by Eyal Kless
A few seconds later he heard them scrambling to their feet and pushing their way after him. His skin crawled as he anticipated Ramm’s fist grabbing his shoulder from behind, but it didn’t happen. They followed Rafik in silence the entire way.
“What now?” Narona said when Rafik stopped.
“Give me the ball.” Rafik extended his hand and Ramm relinquished the rubber ball. It felt surprisingly heavy and cool to the touch.
Rafik placed the ball on the ground. After several heartbeats it began to glow and started to roll away, slowly at first but gaining momentum.
“Rust,” Kurk cursed as they all began following the moving ball. It reached a set of stairs and bounced down, making a loud knocking sound each time it hit another stair.
As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs an alarm sounded.
They froze and looked at each other. But the ball kept rolling.
“Lizards,” Narona said.
“The ball,” Rafik said. “We must follow it.”
“We should go back, take positions,” Kurk turned and began walking up the stairs.
“Keep moving,” Ramm ordered.
“Brain will look for us,” Kurk sputtered.
Ramm clapped Kurk on the back of the head hard enough to send him reeling to the opposite wall.
“Fuck Brain. There are enough Trolls out there to take down a few Lizards. Shut up and do as you’re told.”
They moved in silence after that.
At first the corridors were familiar, then vaguely so, and eventually they were completely alien. It was dark. Only Narona’s light beam and the glowing ball lit the way. The air was murky and stale, it was hard to breathe, and there was no sound. They had their weapons drawn and were fully alert, but no threat materialized.
After a long while they reached a hall lined with a dozen Tarakan steel doors. All of them were locked except the one the ball bounced against. The group exchanged meaningful glances. Rafik understood they were already planning to come back and do some exploring in this area.
After several more corridors, the ball bounced, almost impatiently, against a wide door. When they got closer the door slid sideways to reveal a small, narrow chamber that was so well lit it momentarily blinded them. The ball bounced merrily inside. They followed, and when they were all inside, the door slid closed, trapping them.
“Rust,” Kurk cursed.
“Hold it together. Bukra’s balls, you’re jumpy.” Narona spotted an oblong power tube on the floor and picked it up. “It’s fully charged,” she said.
“There’s a slot for it here, see?” Rafik pointed at a socket-like depression on a panel.
As soon as the power tube was placed in the socket, the room began to move sideways, like the Long Tube. The acceleration was so smooth they never lost their balance, but Rafik felt his heart skip a beat.
“I’m going to kill that Comm bitch,” Ramm muttered, as the metal box they were in gained speed.
After a while the room began to slow down.
“Get ready, Keenans.” Ramm hefted his heavy cannon at the door. They pushed Rafik behind them and aimed all sorts of weaponry at the door. It slid open to reveal Vincha, smiling.
“Don’t you just love a warm welcome?” she said, spreading her hands wide. “Take the power tube out, or it’s going to be a long way back.”
They stepped out into a very large, dark chamber.
“Rust, Vincha, you should be glad I didn’t shoot you,” Ramm said, but he looked relieved.
“Relax,” Vincha said. “You still need me to get to the goodies.” She extended her hand. “Can I have my ball back now?” she said, looking at Rafik.
Rafik saw that her eyes were asking a different question. He handed her the ball and the power tube, and gave her the smallest nod. Her smile widened.
“It’s a nice little device you have there,” Kurk said acidly. He was the only one still aiming a pistol at Vincha. “I wonder where you got it from, eh?”
“I have two. I cut them off an annoying Troll. But relax—yours are too small to be of any use to me.”
Everyone laughed, but Kurk looked like he was going to pull the trigger.
“Keep your pet in check and follow me,” Vincha said to Ramm. She turned to go, and they followed her.
51
Vincha moved through the tunnels with familiarity, a fact that did not escape the other members of the group.
“Been here a lot, have you?” Kurk commented as they climbed another set of stairs.
“I try to find the places furthest away from your stench,” Vincha said.
“You b—”
“Stop it, you two!” Narona yelled.
