Do Unto Others-ARC

by Michael Z. Williamson

  Then a huge cloud of dust led the fluid wave of broken rock and dirt right in front of them, right over them. A small rock clanged off the cab, then a larger one dented it, springing a seam and letting dust eddy in as air hissed out. The road and sky disappeared in a roiling, dirty brown cloud that spit chunks of ore and gravel. Jason stared at his hands, gauging the road by the attitude of the wheel. He puckered up tight, but there was nothing else to do.

  The view ahead cleared, wisps of gritty, agitated sand flying. He corrected his steering, not wishing to sideswipe the outer cliff face.

  Another oily wave of the same avalanche flowed ahead of them.

  The throttle was already floored, but he slammed it again and leaned into it. This crude vehicle had no capacitors to feed to the brakes, no wastegate to close, not much of anything. He picked the smoothest probable track and held the wheel to the right curve as they swept under a cascading shower of dun rubble.

  They were slowing down, and the wheels digging in, as dirt piled down on, under and around them. As it built up underneath the truck started to slip.

  He clenched the wheel and urged it on, leaning back as he forced the pedal down, hoping and gritting his teeth.

  Then they were through, the wave behind shooting over the ledge of the track and falling into the pit. Traction increased, the ride got bumpy, and Jason slacked off the throttle. Behind them, one chase vehicle was buried under kilotons of fill. They were going to die slowly if they didn't just yank hoses and choke fast, unless someone came out with a lot of heavy equipment and did a lot of digging starting right now.

  The other truck was nowhere to be seen. It had probably been swept over to bash on the level below.

  "You're good, Elke," he said, breathing out a breath he'd held the last two minutes.

  "So good I had nothing to do with that."

  "Er?"

  "I didn't set any charges. That was a lucky coincidence."

  "And you said to keep driving?"

  "It worked, didn't it?"

  He was starting to think that deadpan of hers was an act. It had to be. He'd seen her crack and be human on occasion.

  They all had their acts. It was part of their professional presentation. He shrugged and kept driving. He'd trusted her, it worked. She may have just estimated the fall rate well and figured the odds were in their favor. Or she may have figured the odds were better with the avalanche than with the thugs behind. Jason shivered and shook and clenched down to stop it. It would be ironic and embarrassing to die because jittery hands caused him to slip.

  Landslides were not that uncommon, with all the earth being displaced, large and small explosions, the vibration of massive equipment, tidal effects and even wind eddies. However, the recent civil war, since that's what it was, had greatly increased the scope and number of such events.

  So the radio frequencies were awash with inquiries, curses, shouts, demands for information and general ranting in English, Arabic, Russian, Spanish, Hindi, Chinese and probably Swahili. The miners were not happy, and it certainly wasn't an event to help discretion.

  Jason sharply asked, "Eyes. Is there anything that can intercept us?"

  Bart said, "We have clouds of dust. Hard to make visual."

  Alex said, "Clear downhill at least. Also rather sobering. It's a long drop."

  Elke's voice was very calm. "One vehicle above, in parallel course. No hostile movement. It could be reconning us."

  Nodding, he said, "Then we keep driving."

  Caron said, "This isn't the level we want."

  "What?" Jason asked. Crap.

  "We need to go down a level. That's an entire circuit."

  "At least it's down, not up. I thought this was the right level?"

  "So did I. I'm sorry."

  "No apologies. Shit happens. I guess we get to try debris braking."

  Aramis asked, "What do you have in mind?" His voice was tight.

  "I have nothing," Jason admitted. "Elke?"

  "I hate you," she said, and cursed in Czech, then German, then "Asshole," in American English. "I will need the back open and some kind of restraint. I will cut a relief. You will back down. Remember your steering will overcompensate. We are probably going to crash."

  She didn't say die in front of the client, but he heard a faint tremor.

  Aramis said, "Two hundred meters down."

  "Shut up, Aramis."

  Elke said, "Check masks. I'm opening hatch."

  Jason had airflow, so he was safe. "Check," he agreed. With a chorus, the others confirmed.

