“Got it. See you with our next collection,” I said, wading into the receding water with a jaunty wave. I didn’t feel jaunty, but it was a good policy to keep the team from sensing my distrust of the submerged chambers.
20
The water greeted me again, warm and sullen. It was a meter lower and falling, but still over my head. The lights were brighter, and the wall loomed into sight faster because I knew what to expect. With some of the mystery gone, the second chamber was more of an engineering problem than a looming place of death. I surfaced at the wall, filled my lungs, and went to the center, looking for the control hatch, but not before marking the position of the bolt that would be my emergency release in the event things were frozen shut after years underwater.
I tapped the bolt and handle. Neither moved, but I didn’t put any muscle behind it because the hatch was smaller and made better sense. I lowered myself to the hatch, found the secure handle, and realized I could see it in the murky water.
The lights grew brighter with each passing second, and to my relief, there were no armored crocodiles or piranha swimming toward me. With an internal sigh, I put both feet against the hatch, took the bar in my hands, and twisted with everything my ‘bots had to give me.
The handle moved. Not much, but enough to feel. I surfaced, filled my lungs again, and went back down with a glimmer of hope. Taking the bar again, I jerked it to the side like I was breaking a lugnut free, and to my utter surprise, the handle rotated completely, banging against the hatch with the noise of a muffled gong. Before I could recover, the door edged open as the water pressure between chambers began to equalize. There was less on my side, and more on the other. Gravity began to work, and the door swung open, releasing a darker current of water to mix with the amber gold of what I swam in.
In the current, things were moving.
At me.
I kicked like a demented donkey, slashing the water to a foam as I reversed gears and made for the stairwell at a speed that was somewhere between raw panic and naked terror. In ten seconds I erupted from the water, spinning to face the flooded chamber with my hands up in an approximation of a boxer’s stance, though how I intended to punch something underwater was a bit unclear.
“You, um. You saw something?” Silk asked, her brow lifted in concern. She, Chloe, and Mira all had their guns trained on the water, while Andi stared at me in disbelief.
“I’ve never seen someone come out of the water like that. He’s like a dolphin,” Andi said, reaching out to me. Her expression hovered between concern and laughter.
“It’s not funny. There are things in the water,” I said. Then I realized I sounded a bit hysterical, so I took a breath or three.
“Did these things attack you?” Chloe asked. She at least had the good sense to treat my experience with the severity it deserved. Then her lips curled up in a smirk, and I knew she too had gone over to the other side.
“No, but they would have if I stayed in the water. Why are you all laughing? Are they underwater kittens or something?” I asked.
Chloe held up the shell from earlier, smiling broadly. “Toe biters. I recognized it from the springs up north.”
“Toe biters? And you think this nickname makes me feel better? What if they’re actually—oh, shit.” I looked down at the shell, a sheepish grin on my face. “Waterbugs? Big waterbugs?”
“Yes. Granted, if there were a few thousand of them you might be in trouble, but I don’t think they can really hurt you. Unless you take your boots off,” Chloe remarked.
“Of course,” Silk chimed in. “Then he would be maimed, one toe at a time. Hell of a way to go.” She shuddered dramatically, dragging her full lips into a sympathetic frown.
“I don’t like them. I’m on your side,” Mira said in solidarity with my wholly legitimate concerns about the army of predatory bugs.
“See? She gets it.” I glared at everyone except Mira, who appeared to be the only person truly on my side. If the bugs were no big deal, then everyone should be in the water, frolicking with them or whatever the hell you call swimming with insects the size of toasters.
“We could electrocute them. All,” Andi offered. “It’s simple.”
“Go on. I’m listening,” I said.
“Are you that concerned about them?” Chloe asked, without a hint of sarcasm. She knew I had a reason for my concern, even if I was masking it with a breezy attitude.
“Not them. But what’s been eating them? Sure,” I said.
“How do you know something’s been eating them?” Silk asked, her expression thoughtful as she peered into the lowering water.