“He has a point,” muttered Goll, the taller of the Troll brothers.
Vincha turned her head. “The good thing about being independent is that I don’t need to tell any rusting Troll where I am and what I’m doing.”
“I’m sure Brain would love to know there’s a secret way out of the compound.” Ramm didn’t bother to veil the threat.
Rafik could see Vincha’s smile to herself when she answered, “Who do you think showed me the way? Work your brain around that, Ramm.”
They emerged into a large hall with one side open to the glaring sun. A six-wheeled open Duster was parked in the shade, next to a large wooden crate.
Goll whooped. “How the hell did you get a Duster to this place?”
“I drove it myself.” Vincha opened the crate and began pulling out gear. “I brought these—headlights, power packs, Comm devices, rechargers—”
“These are in mint condition,” Deesha weighed two blasters in each of his hands. There was admiration in his voice.
“Just to be clear, I want all this gear back when we finish the job.” Vincha leaned down to Rafik. “This is for you,” she said as she attached a metal band to his head. “This will let you—”
Ramm grabbed her arm and flung her aside with such force that she landed on her back a few paces away with a heavy thump. She was quickly on her feet, pistol drawn. “What is your rusting—”
Ramm held his power cannon casually at his side. “You do not touch the Puzzler,” he said. “You do not talk to him. Rust, don’t let me catch you looking in his direction, because next time I’ll break your hand in three and take one piece as a souvenir.”
There was a tense pause. Vincha visibly forced herself to relax. “Fine,” she said, holstering her pistol, “but instead of ripping my arm off, next time try asking nicely first.”
“I don’t ask. And I’m the only one to communicate with my key.” Ramm fished out his own communication device from his pack and shoved the Comm piece so hard into Rafik’s ear that he yelped in pain.
“Don’t be a baby,” he said, scowling at the boy. “When I was your age I’d already been shot three times. Grow a pair.”
Kurk was the only one who laughed.
“Gear up and get into the Duster,” Ramm said. “Oh no you don’t,” he barked at Vincha before she reached the driver’s seat. “Goll drives.”
Vincha held her hands up. “Whatever, Ramm. Just get us there.”
Ramm sniffed some Skint, then passed the bag around. When it reached Vincha, she refused. But Ramm insisted. “Do it,” he said. “I want you nice and relaxed for this run.”
She fished some powder out and sniffed it deeply into each nostril. Her eyes glazed a little and then returned to focus. She jumped into the Duster. Rafik was helped into the backseat.
They drove off. Vincha sat next to Goll. Kurk stood at the back and aimed his gun in all directions, even firing at random buildings until he was ordered to stop.
They all wore goggles as protection from the dust and sand that hung in the air.
“Put on some music,” Ramm shouted at the wind.
“Yea, put on some of that drum shit, I like that!” Goll shouted above the roar of the engine.
Vincha nodded as locks of her red hair twitched and turned. Rafik’s ears were filled wi
th music he’d heard in the Chewing Hole. It was not the sublime music he’d shared together with Vincha but something much simpler, with repeated patterns, yet powerful nonetheless. It made him want to move his body to the rhythm, like the Trolls he saw in the Hole. The rest of the group were nodding their heads and tapping hands on their weapons. The thought came to him, and not for the first time, that the Tarkanians must have been strange creatures indeed.
They drove for a while. The area was completely still apart from an occasional dust devil. The buildings around them were large and wide, ten stories high, made of Tarakan steel and mostly intact. The buildings stood much farther apart from each other than in the parts of the Valley Rafik had seen. Perhaps there used to be gardens or parks between them, like Rafik had seen in the City of Towers, but as in the rest of the Valley, there were no plants or trees and the ground was covered with powdery yellow sand. Rafik tried to imagine people living in these great buildings, going about their daily lives. His thoughts went back to his own village. Images of his mum and dad, Fahid, his sisters, and Eithan. It seemed a long time had passed since he’d thought about them. He wondered if he would see them ever again and made peace with the thought that he probably wouldn’t.
