by James Axler
Ryan and Mark had only just finished their briefing when Jak arrived back; his absence had not concerned Ryan, as Jak had already been told the extent of the plans and was not likely to forget. Of all of them, he had a mind that was as safe as a steel trap for such matters. Besides which, his information and reconnaissance was far more important.
‘Not bad like expected,’ he said, starting without preamble. ‘Cover drops to nothing at fifty yards, but enough conceal. No sign sec this side. Mebbe beyond. Open space about a hundred yards. No cover at all—earth hard, no grass. Good footing run fast.’
Ryan nodded shortly. It sounded as though there was little to fear as long as they could cover the ground swiftly. Any offensive would be mounted on the far side of the maze.
‘Okay, let’s do it. No point in wasting any more time.’
‘One thing,’ Jak said, staying him with a hand before they set off. ‘Smells bad—like end of a good hunt. Smell fear and chilling. We need be triple careful in there.’
‘I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Ryan replied. ‘Just got to ignore that and be ready to shoot shit out of anything that gets in our way.’
‘That’s what call plan.’ Jak grinned.
They covered the remaining ground at a fast pace, eating up the distance, assured that they would encounter nothing this side of the maze. But still it paid to be cautious, so they pulled up as the foliage began to grow more and more sparse, taking what little cover there was as the woodlands gave way to the poisoned earth.
Ryan had determined that his cluster would be the last to make the run for the head of the maze. It was his responsibility to provide cover for his people until the last. He would send Jak’s cluster in second, with Lemur and Cyran protected by the albino and Mark. Which just left him with the choice of J.B. or Mildred to go in first.
It had to be the Armorer. J.B. wasn’t used to being point man, but overall he had the strongest team of fighters. Ryan had been able to observe and assess their part in the earlier fight while he and J.B. were taking their places in the treetops. Mildred had a weak link in Affinity. The young man had heart, but he was a clumsy mover and perhaps not suited to being a fighter. He would try, but his technique was poor, and if Ryan had to bet jack on anyone buying the farm in a battle, it would be the lanky youth.
Ryan gave them the order of action, and J.B. prepared to lead his men across the empty space. A hundred yards now loomed like a hundred miles, such was the lack of cover. The sun beat down on the parched earth like a spotlight, waiting for them to step into it and become easy targets.
‘Check blasters,’ J.B. ordered. His three-man team was carrying remade Brownings and Lugers—heavy handblasters—and they checked they had full clips and a round was chambered. Satisfied that his men were ready, he gave a short nod. ‘On three, go…One…two…three…’
The Armorer barked the last number in a throaty tone, flinging himself forward, eyes flickering side-to-side as he ran in an irregular pattern across the empty space. The three Memphis men followed on his heels, distancing themselves enough to make a spread target, also varying their line, keeping low and always keeping their target in sight.
The walls of the maze loomed ahead of the Armorer. From a distance, it hadn’t seemed that much, but as he approached the huge white slab of stone, which on closer view revealed itself to be a wall constructed of seamlessly joined smaller blocks, grew in stature, so that it seemed to fill his field of vision and impose itself as some kind of crushing monolith, a forbidding presence through which no man could pass.
J.B. slammed up against the wall, back to the stone that was cold even in the heat of the late-morning sun. He was blowing hard, sweat spangling his brow and trickling from under the rim of his fedora. He clutched the mini-Uzi across his chest and watched the horizon as his three men came hot on his heels.
They, too, were blowing hard when they hit the wall, backing against it. Up close, the white stone betrayed signs of weathering. There was some erosion from the acid rains, and the toxins in the parched earth beneath had discolored the stone, brown and black stains creeping up in tendrils.
There was one entrance, about four yards to J.B.’s right. Otherwise, the wall was blank for the entire length. He guessed that there may be an entrance on each side, similarly placed. You could access the maze from any direction because unless you knew exactly how it was laid out on the inside, chances were that you wouldn’t make it all the way through. And it was up to him to try to buck the odds.
