Arnaud opened his eyes some time later to find he was being carried, but as he didn’t think he could get his legs to work, he was hardly in a position to complain.
8.
BARELY A CADAVER. Nathanial had seen many grim sights in his travels, but he would have taken any of them over what his eyes now saw. The mutilated remains of a body; crumbled bones and viscera. He gagged at the stench.
He closed his eyes, and saw another horror. A house alight with flames, and in the top window a charred body pointing at him accusingly. Edwin. His brother.
And now Arnaud…
Nathanial turned away, and would have fallen if not for the strong arms of Flint. “It… It looks like he’s been eaten.”
“An ore processor will do that, Professor,” Flint said.
The room began to spin around him. Nathanial knew he had to get out. He didn’t care where, just out. Away from all of this. He couldn’t know this anymore.
“I’m done,” he said, his voice cracking. “Done with all of this death.”
Chapter Five
“Point of No Return”
1.
THE SICKNESS THIS time kept Arnaud off his feet for longer than before, but when he recovered he felt stronger than he had at any other time. Perhaps he could still beat this thing.
Minos had brought him water and even helped him sit up so he could eat some of the prepared snail, although the Bubalus always made a great show of looking the other way when he did. The time spent lying down had given Arnaud nothing to do but sleep and, when not sleeping, examine the minerals he had found. It was only when Minos arrived with fresh water, but refused to approach while Arnaud sat with the minerals spread out around him, that he made a discovery.
“They’re just rocks,” Arnaud said. It pained him to call them such—these were far from just rocks and many were exciting finds—but he couldn’t hope Minos would understand that. The only response was Minos curling his lips back from his teeth. Confused, tired, aching all over, and decidedly not in the mood to deal with the Bubalus’ stubbornness when all he could think of was the taste of cool, fresh water, Arnaud struggled to hold on to the scientific part of his intellect. What was Minos afraid of? Why would he not approach?
Taking up the minerals one at a time, Arnaud held them out in turn. He was about to give up having invoked no reaction, when Minos recoiled. A growl trickled out of his throat, erupting into a full blown snarl. Afraid he was about to be eaten, Arnaud shoved the offending stone into a pocket and then quickly gathered the rest, shoving them under a nearby pile of leaves and clothes. Once the minerals were out of sight, he got his water, but for the first time, Minos remained distinctly unhappy.
The Bubalus made to withdraw and then paused. Those eyes that were so dark as to appear almost black, stared straight at Arnaud. The beast entwined the fingers of both hands together into a single fist, tapped them against its chest, and bowed. Arnaud was so startled, by the time he thought of reacting, Minos had gone.
He’d seen such gestures before, usually performed with both hands wrapped around a spear at the end of a hunt or when one of their number had done something hazardous.
Reaching into his pocket, Arnaud drew out the stone that had upset Minos so. Dark, smoky brown quartz. Clearly, the Bubalus didn’t like them. This was the same mineral he had found with the skeletal remains, and logic dictated that they were the reason the Bubalus hadn’t touched those bodies. Had the men been removing them? Were these stones the reason Arnaud was still alive?
That didn’t explain who those men were or why they had died, but he might never know the answer to that. Although his inquisitive mind found it hard to accept, he put the question aside to concentrate on the quartz. It did have a certain…tactile quality. A small point of golden light gleamed in its depths. Although doing so with the mere use of his thumb and index finger would take many years to buff it, he couldn’t help wondering how the stone would look cut, shaped and polished. Setting aside other unknown properties the rock might have, he wondered whether it would be worthy of a gem? Suitable for a ring?
Aware of stroking the quartz, he was heedless of the smile on his face or where the image of a ring led his thoughts until one name blazed brightly. Nathanial. He almost cast the mineral aside in disgust. Such things were impossible, but…a token of affection? Something simpler? Maybe that would be allowed, but he would give up all the sentimental trappings in the world to know for certain he would see Nathanial again.
His mind was wandering. He grew tired. He would have to set his query aside. Still, one question drove him crazy and even followed him down into sleep. “Why would Minos think me brave?”
He almost drifted off again when the act of swallowing hurt his throat. Water. Drink.
Fighting fatigue, Arnaud pushed up with one hand, his need to drink outweighing other pains so that he ignored the sharp sensation in the palm of his hand. Thirst quenched, he looked for the cause, only mildly surprised. Of course: the quartz. He’d almost fallen asleep holding the stone that had frightened Minos.
