Bryce stiffened. “You are a healer, Zain—a very good one, but a healer. Leave the tactics to Von and me.” The discussion had been going back and forth in the hub between the tunnels for half a slice. Though Bryce had maintained his composure up to that point, he was close to losing his patience with the Wayman.
“I’ve seen too many of my brethren run screaming into battle not to know a fool’s quest when I see one,” Zain said. “I will not stand idly by and watch while my friends jump into a pit. We’ve lost enough already.”
Bryce threw up his hands. “Then what is your plan, desert man? Sit here in these tunnels until they drag us off one by one? Or would you rather just wait until the storm finishes us off for good?”
“The storm will pass,” Zain said, but his voice lacked conviction.
“Zain, Bryce is right,” Von put in. “We can’t sit here and do nothing. I don’t like the thought of going into that base any more than you do, but what Adan saw is what we’ve been waiting for. We know where the Administrators are—and the missing Sentients have to be there too. We can’t just abandon them; we have to try to save them.”
“If they haven’t had their minds wiped already,” someone muttered from the back of the tunnel.
The comment was like the first shot fired in a battle. Angry eyes flashed around the room searching for who had said it, and then everyone fired off at once. The room erupted into a broiling argument, with most of the Waymen taking Zain’s side and most of the former Collectives voicing support for Bryce. It went on like that, back and forth for some time. Voices rose, harsh words flew from both sides, and grudges that had gone unspoken scurried out from underneath the resentful rocks they had been hiding under.
Just when Adan feared the two sides might come to blows, out of nowhere the floor of the tunnel shook and the ceiling began to tilt.
The chaos of a moment before was nothing compared to what ensued. Everyone started moving at the same time, and in different directions. Adan, who was still trying to figure out what was going on, got jostled in half a dozen directions before he stumbled into a wall. For a moment he thought he was inside another storm, like the one that ripped apart the Institute. But they were underground. No wind was powerful enough to rip apart the stones of the tunnel.
Whatever was causing it, it didn’t stop. The ground writhed beneath their feet. Cracks opened up over their heads. Snapping sounds ripped through the air, sending waves of fear through Adan. Then, like a burst of light in the darkness, Sierra was at his side.
She grabbed his hand and yelled in his ear above the thunderous shaking, “We’ve got to get out of here!”
Her words shocked him awake. They began to run. Others ran beside them and past them in every direction, faceless figures rushing to safety. But there was nowhere safe to go. Showers of small rocks and dirt cascaded down around them, making it impossible to see much of anything.
They stumbled their way along a buckling wall. Adan prayed it would not collapse on them.
Just where he was about to step, the ground split apart. A shockwave sent both of them reeling backwards. Adan lost hold of Sierra’s hand. A deluge of dust washed over him, blinding him so that he lost sight of her as he fell to the ground.
“Sierra!” he called out, choking on the powdery assault. She didn’t answer. The only thing he could see was the yawning crack in the floor in front of him. As he watched, it shuddered and grew wider.
His arm shot out to steady himself, but instead of hitting the floor, his hand landed on top of something much softer—someone’s foot. He scrambled to try and grab more of the person’s leg. Rocks were falling along with the dust. One about the size of his fist grazed his shoulder, narrowly missing his head. Wincing from the blow, and wiping the dust from his eyes, he looked beneath him and finally made out the outline of Sierra’s body, covered in dust and debris.
“Sierra!” he cried, pulling at her arms. As he propped her up she came to her senses, looking wildly about the tunnel. “Come on!”
He got her to her feet as the tunnel rippled again beneath them. The crack in the floor loomed ahead. Adan thought about running back the way they had come when two Waymen rushed past and flung themselves across the gap, disappearing into the haze beyond. He couldn’t see where they had landed. He and Sierra exchanged a quick glance which told him they had to try the jump.
They sprinted the few steps to the edge and launched themselves into the dust cloud. Adan’s arms flailed in the choking air. It seemed like he was suspended in time, waiting to come down. At last something hard slammed into his legs and he rolled into a painful heap.
He tried to gain his feet, but something pegged him in the shoulder blade and he fell down. He struggled again to rise, but pain sapped his strength. He collapsed back down onto the floor.
From out of the dust a pair of hands reached out to grab him. With a quick jerk, he was back on his feet.
Staring into the haze, he thought he saw the outline of a Wayman. It was hard to make out since everything was coated in so much dust, but Zain’s eyes flashed at him through the chalky air.
“Thank you,” Adan cried. Zain said nothing, only pulled him further into the smothering veil.
“Wait!” Adan cried, pulling on Zain’s arm. “Sierra! Where’s Sierra?” Rumbling and crashing rocks smothered the sound of his voice.
Zain didn’t stop. Nor did he let go. He dragged Adan along in a teetering, reeling run. It was like falling forward, but never hitting the ground. The only constant amidst the madness was the back of Zain’s dust-caked garrick. Adan kept focused on that until his lungs nearly burst with dust and lack of air. It wasn’t until then he realized that the tunnel had stopped shaking some time ago. The dust settled and he slowed to catch his breath, noticing for the first time that half a dozen other Sentients had been running along with him. At the sight of Sierra among them, a wave of relief washed over him.
