle with both hands, feeling us accelerating up toward the maximum velocity range again. “Normal people slow down for tight turns, Rach!”
“If you haven’t noticed,” she replied, grabbing the yolk with both hands again, “I’m not normal.”
I shouted something back at her, but it was lost in the scream of the skiff’s drive core as the vehicle banked left. The repulsors fought to keep the sled on track, but it skewed sideways, sliding over the ground with a groan. I watched as the left handle tunnel grew larger…
As was the tunnel’s right-hand wall!
We were going to crash.
“Lean!” Rachel yelled, throwing her body to the left. I didn’t think twice and joined her efforts despite the pain it sent through my hip and hands. The skiff rolled to the left just as we met the tunnel’s curved wall. But instead of striking it, we rode up the side, shooting out like a spaceball toss that had gone wide and rolled around the area’s far edge.
I held the handle for dear life as the skiff continued along the tunnel’s right wall. Eight meters below me, concrete debris whizzed by. Just then, a jagged tooth of rock burst out of the wall, threatening to severely impede our forward progress. Rachel yanked on the yolk and sent the skiff sideways, powering in the direction of gravity. The vehicle slid through the air but eventually actualized the pilot’s command. I lurched back toward the rear as we skirted the obstruction, and then slammed hard on the tunnel’s floor once again. But the force jounced me into the air and off the bed.
I was still holding the handle when my boots struck the ground beneath us. Our speed caused my feet to kick up behind us, but it wasn’t enough to throw me back onto the bed. Instead, I kept skittering off the ground, never able to get up, and never able to settle my feet on the ground.
“Rachel!”
As if to emphasize my predicament, Lars added, “Miss Fontaine, it seems as if you’re about to lose Mr. Reed. I recommend—”
“What the hells, Flint?” Rachel asked, looking over her shoulder. She immediately put on the brakes and caused my upper chest to slam into the bed’s edge nearly cutting off my head. “Climb back in and stay in!”
A stone exploded a meter behind me, peppering me with loose bits. “GO!”
Rachel punched the throttle and we were off again, heading toward what I hoped was the last light at the end of the tunnel. “Please tell me that’s our stop!” I said to either Rachel or Lars.
“It is,” said the AI. “Please prepare to disembark.”
“Disembark, yes. I’m so ready to disembark.”
The worm quake wasn’t done with us, however. Just as I thought Rachel was going to slow, a tunnel wide section of concrete and rebar left the ceiling. For the briefest moment, I figured we’d scoot underneath like Rachel had done before. I figured the universe owed us that much. But, oh no. The universe wanted to screw us, over and over again.
The words “We’re not gonna make it!” were potentially the last I would ever say. Rachel didn’t even have time to brake. Instead, the debris created an impassable barrier that caught the nose of our skiff. The front crumpled into the concrete wall, forcing the skiff’s rear up and over us. The force flung me from the bed and jettisoned Rachel from the pilot’s seat a split second after I catapulted over her.
Together, we flew headlong over the obstruction, down the tunnel, and out the mouth into daylight—all before our bodies slammed into the ground and slid to a stop.
I was pretty sure I’d broken something. Lots of somethings. And based on the way Rachel was moaning, I’d say she wasn’t much better.
“Rachel?” I asked, feeling the ground shake beneath me. “Rachel, can you move?”
27
“Rachel, can you hear me?” I asked.
“The better question is, do I want to,” she replied.
“Yes,” I said. “You most definitely do. There’s the ship!�
� Looking up from my backside, I could see the Horizon’s engine cones sticking off a ledge about ten stories straight above us. It hugged a control tower that was itself connected to the canyon’s wall. “Lars, prep the ship for vertical takeoff. We’re not gonna have time for a tour.”
“As you wish, sir.”
A warning klaxon echoed through the canyon, and lights started strobing. The platform slowly rotated so that the Horizon’s nose would eventually point skyward.
“On your feet, Miss Mason,” I said, pushing myself up and then helping Rachel stand. She cradled her left arm against her chest. I couldn’t be sure, but it almost looked like her arm was broken. Suddenly, her forearm flexed in the middle. Never mind, I knew for sure.
“Son of a bitch!” she said, taking my hand as I helped her stand. Agony was written all over her face.
“We need to get up the launch tower.” I looked at the backpack with the artifact in it. “Need me to carry that?”
“I’m fine,” Rachel replied. “Let’s just get out of here.”
Aside from more stair climbing and growing vibrations from the damn worms, Rachel and I ascended the tower without incident. When we emerged onto the platform, however, the worm quakes were growing stronger.
“Sir,” said Lars, “I advise you and Miss Fontaine to move more quickly.”
“Dammit, pal, what do you think we’re trying to do here?”
“The drive core in the buried starship appears to be reaching critical mass, and the worms are increasingly restless. I detect several dozen distancing themselves from the pending neutron explosion.”
“Weird,” I said, grabbing Rachel’s shoulder as she lost her footing. “That all seems like new information to me.”
“That is odd, as you say, especially since the seismic activity is reaching—wait a moment. You are being sarcastic again, aren’t you, sir.”
“What’da ya know,” I said to Rachel, “the AI can be taught.”
She gave me a pained smile.
The platform continued to tremble. The Horizon shuddered on the end of the docking platform. As we got closer, I noted that it was actually swaying. I also noticed a crew door slide open, which only made sense—using the loading ramp would have been impossible now that the ship was readied for vertical takeoff.