‘Dark night, I guess no one said it was going to be easy,’ he murmured to himself. ‘Got the yarn?’ he asked in a louder voice to one of his men. A weather-beaten man with scarred hands produced the ball and nodded. Mouth too dry to speak, J.B. figured. He didn’t blame him. ‘Let’s do it,’ he said out loud.
As the Armorer edged toward the entrance, mini-Uzi now at a perpendicular angle to his body, the smell hit him. It was cold, dank and reeked of buying the farm. The gap beyond the entrance yawned darkly. The movable walls were housed within a roofed structure. Whoever planned this knew what they were doing: darkness, danger, no light to see and the claustrophobia and disorientation of not being able to direct by the sun or stars above. It would be all too easy to lose a sense of direction, double back on yourself, become confused.
He cursed the mind that had conceived this pesthole, then took a deep breath and plunged into the unknown.
JAK TOOK HIS TEAM across the open space even as J.B. was entering the labyrinthine abyss. The albino focused on moving fast, casting glances over his shoulder to check that Lemur and Cyran were following close behind. Although his wife was surprisingly fast for someone who had shown little if any sign of physical aptitude before insisting on accompanying them, it was the Memphis leader who was having a little trouble. He was a heavyset man, and although he had shown stamina, speed wasn’t his forte. He was starting to lag, and Mark dropped back to cover him, even moving close and taking his arm to guide and encourage him to greater speed.
Jak looked back with concern when he reached the wall. Cyran was already joining him, but the other two had dropped back so far that Mildred’s team had already started their run. Cursing inwardly, Jak indicated to Cyran that they should enter.
‘Not without my husband,’ she said sharply. ‘He’ll be fine once we’re in the maze.’
Jak shrugged. His allotted task was to cover their backs, not argue. But he felt sure that this would cause problems later if another burst of speed was needed. What if they should need to move fast when negotiating the scorched earth on the far side of the maze? It was just something that he would have to deal with if and when. First they had to get through here.
Mark and Lemur had arrived. The Memphis leader was red-faced, sweating, blowing hard, breath coming in rasps. ‘Not…used to…running,’ he gasped. ‘Better…at the stealth thing,’ he added in a wheezing breath.
‘Mebbe what we’ll need,’ Jak commented, wasting no time in leading them into the labyrinth, noting the direction of J.B.’s white yarn.
MILDRED AND AFFINITY easily outdistanced the other two members of their team, hitting the wall at the same time.
‘Boy, you’ve got some speed,’ she gasped.
‘Truly, it is amazing what fear can do,’ the lanky youth said with a wry grin.
Mildred knew that he wasn’t the best fighter in her team, but she had warmed to the young man. He was a born trier, but he also knew his limitations, and wisely let them work for him rather than push against them. This would make him a calm head in a crisis, and she was sure there would be a few of those before they had reached the end of the day.
The other two fighters reached the wall, gasping for breath.
‘I’ll fight any man or beast, but I doubt if I could do that again for some time,’ panted one of them, a stocky man with heavy upper body development and a jagged scar running down his right cheek. He wasn’t an athlete, so it was little surprise that this part of the assault had proved the most dif
ficult for him. His companion, taller and slighter, but with more of a gut from an easier life, clapped him on the shoulder.
‘I agree,’ he gasped, ‘whatever dangers we may face in the maze, at least we know they are there. Running without knowing if a shot or a blade may come out of nowhere. That is worse.’
‘Boys, I’d save that judgment until we’re on the inside,’ Mildred said, producing her ball of yarn. ‘Now what do you say we get with it before boss man Ryan’s up our ass wondering why we’re still standing here like half-wits.’
Affinity gave her an askance look. ‘I don’t understand how you can travel with someone like Dr. Tanner, who is so comprehensible, and yet be so baffling?’
‘’ Cause Doc’s as crazy as they come, and I’m just trying to keep it real.’ Mildred grinned, noting on seeing his confused reaction, ‘Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get this thing going.’
