The descent proved slow and difficult and her bare hands and legs chafed on the coarse rope. Her arm muscles ached with the effort. Zania wished she had the uniform and the technical means of the North American Federation Army, but she enjoyed the challenge. Every successful test of her limitations counted as a victory.
Other vines fell next to hers and she avoided their wild swing as they dropped down into the fissure. Dirt and gravel showered her head and shoulders. The Vikings had started their descent. It would take time to get the four tribes down there, even with several ropes. Two meters from the dusty floor, Zania let go of the vine and leapt down.
She picked up the torch and held it high. The train tunnel with wide metal tracks resembled the ones below the bunker, confirming her theory, but their state of total disrepair evoked a post apocalyptic nightmare. She wondered what happened here for these tunnels to be condemned centuries ago.
Zania gazed up at the warriors standing at the top of the fissure. From the position of the sun before she went down, she deduced that the tunnel ran West and East. And straight East, lay the city of Dagora. She only hoped the tunnel would run unobstructed all the way to the city.
As more men and women dropped to the tunnel floor, Zania provided light for their torches. When most of the Vikings stood at the bottom, Svend finally landed next to Zania.
He smiled, his face flushed with excitement. "Let’s get going," he whispered. "The rest will follow."
Svend took the lead with Zania, and the Vikings filed in behind them.
Forced to measure her steps, Zania walked on the remnants of rotten sleepers still joining the tracks in places. Here and there, fissures in the ceiling brought faint light, and the air currents made the torches flicker. Water seeped in through the broken concrete, making the decaying beams slippery.
Zania glanced back and saw that the tribes, as expected, tended to stick together. Behind the Vikings, Gray led the Freedom hunters with Raven, and the Centurions formed the middle of the line.
To Zania’s relief, the Amazons brought up the rear. She had enough on her mind and didn’t want to deal with Morrigan’s shameless grief, or Dakini’s jealous wrath. Not to mention the nasty Gorgon.
The pools along the tracks deepened. Soon, Zania waded knee high in black, sooty liquid. The pungent smell reminded her of skunks. She heard expletives and sounds of splashing from further down the line.
"Keep your torches and your explosives dry!" Zania’s voice carried along the straight tunnel.
More expletives and splashing echoed back. Although they could now speak freely, the men and women kept silent. Zania understood their apprehension. This time, they didn’t face single combat with fifty-fifty chances of survival. They faced a war against superior machines, a fearsome enemy. Aries, god of war, please protect this unlikely legion fighting for a just cause.
The long march underground seemed like the perfect time to grill Svend about his past. "Do you miss your country?"
Svend grunted. "I miss the fjords and the snow, but talking about it won’t bring me back... Or bring back those who died." His face tightened in the light of the torches.
"But you can’t ignore your past. It’s part of you." Zania took his hand. "It honors the dead when we speak of them."
Although he didn’t shy from her hand, Svend shook his head. "There is no honor in the way they died. Only shame."
"Still." Zania smiled and squeezed his hand. "They would be happy to know that you shared their memory."
He stared at her, a puzzled expression on his face. "You never give up, do you?"
Zania chuckled. "Not easily."
Svend picked up the pace, as if wanting to distance himself from the group. "I was so young, these times now seem like a faraway dream... with a nightmare ending."
"What was your wife’s name?" Zania had wanted to ask since she learned he had a wife.
"Freya, like the Goddess of love and war." Svend smiled sadly. "You remind me of her in many ways. She, too, was a good fighter, and she didn’t give up easily."
Zania smiled at the comparison. So, Svend liked her for other reasons than their obvious physical attraction. "How did you meet?"
Svend sighed but gave her a half smile. "Our marriage was arranged by my father the King. We were childhood friends, and always knew we would get married."
Zania couldn’t grasp that concept but wanted to keep him talking. "What did you do in happier days?"
"Hunt the cold forest for subsistence." Svend stared ahead into the darkness as if he could see his past life there. "And fight rival tribes over hunting territory."
"Sounds like a harsh life." But Zania’s military career would probably sound just as brutal.
"Is there any other kind?" Svend moved his torch higher, illuminating the tunnels and the miserable muck they waded into. "Most would consider this life a living hell."
"True." But Zania didn’t mind it. "I chose to be a warrior. In my world, others enjoyed the freedom I fought to give them."
"That’s why you beat me on our first fight." He winked. "You always were a fighter."
"I know I didn’t win." Zania didn’t like to be reminded. Was he making fun of her shame? "Thanks for saving my life back then... and later."
Svend shrugged. "I only did what seemed right at the time."
"Most wouldn’t." Zania wondered whether he would have done the same for anyone. Then she realized that Svend had conceived and organized the escape of the slaves, and now he led them into a dangerous mission to save more innocents he'd never met.
After two or three hours of trudging in mire, the tunnel opened wide. Zania recognized the setup of an underground railway station. Beyond it, several tunnels branched out. Which one would lead to Dagora? Hopefully they wouldn’t have to split the group.
Large signs on the walls, framed like cartouches, reminded Zania of ancient cuneiform tablets. She turned to Svend. "Can anyone read these?"