The ache in his chest faded and Zain spoke into the silence.
“We’re safe now.”
Adan said nothing, still not sure whether or not to believe the quake had ended. But as his breathing steadied and the ground remained still, he finally came to accept the fact that the tremors which had rocked the tunnel were over.
Nineteen
The Quarry
The survivors of the quake gathered in the dim confines of an abandoned building somewhere in what had once been Axis Prime, the central district of Oasis. Six Sentients had died in the terrible quake inside the tunnels, two Waymen and four of the former Collectives. Only fifteen people were left, including Adan.
Adan’s shoulder and back were bruised from the many blows he’d received, but he had come out relatively unscathed compared to others. Many had suffered multiple cuts and sported ugly, multi-colored bruises. One of the Sentients, a man named Trey, was still unconscious and was only alive because two Waymen had carried him out of the tunnels.
No one spoke, though several sobbed quietly, huddled in the hollows between piles of the scrap. Their dust covered faces were devoid of color. Fear had followed them up from below and hung over them now like a cloud.
Like Adan, Sierra had suffered only a few bruises and nicks. She moved mechanically, occupying herself with tending to the wounded, and perhaps for that reason had not broken down.
In the midst of this hopelessness, with the winds still howling in the streets outside the building, Bryce called for everyone’s attention. Of all those gathered, the shock and pain registered least on his steely face.
“The tunnels are no longer safe. We’ve felt tremors before, but nothing like this one. We have to try and find our way into Manx Core. It’s our only choice. And we have to go together.” His words were stark, made even more so by the bloody gash running the length of his face.
The winds screeched through the ruins in reply, the only answer he received for some time. No one stirred, though a few of those who were sobbing did look up.
Then Zain, who had been helping S
ierra wrap the arm of one of the Sentients, rose to his feet.
“How will we get there? Did you not say that it is deep underground?” His face looked weary, doubly so for the dust still clinging to his skin and beard, but his tone was resigned. He would oppose Bryce’s plan no longer.
“The quarry is the deepest place we have access to and it’s open enough that a quake there wouldn’t be nearly as dangerous,” Von said. “I suppose we could try and dig in the direction we need to go and hope we hit an access tunnel.”
“All of our tools are still down in our sar,” said one of the Waymen, a tall man named Wik, formerly of thral Din. “And even with our tools, we might dig for years and never find anything.”
“What about the cutter?” Sierra asked, moving to stand beside Zain. Her words were met with raised eyebrows and puzzled looks from the Waymen. “It’s a device that Adan brought with him. It can cut through solid rock.”
“And you have this device with you?” Zain asked, turning to Adan.
“No,” Adan said, “It’s still down in the tunnels with the other supplies.”
“Then we have to go back for it,” Bryce said. “Everything depends now on how much we can salvage from the tunnels. Those of us who are in the best condition will head back down and bring back whatever we can carry. Our priority will be tools and food first, then weapons. Everything else can be left behind.”
Zain nodded. “It is a good plan. But I worry whether or not it is safe to go back underground.”
Bryce wiped a fresh trickle of blood from the wound on his face. “We have no other choice but to risk it,” he said. No one said anything in reply. It was obvious there was nothing more to say.
Thankfully, they did recover the cutter. They also found the chronotrace, which certainly warmed Adan’s spirits. They managed to salvage a handful of other supplies as well: some lumins, an energy disruption sphere, a sack of kern, one of Raif’s variance modulators, and two of his makeshift zoeliths. They might have gotten more if they’d spent a few days digging, but Bryce said that would be enough for now.
Not everyone was able to go on the mission to Manx Core. Those still recovering from their injuries and two Waymen healers would stay behind.
Adan and the others made their way towards the quarry, lighting their way with a pair of lumins, one with Zain at the front and one with Wik at the back. They used the variance modulator to scan for somatarchs and traveled through the more intact buildings as often as they could. It took them almost half a slice to arrive at the entrance to the quarry.
Adan had hoped it would be as impressive as the Basin, but the quarry was nothing more than a hollowed out section of exposed bedrock amidst the smashed-in lower floors of the Institute. Errant beams jutted out of massive jumbles of stone. Shattered equipment littered what was left of the flooring. The once carefully ordered layout of floors and rooms now looked more like the inside of Will’s scrap barrels than any place ever inhabited by humans.
The climb down through the twisted girders and battered infrastructure involved a great deal of ducking, crawling, and squeezing through difficult spots. They utilized a series of rope ladders which had been tied in place to drop into places too dangerous to jump to. The trip would have been impossible if Adan had been on his own, but the Waymen showed him where it was safe to step and helped him navigate the treacherous patches.
Once they reached the quarry, all signs of the Institute disappeared. It was a cavern of bare rock, roughly eighty paces in diameter and about two body-lengths in height. Adan had never seen how the Waymen and Welkin harvested their powders from the rock, but he got an idea by looking at the various striations along the walls. The rocks ran horizontally in layers of muted shades of purple, green, yellow, and white. These colored rocks were pocked with channels and holes where the Sentients had extracted samples.