The dust was getting into his goggles. He turned around and caught Vincha’s eye. She nodded her head ever so slightly. Rafik wondered what the CommWoman was up to. He also saw Kurk was staring at her back, eyes filled with venom. Blood would soon be spilled, and Rafik knew that soon he would have to choose sides. If he sided with Vincha he would be risking his life. But if he stayed with the Keenans he would be a pawn for the rest of his life, nothing more than a key. He thought of Pikok, fervently scratching the symbols of the Great Puzzle on every available surface. Would he end up like that?
The music pounded in his ears as they drove towards the rapidly waning sun. The crew was relaxed in their seats. Night was coming fast, and the Duster’s floodlights were already on.
Vincha signalled for them to stop in an open, empty area. She jumped off the Duster and walked away, looking at the screen on her arm bracelet. Gron trained the Duster’s floodlights on Vincha, and Rafik saw Kurk changing position so his power rifle could be easily aimed at the receding CommWoman’s back.
Vincha stopped and fished a small screen from her belt, tapping on it with her fingers.
Kurk stood up, aiming his power rifle. “What is—”
“Shut your rusting hole and sit down,” Narona said sharply, “and don’t speak unless spoken to, whoa—” She broke her own sentence in surprise as a multitude of white and green rays shot from the ground to the sky.
Vincha turned and walked slowly back to the Duster, a smile on her face as the ground behind her began to move.
The Keenans watched as a huge dark metal building emerged silently from the ground.
“That is—” Goll began, shaking his head.
“—pretty damn impressive,” Vincha completed the sentence, hopping back on the Duster. “Look at the Tarakan metal—not a dent on it, or rust. Makes you wonder how they lost the war, eh?”
When the bunker stopped moving it reached at least five stories high, dwarfing the Duster. It featured the largest double doors Rafik had ever seen.
Ramm turned to Rafik. “Time for you to work, key.”
“Oh, but that’s not the node’s puzzle lock,” Vincha said, just as the double doors began sliding open. “This is just the entrance. Think what’s waiting inside.”
The Keenans whooped and cheered. Vincha turned off the music and told Goll to drive to the bunker’s entrance. The world suddenly went quiet.
When the Duster drove through the entrance the entire place lit up.
“Look.” Deesha pointed. “This looks like a vehicle power-charging station. Burka’s balls, this place is awesome.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if we found a SuperTruck here,” Goll said.
The wide road went underground immediately, and they circled through three large but empty levels until Vincha told Goll to stop. Rafik felt a surge of excitement as they disembarked. Everyone was looking around with a mixture of awe and suspicion. Only Vincha seemed relaxed. She led everyone down a wide flight of stairs. Parts of the corridors lit themselves up as they passed through, then darkened again behind them.
It was not long before they reached the first puzzle-locked door. Rafik was surprised at the ease with which he found the pattern—it took him only a few seconds—but the door only led to another set of corridors and another puzzle lock. This time it was more complex. Just before Rafik completed the last strain of the puzzle he felt something odd, which made him pause and look around. For a brief moment he felt as if he was not only facing a puzzle wall but was surrounded by it. He quickly slammed the last strain of the puzzle into place and woke up with a start, which made the Keenan crew jumpy.
“What is it, key boy?” Kurk said.
“Nothing.”
Kurk sneered. “Weakling.”
Vincha caught Rafik’s eye again. The look she gave him was almost pleading, but he didn’t reassure her.
The third puzzle lock was easy, and the doors opened to a large, dark, and oddly familiar underground cave. The Keenans turned their headlights on and readied their weapons. The cave’s floor and walls were natural and uneven, a vast contrast to the perfection of the Tarakan-made corridors and halls. There was a large pool of water in the centre of it.
“What is this place?” Goll readied his power blaster as he surveyed their surroundings.
“Beats me, I just know the way in.” Vincha pointed at the last door. “The node’s heart is just over there.”