"Maybe." Svend climbed up to one of the crumbling platforms and stood above the rest. "Everyone take a break!"
The Vikings climbed the platforms to sit on the edge, feet dangling above the shallow black sludge. Some removed their boots and dumped out the water then massaged wet feet. Others opened their bundles to bite into some fruit. Others walked away, probably to relieve themselves.
When Gray and Raven reached the station with the Freedom tribe, Svend met them at the arched opening and motioned for Zania to follow.
Svend offered his hand for Gray to climb up the platform. "Can you read the old language?"
Gray’s brow shot up. "How old?"
While Svend helped Raven climb up, Zania raised her torch. With one arm, she wiped the dust from the large sign on the tunnel wall.
"What does it say?"
Gray squinted. "Dagora Marketplace. I know where this is. We already crossed the city shield. We are inside the city."
Svend slapped Gray’s back. "Great news!" He turned to Zania with a grin. "Your plan is coming together."
Zania felt elation. All these efforts might actually come to fruition. "How far are we from the capitol building?"
"Two kliks." Gray frowned. "Maybe less."
"Good." Zania wondered whether the machines in the city had sensitive hearing. She lowered her voice. "If the capitol was an important destination at the time, there should be a train station there, too."
"We are all tired of this waiting." Svend paced the platform. "My men need a good battle."
Zania, too wanted this mission to be over, but she didn’t like the odds. If the machines prevailed, the former slaves would die. So would the citizens of Dagora.
*****
The word spread that the machines might be listening, and the tribes had to remain quiet. Later that day, they reached the Capitol station, and the leaders ordered a rest for the night before the coming battle.
As the four tribes settled down on the train platform, Zania felt like an outsider. She didn’t belong to any particular group.
The Vikings tolerated her only because their leader liked her.
"I have to talk to my men," Svend said as an apology. "They trust me and they need me right now."
"Of course." Zania felt restless anyway. "I’ll go explore the secondary tunnels. See if I can find an exit."
Going up stairs and broken escalators, Zania followed the narrow pedestrian passages. Most seemed to lead upward and converged into a wide tunnel ending into stone stairs that went all the way up to the ceiling.
In the industrial days, the stairs must have emerged on the surface, but the opening in the ceiling had been covered long ago. Judging by the amount of dust and spider webs, no one had been here in centuries. Aries only knew what lay above that ceiling now.
Bubbling with excitement, Zania returned to the platform where the tribes camped. Svend sat in a circle with Gray and Raven. He talked in soft tones by the light of a single torch.
"I think I found our exit," Zania managed to whisper, controlling her voice. She doused her torch and threw it on the pile.
"Good." Gray sounded excited. It must be strange for him to return home under these circumstances.
"But I can’t read the signs." Zania sat on the concrete next to Svend. She found his proximity reassuring. "We’ll need you to decipher the writing."
Gray nodded.
Remembering what Raven had told her about the radio contacts, Zania asked, "Do we even know if the scientists that sent you messages are still alive? Are they still expecting us after all this time?"
Gray’s jaw tensed. "I haven’t heard a word in six months. But I know they desperately need our help. Put yourself in their shoes. We are their only hope."
"I see..." But Zania couldn’t imagine a race so docile as not to take action when their lives were threatened.
"We also need a back up plan." Svend looked serious. "If our assault does not succeed at first, where can we regroup?"
Zania looked up at Svend with renewed respect. In her reckless haste, she’d overlooked the possibility of failure, and the all important plan-B. Svend, as usual, wanted to insure the safety of the whole group.
Gray scratched his beard. "The only place in the city where the machines do not have access is the temple..."
*****
As soon as she awoke, Zania headed back to the stairs with Gray and Svend, while Raven, the Chief Centurion, and Dakini took charge of preparing the troops. The cuneiform writing indicated that the main exit led directly inside the lobby of the Capitol building. Good news. The warriors wouldn’t have to run exposed in the open.
With help from Svend and Gray, Zania placed a few bombs in natural cracks of the crumbling ceiling, but that wouldn’t be enough, especially if a new stone floor lined the upper side. Using old metal benches found nearby, they built a scaffolding at the top of the stairs, to set the explosives against the ceiling. With such rudimentary bombs, Zania could only guess at the approximate impact.
To allow the warriors to rush out fast enough, she needed to blast a wide opening. The explosion would attract attention and Dagora must have a fast emergency response. A slow exit could jeopardize the whole operation.
After finishing her set up, complete with long connecting fuses that would detonate all the charges at the same time, Zania spoke to the tribes that had joined them. "Explosives are dangerous. You must remain in the side tunnel. Then as soon as the blast is over, rush out as fast as you can, but protect your face from the dust. We should exit inside the main lobby of the building."
Resolute faces stared back at Zania in the flickering glow of the torches. Although most of them had never used modern weapons, they all knew about the dangers of fighting an advanced culture.
Svend stepped forward. "Our goal is to secure and hold the building until we can fix the machines... "
"How long?" a feminine voice asked.
Zania had no clue. "As long as it takes."
Gray nodded. "But we only fight the machines. The citizens do not bear arms and are no danger to us."
Zania held up one hand. "And remember to always hit the ground after you throw a bomb."