  Elke popped the hatch, stood wide and stable, knees bent, raised her shotgun and fired twice, the drum spinning to pick recon rounds. She dropped back down, yanked the hatch strap. It slammed and she ran a hand around to confirm seal.

  Jason saw the two slugs arc through the atmosphere leaving star-shaped, conical parabolas. Very pretty.

  The cameras in those were tiny, but adequate for what they were doing. Elke had the images on her visor. She brushed a control and was obviously searching and panning.

  "Two kilometers ahead. There's an area of partial slip, mostly small stuff. We'll do it there."

  "Thanks. Can you also distract those clowns following?"

  "I live to serve," she said, and climbed back up. She popped the hatch, tossed something from her harness, and dropped down once more. "Sensor mine," she said. "It might take off a wheel. Or not."

  "Anything helps, thanks. We're coming up on that spot."

  "Yes. See that sign marking the slip? Very convenient. Aramis, help me back, and hand me some cable."

  The back of the truck had a cargo area, currently littered with trash and tools. Elke popped the hatch and tossed the contents out. Aramis handed her a strap, and she threaded it around her shoulders and latched one end to an eye. Aramis twisted and tied the other end to a frame member.

  "And back, you say."

  "On my order, yes."

  Alex offered nothing. Jason caught his eye and his boss just shrugged. He seemed calm enough, or maybe just frozen. This was one of those things you couldn't think about. Caron whimpered again, with a soft sob. Aramis, Shaman and Bart just gripped frame and seats and looked scared.

  Jason swung the wheel, turned toward the wall, then backed slowly toward the drop. His sphincter puckered and spasmed at the idea.

  Elke said, "This is going to be a series, with a large blast. I will want you to back solidly over the ledge and then brake."

  "Over completely, then brake, understood." Oh, fuck me.

  He felt her shift and toss something. He gripped the wheel, foot on the pedal and ready to move.

  The blast wasn't large, but did throw debris that rained down and puffed in in a cloud.

  The second blast wasn't as loud, but he felt the ground shake. A little more rocky rain fell.

  The third charge lifted the rear of the vehicle with a loud, low Crump! He heard ground giving way and there was even some clattering rubble from in front, that bounced off the cliff ahead of him.

  "Now!" Elke shouted.

  He eased into the throttle quickly and smoothly, trying to stop his knees from wobbling and shaking. Then he stomped the brakes, as the truck angled, tilted, skidded and slipped. The road rose and disappeared above the screen, and they were tobogganing backward down 200 meters of quarry. He lost sensation in his hands from white-knuckling the wheel.

  "Drive forward to reduce slippage!" Elke said.

  "Forward!" he acknowledged, his voice cracking and squealing like a little girl. He ran the revs up and felt the wheels biting at the collapsing wave of gravel and stone, then slipping, rolling and churning through the entire planetary gear. To either side he could see the walls, with a cut above him. All the debris from that cut was underneath them. They were surfing on a falling column of rock, at about a sixty degree angle.

  His next concern was that at bottom, they might bounce straight over the next cut and down, there to smash and bounce and smash all the way to the bottom of
the pit, another 9000 meters down.

  "Halfway," Elke said. "When we near bottom you'll have to back left and hard. Not enough to roll."

  "Don't want much, do you?" he shouted.

  "Give me slight left now!" she said.

  "Slight left!" he confirmed and pulled the wheel.

  "Five seconds . . . three, two, TURN!"

  He leaned into the wheel and pulled, watching the cliff above turn at an angle and move to his left as he swung. It steadied a little, to less than forty-five degrees, and he slid down the mound of rubble. Less than thirty degrees, in two directions. They were stable enough.

  The road here was at least a hundred meters wide, and he had maneuvering room. He realized he was still holding a breath, and gasped and heaved.

  "We're down. Forward and over now," Elke said.

  "Yeah," he agreed. He engaged the gears and the wheel assemblies started them climbing up the slippery scree.

  "I think that took care of that prior pursuit," he said, feeling his arteries throb and pound in his head, his hands, his feet . . . his entire body shook and trembled from the most massive adrenaline dump he could remember.