After setting down their weapons and gear, Bryce divided the party into two groups. Adan was paired with Zain, Wik, and Bryce while Von and Sierra went with Yor and Ket, the other two Waymen. Each group was to take a turn using the cutter to delve into the rock. Based on the information from the chronotrace, the Core was located down and to the west, running beneath the Desiccant Flats.
One person from each group would do the cutting while the other three would clear out rubble. Adan was given the task of carving out the tunnel for his group since the cutter belonged to him. His group took the first rotation.
He passed by the colored veins and headed towards a smooth, dark section of rock at the back of the cavern. The bright slice of yellow light from the cutter pierced the darkness, giving rise to scattered murmurs from the Waymen.
Adan made a large, sweeping circle at the base of the wall. A few flakes of rock fell to the ground, but nothing substantial. After the deliberateness of his first cut, he decided to try a more vigorous approach. He slashed two times, crisscrossing his cuts. When nothing more came out, he started slicing more wildly, alternating the angle of his cuts with no real pattern. It felt more like he was weaving a brilliant tapestry of light than tearing up the wall. Chips of rock went flying, but little else. Finally, a small, fist-sized chunk tumbled to the floor. It looked like a ball of hardened, gray mosh, but at least it was something.
Soon the rocks began to fall more frequently. Whenever they did, Adan’s crew moved in swiftly to pull out the rubble. The dark wall surrendered itself slowly to his incandescent assault.
Carving out the tunnel was draining work. Adan swung the metal tube on his arm over and over again. The tube grew so heavy at times he thought he might topple over. Though he had taken off his garrick before starting, the air in the tunnel was stifling. His shirt dripped with sweat.
As hard as the work was, and as tired as he was getting, his other aches and pains from the quake slowly dissipated. The bruises on his shoulder and back, which had still been sore when he started, felt perfectly fine by the time he stopped. He’d not even received any almamenth and yet his strange healing ability continued.
Sierra was chosen by Von and the others to wield the cutter for the second group. The tunnel was twenty paces long by the time she started and far enough down that only their heads and shoulders were visible when they stood at the far end.
As Adan sat with the others, Zain took out a piece of kern and began to chew. He looked at Wik and asked in the Wayman tongue, “What do you think? Are we baiting the storm down here? This whole place could fall down on our heads.”
Wik eyed the tunnel warily. “The legends say that when the ground trembles, it is because the world is sick, but it is hard to say. I’m not sure I believe the legends anymore.”
“May Numinae protect us all,” Zain said. He closed his eyes and Adan could tell he was praying.
Adan thought about uttering a prayer himself, but found he could not. The power he had felt in the tunnels seemed so unstoppable, he wondered what good praying for protection would be, especially if it was Numinae who had caused it?
Adan waited until Zain finished praying and caught his eye.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Adan began tentatively, “about Numinae, and how we need to accept what happens to us as his will.”
Zain regarded him with an expectant look.
Adan continued, “But if that’s so, then why bother to pray? If we’re meant to simply accept things, what is the point of asking for help?” Adan felt brash for even asking the question, but he thought Zain would understand.
“A valid question,” Zain said, nodding. He finished off his bite of kern. “I do not believe you have spent very much time around children, but if you get the chance it might help answer your question.”
“You’re saying that children understand prayer better than adults?”
“That may be, but that is not what I meant. I was thinking of the way they act around their parents. You see, children have no reservation when it comes to asking them for advice or seeking their attention or help. They simply let their wants be made known
, and sometimes in rather unpleasant ways. If they are tired or hungry or cold they will find a way to communicate this. And often they will receive help, because it is the duty of parents to care and provide for their children. More than their duty, fathers and mothers love them dearly and want the best for them. But sometimes the best thing for children is telling them no. Because often what they want is not good, and a good parent, a perfect parent, knows what is in a child’s best interests. Do you see the parallel?”
“That Numinae is like the parent and we are like his children. But the children don’t change their parent’s mind do they? At least not if the parent is trying to do the right thing like you said.”
“Correct. And deep down children know this, but they cannot help themselves. It is in their nature to ask.”
“So they ask just because it’s natural?”
Zain picked another piece of kern out of his pouch, but kept it in his hand, gesturing with it as he spoke. “There is more to it than that. They ask in order to find out what is good and what is not. They ask because even more than love, they need the truth. They ask to discover the will of their father, to see if their heart’s cry finds an echo in his.”
Adan’s heart felt strangely warmed at these words. He looked into Zain's sparkling brown eyes and at last he thought he understood.
As Adan finished praying, peace spread through him like the sensation he got when drinking a piping hot cup of atol.
He got up from where he’d been sitting to stretch his legs and noticed Bryce standing off by himself. Adan wasn’t sure how long he’d been praying, but Sierra and the others had gone far enough into the rock that all he could see now was the glow from the cutter reflecting off the walls.
The Chronotrace Sequence- The Complete Box Set Page 52