RYAN HAD NOTED with no little satisfaction that the three teams had made it across the open ground with no hint of opposing fire; nothing, in fact, to suggest that they were being overlooked in any way. Although he had been ready with the Steyr to provide covering fire, the rest of his team poised with their heavy handblasters, there had been no need for him to click out of standby mode.
Without even referring to his wrist chron, he had mentally counted off thirty seconds since Mildred’s team had begun its dash across open ground. They were now about to enter the maze, following the first two teams, who had successfully negotiated stage one.
Time to move. Ryan shouldered the Steyr and turned to the three men whose faces were writ with a mixture of fear and adrenaline-pumped excitement.
‘Let’s go,’ he said simply. ‘Keep low, keep triple fast, and remember that we’ve got no one covering our asses.’ Fireblast, if that doesn’t make them move, nothing will, he added to himself.
Ryan counted off and led the charge. Breathing hard and deep, he could feel the blood pumping as his feet hit the ground in a loping, lazy stride. He had always been a good runner, which was about more than fitness; it was about having a sense of balance that enabled you to adjust to changes in the terrain without breaking stride and losing rhythm. For the few seconds that he was in the open, he forgot about everything except the flow of energy through his frame, powering from his midriff down his thighs and calves, driving his lower body while his upper moved with economy, keeping his center of gravity as low as possible.
Before he even had time to think, he was at the wall. Turning, he could see that his team had done well; they were only a few strides behind him.
‘Okay, people, let’s not waste time,’ he said without a hint of the effort expended.
Insuring that that their yarn marker was ready to pay out, and noting the three lines left by the other teams, Ryan took a deep breath and ventured into the darkness.
‘WE CAN’T JUST SIT around here doing nothing, waiting for whatever that creep has lined up for us,’ Krysty ranted, pacing the floor. ‘I don’t think that we’re on our own anymore. They’re alive, and they’re coming straight into a trap. And what are we doing? Nothing…just waiting for whatever Odyssey has in store for us.’
‘So you keep repeating.’ Doc sighed. ‘But in truth, I have no idea what you think we can do about this.’
‘We could try to get out,’ she said, walking over to the door and examining the lock. ‘I was trying to get a look at Odyssey when he was using them, but you kept getting in the way. Sometimes I wonder what you’re thinking,’ she added.
‘I apologize for any inconvenience I may have caused,’ Doc replied archly. ‘However, if you feel I am up to the task, I could always try to open the locks for you. I was close last time.’
‘Close isn’t enough, but I guess it’s all we’ve got.’
Doc stood and joined her by the door, bending over the lock. In truth, he had long since cracked the code. For a time it had made no sense, but it was one of those things that, once discovered, seemed so astoundingly easy that you wonder why you didn’t guess it sooner. Certainly, Doc felt that way, having realized that the combinations on each door that they had passed through differed slightly and were incrementally increased binary and tertiary codes based on lines of color. This particular lock, being the one he had chanced to crack himself, had been the key. Like Krysty, he had been observing Odyssey as he locked and unlocked each door they passed through. Unlike Krysty, he had caught the codes and knew how they would work, and—by extension—how he could operate those locks they had yet to encounter. In truth, he hadn’t wanted Krysty to see the combinations. For he was unsure if he wanted them to escape.
Thoughts ran wild, emotion rampant and confused in Doc’s mind. The timing of the raid on Atlantis couldn’t have been worse from his point of view. Odyssey had been on the brink of offering up some great secret. Would that have been the kind of secret Doc was hoping to be revealed to him? Or would it be another let-down? He had no idea what form it took, but if Odyssey was the man he had been hoping, then the revelation could have been the very thing he sought.
Now it had been snatched from him before he’d even had the chance to find out. If only he could find some way to take it back…
Yet, at the same time, he was heartened to realize that his companions may not have bought the farm. He could see in Krysty’s flashing eyes and agitated state how much this meant to her. It was a meaning that was echoed within him. There was a very large part of him that wanted to effect an escape so that he and his companion could join with them once more and fight.