  "There are others on this level, but they are looking for us to have gone over."

  Alex said, "Good, that will slow them down. Elke, Jason, that was fucking masterful."

  "Thanks," Jason said. He knew it was one for the books, but he was just glad it was over. "The wider road helped."

  "They're all wider," Caron said numbly.

  "Eh?"

  "Each level is decreasingly narrow, to provide maximum stability. Lower down they're hundreds of meters."

  "Oh. Makes sense."

  "We can carve away more as we go. When slips happen, an area is marked off. This one still has a couple of years of expansion planned, if the ore holds out."

  He realized she was talking to remind herself she was alive. He nodded, then because that would be hard to see, said, "Yes, I understand."

  Jason felt a relief unlike anything he'd felt before. They'd just used explosives and an all terrain vehicle to drop 200 meters almost straight down, while being shot at. It was too insane to grasp.

  And now he had a good 25 kilometers to drive forward, in noxious atmosphere under high pressure, under possible fire. He welcomed that.

  Aramis and Bart dragged Elke from the rear compartment. He glanced back and saw she was shivering uncontrollably. Probably delayed fear reaction. She'd been looking straight down as they fell, and directing. He didn't want to think about that.

  For both of them, they did what they had to when the alternative was to give up and die. That pretty much summed up their primary job qualification. Too stupid to give up.

  Still, while he had lead time, he should increase that lead. He ran the speed back up to 50, then pushed on to 70, then even to 90 kmh. What did it matter now?

  Everyone was silent for a few minutes, then Elke started mumbling, volume rising, until she was cursing loudly in Czech. He was considering saying something to her, when she suddenly announced, "Okay, I'm better," and shut up. She shimmied back up front into her seat again.

  "I think that's our destination there," he said. The panel lights looked dimmer than they had been.

  "Yes. Dark hole."

  Shaman asked, "Wouldn't something that would work as an emergency shelter be lit?"

  Shrugging, Jason said, "I would think so, but it's not really a shelter, just an entrance, and they wouldn't want people running into the cables."

  "There are the cables now," Elke said.

  Jason saw them. Huge towers with bulky cables running across and down.

  Caron said, "I'm not sure why it's not lit. Your reasoning is sound, though." She still sounded a bit distant.

  "I hope that's it," Jason said. "Power's dying." He killed the lights to save a few seconds of power, and slacked off the throttle. They weren't in imminent danger, and they'd need what they could get.

  "I thought they had plenty of charge?"

  "We took it from a maintenance bay. And, running flat out is not efficient and causes wheelspin. Then, we spun more as we came down that slope running balls out. We probably also damaged either the packs or the feeds in the process. Nope, this is as far as we go. The capacitor bank is drained." He was now increasing throttle to keep them moving. The capacitors ran at full strength until drained, but died fast once they were. He might squeeze a few more meters, but on foot would be faster.

  "We have about four hundred meters from here," Aramis said. "Run now."

  At once, they kicked doors open, hopped out and formed into a fireteam. Despite all the shocks and privations, Caron was still a pretty good runner. Shaman and Elke each took an arm and moved with her at a brisk pace. Jason and Bart led. Aramis and Alex brought up the rear.

  Aramis thought it felt more than 400 meters. Rough ground, limited feed rate on the oxygen, and the nasty atmosphere that itched and burned, since they weren't in full suits, made it a lot more than a sprint. Aramis gasped and rasped for breath. Ahead, the tunnel was dark and intimidating. There was just no way to know what was inside, with the sharp shadow cutting across it.

  They closed up and moved in, and the shadow became less prominent up close. Twenty meters out, Aramis could actually see for some distance. Then they were inside. The floor was cut smooth and slightly rounded, though debris made him slow to a walk. The walls were coarse with piles of collapsed rubble. This wasn't a frequently traveled route.

  Ahead, things got steadily darker. Lacking night vision, Jason pulled out a torch and dialed it slowly up until it gave enough illumination to see by. Their path was blocked.

  "Security door," Jason called. "Blast."

  Caron said, "Emergency ingress is on the right."