The two hundred warriors, men and women, deployed on each side of the short tunnel leading to the stairs while Zania and Svend returned to the scaffolding at the top of the stairs. When the ground shook, Zania realized it was an earthquake. She could use it to mask the explosion. Thank Aries for small favors.
She signaled Svend. They each lit a long fuse then rushed down the stairs, to the safety of the side tunnel, away from the blast. The tremor and the blast merged into the rolling thunder of the earthquake. The torches flickered. The explosion sent dust, plaster and bricks flying down the stairs into the side tunnel.
Covering her nose and mouth with her arm against the dust, Zania rushed into the exit tunnel and up the stairs, avoiding blocks of fallen concrete, surprised at the size of the gaping hole. A wide opening now graced the top of the stairs. Daylight poured in, blinding through the dust. She heard warriors coughing and swearing behind her.
She emerged into a vast empty lobby, clean and devoid of dust. The smooth floor underfoot felt so good. Zania had come back to civilization. She turned to Gray. "Which way?"
Gray pointed to a wide marble staircase in the back, behind the reception counter. "Up."
Sirens blared inside the building and metal louvers rolled down, covering the windows, making the interior dark. The emergency lights kicked in.
"I guess the elevator is out of the question." Zania hurried behind Gray and Svend, who glanced back. He’d probably never seen an elevator.
Meanwhile, the warriors spread out in the lobby. Weapon fire made Zania turn, but she must focus on the mission. Let the others take care of the armed robots.
Explosions followed. At least, the warriors used their best weapons.
When Zania's small party reached the landing, Gray went right, along the gallery overlooking the lobby. The place seemed deserted, except for the warriors fighting downstairs.
Gray stopped in front of a forbidding metal door engraved with cuneiform inscriptions, with no apparent lock or handle. "This is where they keep the mainframe, but we need a pass to get in." He pointed to the security scanner sticking out of the doorframe.
Zania smiled. "I have a pass." She pulled out of her satchel a bamboo bomb and set it on the ledge of the security scanner. "Get back!" She lit the bomb with her torch then leapt and hit the floor.
The blast rocked the gallery but the door didn’t open. A whizzing sound filled the air, then several drones appeared, over the banister, surrounding Zania and her two friends, backed to the heavy metal door.
"Perfect!" Zania pulled out another bomb and lit the fuse. "Fire before they do!" She threw her explosive device and foraged for another.
Svend and Gray imitated her.
Explosions filled the gallery with smoke and soot. The flying machines spit out darts that zinged and ricocheted on the metal door and nicked the marble floor.
"Down!" Zania yelled as she dropped to light her next bomb. "Lower targets are harder to hit." She threw a bomb at a silver drone. The blast sent it flying against two others. Three machines fell heavily all the way down to the lobby floor in a loud crash.
At her side, Svend and Gray were throwing more charges. Unable to see the drones through the smoke, Zania threw her bombs in quick succession in their general direction. After more explosions, another drone died in a shower of sparks, then a strange calm followed.
"Are they gone?" Gray looked ashen under the layer of grit and soot.
The heavy metal door at their back, the one that had resisted the explosion, now cracked open. The head of a bald man popped into the corridor. "This way, quick."
Gray rushed inside, motioning for Zania and Svend to follow. Zania gladly complied.
The bald man in a gray lab coat locked the door behind the three warriors. Then he smiled shyly at Gray and blushed. "I thought you’d never get here, brother."
Did the man say brother? No
wonder Gray insisted on saving the citizens. He had family here.
Gray hugged the bald man then turned to his friends, smiling. "This is my brother, Grayson."
As both smiled, Zania noticed the resemblance. Grayson? Was everyone on this planet some shade of gray?
Chapter Twelve
Zania stared at the computer command center in awe. The vast elliptic room looked like nothing she’d ever seen. On walls of liquid silver, cryptic cuneiform writing scrolled. Images of the planet from satellites filled entire sections of wall.
Other screens displayed the city streets, where the population didn’t seem aware of anything out of the ordinary. Did all the citizens of this Earth wear gray? Zania couldn’t believe the cameras would record in black and white. No, the sky was a vivid blue. What a strange culture!
Grayson pointed to one screen. "This is what’s happening outside this building."
From the outside, the armored panels protecting the glass dome of the Capitol resembled the octagonal scales of a turtle. Near the main entrance, drones hovered, mechanical arms extended, applying various tools to the concrete walls and metal doors as they attempted to bore their way inside. More drones joined them in a steady flow, like an army of hovering ants.
Svend studied the screen gravely. "I hope you can control the machines before these drones get in. There are two many for the warriors to handle."
Zania shared his concern.
Gray also looked nervous. "Can the scientists in other cities help us neutralize the computers?"
"I couldn’t get through to them. Their computers already wrote us off, as if we were already dead." Grayson wrung his hands. "There is worse news. The main computer outsmarted us."
"How so?" Zania realized just how many things could go wrong and she didn’t like the odds.
Grayson raised both hands in surrender. "The machines suspected something. They isolated the electronic brain so we can’t reprogram it."
Zania glanced at the large control room. "Where is it?"
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