“Easy. If there wasn’t something preying on them, then the water would be full of them. To the point that they would starve themselves out, or at the very least reduced to a population of only a few. There were hundreds of them boiling through the opening. That means there is biomass coming into the chambers, and biomass feeding on what’s in the chambers. At least that’s how I see it.” I hefted a sword and looked back at the water. “I’m going back in as soon as the water drops to thigh level. We don’t have time to wait, and the lights are bright enough to penetrate to the floor. I’ll see whatever is coming.”
“And if there is a predator, we can take it out here. With a rifle,” Chloe said, unshouldering her weapon.
“Just don’t miss. I don’t want to be ventilated again. It hurts,” I said, smiling wryly.
“I won’t” Chloe said. She meant it. Mira and Chloe were expert shots. You had to be in the desert.
“Almost time,” I said, judging the receding waters with a jaundiced eye. I fought the urge to spit in it, imagining millions of wriggling beetles and their quest for dinner.
The water began to ripple, and we all grew still as the surface broke apart in wavelets as the water level continued to fall. I heard a low hum, then Andi gestured to the drain.
“Secondary pumps kicking in. The water will fall faster now,” she said. I noticed she had her own weapon ready.
“No time like now, I think.” I watched the water with serious reservations, but the motion seemed to be only beetles—hundreds of them, but still, just waterbugs and well below the level of any of my exposed skin.
I waded in.
The waterbugs parted before me, swirling in wild, unruly mobs as they churned the lowering water in desperation. Many of them reversed course and tried to go back toward the hatch, wriggling in clacking masses as they fought to get over their cousins and into the deeper water of the second chamber. The water level would stabilize once it dropped below the hatch, so their instincts were on point, but I was going all the way to the end of the hall, and if the pumps worked, the entire floor would be dry in a matter of hours.
“Are you okay?” Silk asked, her face a bit pale as she watched the bugs thump against my legs in their confusion.
“Come on in. The water’s fine.” I grinned to reassure her, then walked slow and steady toward the hatch, my movements failing to trigger any mass attack by the insect horde around me. I pulled my second blade, just in case, and edged to the right side of the hatch, looking in with caution.
“What do you see?” Chloe asked. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the water and the bugs, and her words caromed off the metal partition with a mechanical echo.
“Another chamber, about twice as long, maybe three times. Four doors, more lights. Smells about the same, maybe a little fishy.” I watched the bugs fighting like salmon in their quest to get back to the second chamber. “What’s in this section, other than another drain?” I asked Andi.
She pointed to the left. “Small armory on that side, then the next three doors are all power systems. The damaged reactor is in there, second door.” She jabbed a finger to the right, then waved her hand at everything else. “The rest is stored reactor units. The mother lode. Then, in the third section, you’ll see a trap door. That’s access to the vampires and other exotics.”
“Are they folded wing?” I asked.
/> “Yes, but to answer your question, we’re not bringing them out this way. There’s a closed access tunnel with shaped charges outside. We blow the rock hatch and take all the arms out that way,” Andi said.
It was a damned good system, and the secure position meant that even if Rowan could get in, he couldn’t just steal the aircraft.
“Good.” I lifted a boot and put it on the hatchway, moving a dozen beetles out of the way as I did.
The salamander clamped down on my foot like a vise, its teeth shearing into my pantleg like a row of serrated knives. It was two meters long, slick, and black as night, its pale eyes tiny dots in a wide head that gave it an almost phallic look. My sword took the head off in a silver flicker as the body slumped back into the water, instantly swarmed by bugs.
The head, still cheerfully biting the shit out of my leg, remained right where it was. I jammed my blades in the mouth and twisted, prying the powerful jaws apart with a savage twist. The head fell into the sludge of waterbugs below, covered in a frenzy as the dinner bell rang and every bug that was trying to leave turned to feast on their former master.