  Red button. So it was. Jason pressed it and a human door popped open.

  That got them a cubical with air in it. They were still not inside the powerplant proper.

  "What is that door made of?" Elke asked.

  Caron said, "High strength laminated composite and honeycombed ceramic to ablate any heat damage."

  "Thanks," Elke said emotionlessly. She was busy pulling something from her belt.

  Alex asked, "What the hell is—"

  "Tungsten bore rider. Saboted penetrator."

  She opened the action on her shotgun and dropped the regular ammo cassette, slid the shell home, worked the action and raised the gun as Aramis asked, "Is that a good—"

  The concussion felt like getting hit in the head with a sledgehammer, even with noise cancelling earbuds. It wasn't just the tight quarters. It rocked Elke back onto her rear foot, barrel pointing crazily upward and with a welt on her cheek where her thumb had caught it from the recoil.

  Whatever she'd fired had had balls. In fact, through a blur of pain, Aramis watched as she pulled out an empty metal cartridge that looked as if it was intended for artillery.

  There was a 15 centimeter hole right through the locking plate of the door.

  Jason looked groggy as he reached in with pliers and yanked on a metal rod. It groaned and moved and the door popped off its supports, being well-balanced even after that assault.

  "How many of those do you have?" Alex asked in what he probably thought was a quiet voice.

  "Two more," she loudly replied. "And two of my special anti-personnel rounds for when it gets ugly."

  Bart said, "They know we are here."

  Alex replied, "Now we are inside, though," as he pulled the door and let Aramis dart through.

  Yes, they'd been made, and one man was running toward them, one away, and one must be locked in the control room. Aramis went that way fast. He slung his carbine, raised his baton, and gave the charging man a 2000 lumen flash followed by a jolt of electricity.

  That individual recoiled, grunted and left the fight in favor of a nap.

  Bart and Jason sprinted past, heading for the fleeing operator. Jason dropped to one knee and fired. The reports were much less unpleasant here, and echoed strang
ely off into phase-cancelled tinny pings echoing from the far reaches of the cavern.

  Aramis could hear the rest close behind him as he charged down the ramp, leapt across a gap and swarmed up the stairs. He stepped just enough aside to let Elke cut loose with a standard breacher round, kicked the smoking door as she pulled back, and took the man at the controls in a low tackle that crashed them both into the steel base of a control board.

  Shaman whipped out his kit and commented, "Shift change is in three hours." He slid the needle into the struggling, groggy operator's shoulder, and the man cursed as he collapsed.

  "We might not get that long."

  "It's our upper limit, of course."

  "Who'd you shoot?" Aramis asked Jason.

  "No one. I shot the commo line."

  "Wow. Nice shooting."

  "Not really. I needed three shots." Jason sounded disgusted, but that was a centimeter wide target and he'd been using a carbine after a sprint and a concussion and another sprint. If he was unhappy with that level of shooting, Aramis was very glad they were on the same side.

  "Now let me in," Jason said.

  "Sure. What's up?"

  Jason stopped in front of the controls and glanced over the screens.

  "First thing is to make sure nothing affects the power. Commo out is bothersome, but wires do break. Fluctuations in power get a panic reaction. We need this to stay steady—" he reached over and tapped a function of some kind, "—while we get out of here and where we have more cover. Though I'm sure they're going to expect us now."

  "As long as they can't stop us," Aramis said.

  Alex jogged over, "Move it asap. Ontos says they can force through that section, but they need a timeframe to get stuff in place."

  "That's going to be interesting," Aramis wondered.

  "Ready," Jason said, and jumped out. Heights obviously didn't bother him too much.

  They jogged down the ramp from the control room, across the airspace around the reactor, which was more bare stone, only some kind of agate. Where it was sheared smooth was just beautiful in waves and shimmering translucent colors bouncing the torch beams back at them. That would be something to talk about later. Then they were climbing another ramp that was rather rough, at an angle to the trolley, which was basically a powered flatbed with seats. They used all four, with Bart sprawled across the back, Elke dangling her legs off the front with her shotgun on her lap, and Caron sitting on Alex' lap.