He had to find balance within himself. The conflicting impulses were making his temples pound, his forehead throb. It was as though they were battering at his skull, punching behind his eyes with a force that flashed lights in front of him. It was all he could do to not let this raging torrent of clashing emotion show.
If only he could make some kind of compromise, both in the situation and within himself. To try to effect escape and yet at the same time trust to fate, and hope that Odyssey would return to take them to whatever it was that he had first intended, before he’d been distracted by his sec chief.
It was something that would make no sense to anyone other than a man drowning in contradiction, grasping at the straw of compromise. To appease one half of him while at the same time allowing fate all the opportunity it could require.
Doc began to unlock the door. He spun the colored stones, sometimes hitting one line correctly, but delaying the soft click of the bolts by spinning another out of sync. He was careful, making every move seem as though it was carefully considered, even though he had no doubts about each and every action.
Krysty was looking over his shoulder. He could feel her breath hot on his neck, could smell her sweetness. How could he betray her? But was it betrayal when he would, eventually, release the lock?
‘Come on, Doc, you’re almost there,’ she whispered in his ear, encouraging him.
He felt more confused and weak than ever. How could he even consider doing this to her? Yet part of him screamed that he should stop right now, walk away and wait for Odyssey to return.
It was a course of action that he couldn’t take. He spun the last two rows of stones until they formed the coded pattern that he had previously established. There was a soft and satisfying click as the stone bolts slid back.
‘Gaia, you’ve done it, Doc,’ Krysty breathed wondrously. ‘You’ve cracked it. Think they all have the same combination?’
‘I very much doubt it,’ he said carefully, ‘however, I would wager that they all operate on a similar pattern to the cryptograph I have just stumbled upon.’
She clapped him on the back. ‘That’s all I need to hear, Doc. Come on, we’ve got a hell of a way to go until we’re out of here.’
‘Indeed, we have,’ Doc echoed, trying to keep the doubt and confusion from his voice as he followed her cautiously into the corridor beyond.
Chapter Sixteen
Mildred had to hand it to whichever of the Odysseys had
built this hellhole. If his aim had been to produce a rancid, dark, nerve-tearing puzzle with possibly fatal danger lurking around each corner, then he had more than successfully achieved that aim. She could feel the sweat pouring off her, despite the fact that the thick stone walls kept the enclosed space cooler than the outside.
She wasn’t alone in her estimation. Affinity whispered in her ear, ‘I would rather face a battalion of Nightcrawlers unarmed than ever have to do this again.’
Mildred turned on him, trying to stop her heart from racing. ‘Boy, you ever do that again and you won’t have to worry about doing anything ever again,’ she whispered.
The look of surprise in the youth’s eyes, and the way in which his jaw sagged at this sudden display of anger showed that he had no idea that she would be so tense and that he would surprise her in such a manner.
‘Don’t look like that, son. You’ll catch some real nasty insects in here. Maybe I shouldn’t have reacted like that, but hell, don’t ever sneak up on someone who’s expecting trouble. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?’
‘They have now,’ he muttered, almost to himself.
Mildred allowed herself the flicker of a grin as she turned away. In truth, Affinity had inadvertently done the right thing. She had been a little too uptight up to this point, and perhaps resultantly a little too quick to overreact; something that could be as dangerous as not reacting quickly enough. But the atmosphere in the maze was getting to her.
Enclosing the movable sections within a structure that, in effect, formed an above-ground tunnel around the ville, with only one—maybe four if there were similar doorways on each side—small egress, had converted this into an oppressive hole. There was no way that air could circulate freely, so that contained within was barely breathable in the more enclosed sections, where the walls formed tight dead ends and cul-de-sacs. Foul air, stagnant and also tainted with the musk of the animals that lurked within the labyrinth. More than that, with the charnel house stink of those who hadn’t made it through the maze in one piece, and had either fallen prey to the animals or had been left to rot in the traps that had chilled them.