“What the—what was that?” Andi managed to ask. From attack to beheading had been mere seconds. The corpse wouldn’t last much longer.
“Salamander. Like a hellbender, but bigger. I think we know why the beetles didn’t take over,” I said.
“Those fucking things live in colonies? The salamanders?” Chloe asked. Her gun wavered nervously around.
“Put your gun down, I’m fine. Hurts, but nothing serious. The ‘bots will have me fixed up in a minute,” I said.
“Yes, but the bite—” Silk began, but I waved her off with a gentle gesture.
“Isn’t venomous. It’s okay, I can feel it,” I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone.
“Are there more? There must be more,” Mira said, her rifle level and steady. She’d stared down bigger creatures; an overgrown amphibian wasn’t going to make her tuck tail and run.
“Probably. If I remember my biology class in school, that critter needs running water to live. I’m betting there’s an outside channel or access that kept the water circulating, even if the pumps failed,” I said.
“That would explain a lot of things. Like why there was air at the top, and why the entire place isn’t flooded. Maybe it was the storm, too,” Andi said. The noise around was us still alarming, but we were getting used to it as some of the beetles settled back into the water, either tired or wounded from clashing with their cousins.
“I’m going into the second chamber,” I said, reaching down with my boot to stir the water. “Let’s see if I can fish one of these slimy bastards up.”
On cue, another salamander lunged at me from the murky water, but I was ready for it. My blade flashed again, taking the creature just behind the front legs. It gasped once, the wide, flat mouth clapping together in a comical thud as it slid back to be devoured. “Mother nature is a hardass,” I remarked. “Think I’ll try for that cable you told me about, just to speed this up.”
“To the left,” Andi said. “How low is the water?”
“A meter at most. Still enough room for predators, but the lights are good. I’m wading in,” I said without fanfare, stepping through the hatch and bearing left along the divider wall. I saw the cable Andi told me about, high and mounted to the wall in a straight line. It was black conduit, bolted tight and sturdy.
In three swift steps, each making a foam wake behind me, I pushed to the wall, reached up, and grabbed the cable with my left hand. Salamanders swirled in the water beneath me as I pulled myself up, thanking my ‘bots yet again for the ability to hold myself up with one arm.
“Can you see the sign for the drain?” Andi asked through the hatch.
“It’s right here. I’m going to clear it with my blade, then we’ll bag the debris later. I don’t think we can fit all of the salamanders and beetles into the trash bag,” I said, watching things move through the water in varying speeds. This wasn’t a flooded chamber. It was an aquarium.
“Gonna stink down here when they die,” Andi said.
“I have a plan for that. Let me get to the third section before we worry about the details. Then we can secure the Vampires and make plans to greet our guests,” I said. I was busy using my blade as a shovel, peeling the mat of debris away from the second drain. In seconds, I heard the distinct hum of another secondary pump, and the water began to swirl into the grate with growing speed. “Gonna clear in a hurry. Be ready to come in here, Andi. I need you on this reactor as soon as you can walk with dry feet.”
“I’m ready. We all are,” she said, and I heard a chorus of agreement behind her.
“I’m going to do a little pest control while you wait,” I said, dropping into the water with a splash. I began walking in a slow, deliberate circle, striking down at salamanders as they crashed into my legs, their jaws snapping with fury. I killed them in short, economic strokes of both blades, filling the draining water with the corpses, which became so heavy with beetles that they sank to the floor.
In minutes, there was little water and not one living salamander, the only evidence of their occupation being their vanishing bodies and a vaguely fishy smell that hung in the air.
“Nice work,” Andi said, her boots squelching on the muck as she led everyone into the hallway. “Let’s get this reactor housing fixed. My teeth hurt from that friggin’ whine.”
She tried the door, but it was either rusted or frozen shut from debris, so I opted for a less delicate approach. I wrenched the handle down in a savage twist, nearly tearing the door apart.
But it opened.
“Subtle,” Andi said, grinning.