Rafik saw Ramm exchanging a look and a nod with Kurk behind Vincha’s back. The young Troll smiled and raised his weapon. Everything happened at once. Rafik opened his mouth to warn Vincha as Kurk shouldered the rifle and aimed it straight at her back. The rest of the crew paused, looking uncertainly at Ramm. Narona opened her mouth as if to say something, but then her eyes widened and she flung herself aside. Something rolled between them and exploded in a blinding light just as Kurk pulled the trigger. There was a smell of burning flesh and a scream. The rest was just a series of images flashing in a blur before Rafik’s eyes. He saw Goll’s head exploding in a cloud of red goo. Deesha spun around and tried to shoot, but his guns didn’t respond. He threw them to the ground and tried to reach his other blaster, but a masked figure holding a glowing sword appeared from behind him. The sword made two side-to-side swoops; the first one sliced the Troll in half, and the second cut off his head before his upper body even hit the ground. Ramm was shooting into the darkness with a hand blaster and swinging his cannon from side to side, looking for a target. Kurk aimed his rifle again, but then he suddenly burst into flames. His screams echoed and multiplied in the large cavern. Then there was another deafening blast. Rafik saw Narona’s body sailing through the air and heard a splash of water. A body slammed him into the ground and he was overwhelmed by the stench of burning flesh. He tried to scream, but someone put a hand over his mouth. Ramm’s cannon discharged and Rafik felt the heat as the ray of white death flashed above his head. A moment later he was picked up and carried by powerful arms. He tried to kick and move, but whoever carried him didn’t slow down. Then everything went black.
Next thing he knew he was at the other side of the cave, still grasped by the same powerful arms. He saw Vincha being held in a choke hold by a very large man dressed in black power armour. Weaponless, she struggled in vain as a cloaked figure, holding a man-sized staff, approached. He raised the staff and a blade sprang out of it. With one powerful sweep the cloaked figure tore the combat protection gear and clothing off her upper body. Rafik briefly saw Vincha’s exposed middle and the bottoms of her breasts.
She tried to kick, but the cloaked figure moved calmly aside and she hit nothing but air. He bent down and touched Vincha’s middle with a clawed hand. Vincha hurled curses as she struggled, but then the figure must have done or said something because sh
e suddenly stopped struggling.
The cloaked figure turned and moved towards Rafik. His face was hidden in a cowl. The boy could hear the tapping of the staff on the cave’s floor and felt a surge of complete and utter terror with each step the cloaked figure took. When the figure stood over Rafik, the boy smelled rotting flesh and heard a hissing, gurgling noise come out from within the darkness of the cowl.
“Puzzler . . .” the figure throated the word out the darkness of his garb.
Rafik knew what was about to happen. He felt his mouth go dry and his heart started to flutter.
Gnarled, clawlike hands grasped at the hem of the cowl. The face that Rafik then saw was the one from his nightmares.
He recognised the disfigured man, but his dreams had shown him only the flayed skin. He’d never smelled the rotting stench of putrid flesh, or seen the crushed eye sockets, or felt the saliva that poured from the side of the man’s mouth and landed on Rafik’s flesh.
“I’ve waited a long time for this,” the monster rasped as he reached out and touched Rafik’s face.
“No,” Rafik heard Vincha shouting, the rest of her words were swallowed by the sound of his own pounding heart. He knew she was as trapped as he was, and that thought was the last thing that went through his mind before terror claimed his senses and he fainted.
52
“Try not to move now, Vincha.”
“I ain’t moving.” Vincha’s voice betrayed annoyance. “You put my head in a rusting clamp.”
“Well . . . try not to breathe, then. This is a delicate moment.”
“You messing up my plugs—I’d say it’s a delicate moment,”
The brunt of the operation was made with the med bed’s metal hands, but Sci insisted on cleaning her plugs manually. As far as Vincha could tell, Sci was not marked, and without tattoos he could not have been a Mender or a Gadgetier. Nevertheless, he possessed impressive expertise in both fields, a cross between a healer and a Tinker.
“I am not messing up your plugs.” Sci’s voice was slightly muffled by the mask he wore. “I’m just cleaning the mess that is left inside you. Would have been easier to have sedated you completely.”