“I’m nothing if not delicate. Let me clear the room,” I said, raising my blades and stepping into the power center. Lights flickered on, stubborn at first but warming, and there was little water on the floor at all. The seals had held, which told me the flooded hallway was an occasional event rather than a constant. That explained the desperate populations of creatures; they would only come out after enough water could activate their life cycles in the harsh reality of The Empty.
“What do you see?” Andi asked me when I stood in silence, staring at the room.
“The future. And beyond,” I said. I wasn’t kidding. Before me was the most beautiful sight I could imagine. Row upon row of pocket reactors sat in partial crates, lined up and flawless in their racks.
“Gorgeous, aren’t they?” Andi said, her tone openly admiring.
“Those are . . . engines?” Chloe asked.
We all stood inside the door, fresh air blowing over our faces as the room’s environmental systems kicked into gear.
“Reactors. Way more powerful than any engine, and they’ll run for a thousand years. Or more,” Andi said.
“Could we use them to have lights at night, all the time?” Silk asked.
“Sure. As much light as you want,” Andi said, lifting her brow at Silk, who was subdued after her question. “Why, honey?”
“Sometimes you need light at night,” was all Silk would say, and I knew she was right. The dark had to be pushed back, both in reality and in the wider sense. With these reactors, we could do both.
“And we’ll have it. Promise,” I told Silk, because she needed to know there was more ahead of us than just endless violence. There would be safety, too, and a place to look at the stars and not wonder if tomorrow was the day that you died. I was going to make it happen, but first, I needed the reactor steadied. “Andi, can you check the reactor before we become part of a small, angry mushroom cloud?”
“On it,” she said, walking into the room and going straight for a banked reactor with three large panel adapters. The room was clean, with no spiderwebs, bones, or other indication of unwelcome guests. I kept my blades in hand just in case, and Chloe, Mira, and Silk all had weapons out too.
Andi went to work. She withdrew a small ratchet with a gooseneck, flipping it around in a blur as the reactor housing ca
me off in less than a minute. The hum intensified, set free form the muffling effect of the carbon shield, but Andi didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were fixated on the reactor, a pair of cables that ran to the left, and a lone, winking red dot that I understood to mean something was wrong.
“What’s the verdict?” I asked her, wondering if she would get pissed at being questioned while working, but she looked over her shoulder and smiled.
“In simple terms? Age. Twenty centuries of tiny vibrations have worn down the housing mounts, and it was leaning on the unit. It turned into a tuning fork,” Andi said, working as she spoke. She went around the side of the small reactor and pushed, then kicked it once, looked at the position, and kicked it again, harder.
“Seems quite technical,” I remarked drily.
“Oh, it is. You have to kick it just so in order to get the mounts back in line. I’m highly trained, kids. Don’t try this at home,” she said, punctuating the last words with one more kick, a bit softer and directed away from her. She leaned over for a top view, squinted, and gave the reactor a friendly pat.
The hum was gone.
“Back in business,” Andi said.
“I kind of expected something more dramatic. You know, a clock counting down, you sweating and trying to pick which wire to cut. Stuff like that,” I told her.
“Sorry to disappoint. Just a wonky housing and a good boot. We’re ready for the next part of the floor,” Andi said.
“Do you all want to go back to the first chamber, in case there’s something meaner than the salamanders waiting in this section?” I asked.
“It’s not a bad idea, but if we’re in there and you get in trouble . . .” Andi let the words trail off.
“Fair enough. Can you all safely hold onto the cable while I pop the hatch? Then if a six-legged velociraptor comes through, you can pull it off my corpse,” I said, grinning.
“What’s a velociraptor?” Silk asked, easily pronouncing the unfamiliar word.
“A cross between a chicken and a lizard, but meaner. They died out millions of years ago, but then again, nothing surprises me after the virus. Who knows what came out of the ooze, so to speak,” I said.
Future Reborn Box Set Page 40