Mon dieu!
What if the stones tired him? There was no doubt the insect bites had made him ill, but if the Bubalus were afraid of these stones maybe there was a good reason. Thinking back was difficult, but the first thing to do was to put the quartz away. Arnaud did, and then sat there trying to organise the pattern of events. Times he’d felt most ill, what he’d been doing on days when he was tired. As his head cleared he realised this was not the first time he had noticed that the brown minerals had a fatiguing effect, but coupled with the disease and moments when his concentration waned, it had taken him until now to connect the details.
He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the thought that the Bubalus let him live because they were scared of him. Was it a form of worship or did they think him too crazy to eat? Simply poisonous? Did it matter? Arnaud had other worries on his mind.
For now the stones had stopped the natives from eating him, but even wrapped up, what were the long term effects?
Then there was Minos. Was the Bubalus watching him out of curiosity or for some more nefarious reason? While he learned about them, might they not be learning of him? Despite the earlier show of respect, Minos displayed a greater show of emotion than the others. Should the time come when Minos tried to test him, Arnaud had no idea what he would do.
2.
CALLAGHAN HATED THESE deeper corridors. He couldn’t let it show, of course. Couldn’t let the men with him know he was spooked.
Anyone exploring while studying a schematic would have no problems working out this section went on far longer than it should. The lack of light helped to keep away the curious.
“Lift the lantern there!” Callaghan snapped to the man carrying it. A chill made him shiver and he gave a thought to ghosts.
Straining to see as well as keep a steady nerve, Callaghan almost walked into the hatch. Despite the need for haste, he was mindful of rough and sharp edges.
“Lend a hand there.” Were the men as reluctant as he to open this thing? He thought of going back. Better to let Fontaine rot down here, but Blayney was right—they could not guarantee he was dead, and the Frenchman needed to die. Callaghan almost wanted to kill him just because of the predicament he faced. He feared his boss as much as what was on the other side of the hatch. How had the Frenchman found his way down here, anyway? Where had he thought he was escaping to?
The bar holding the hatch in place turned. A sliver of light broke through. Blinking to adjust his vision, Callaghan opened the door to an interior world. Looking back at the men, he said; “Are you lot ready for this?” Without waiting for a reply, he stepped out into a landscape of ice.
3.
FOLKARD HAD RETURNED from his fool’s errand about an hour ago, and since then he failed to find either Stone or Blayney. He had, however, located Miss Annabelle, in the infirmary. She had insisted on coming with him to find Blayney, but both he and Messor’s medic refused her. Her mechanica
l leg was still damaged from Koivunen’s attack, although it seemed to be working slightly thanks to the technical know-how of Mister Wendt, and the bruise on her cheek had transformed into a nice welt. Doctor Mason had attached a Ceren slug to the wound, to prevent infection. The ring Koivunen wore had been rusty, and covered in all kinds of dirt from mining.
Before leaving Folkard thanked Wendt. “What of that Finnish chap? I don’t suppose a good thrashing is out of order,” Folkard said, once he had taken Wendt aside.
“It is being taken care of.”
“Capital.” Folkard looked back at Annabelle. Bedford would not be happy about this; Miss Annabelle’s care had been given over to Folkard explicitly, not that she would agree, of course. “I rather feel like swinging the cat his way myself, but I think it’s high time I had a few words with the scoundrel who runs this place.”
“Ich bin einverstanden,” Wendt said. “The Kaiser would have him put to death for his inaction.”
Folkard raised an eyebrow. “We shall see,” he said, and bid Wendt goodbye, thinking that death was too kind a punishment for someone who allowed rapists to walk free.
4.
“THIS IS POINTLESS. He must have frozen to death by now.”
It warmed Callaghan to hear that the other men were beginning to sound as disgruntled as he felt. All very well for Blayney to say go hunt down the Frenchman, but the area was vast to a man on foot.
He was damn cold. He was getting tired. There was no sign of Fontaine, or Cadogan, or any of the men who had gone with him. Callaghan was relying on at least finding some remains as an indication of what had happened here. He’d held out some small hope Cadogan was alive. If he could have taken the man back to his boss, returned Blayney’s friend, he’d have curried favour with him. Of course, if Cadogan were still alive he’d have been pounding to get out, at least tried to stay near the entrance, if he had any sense. Although—Callaghan looked around—the chances were indeed that by this time he would have frozen to death. Still, he wasn’t looking forward to returning without news of Cadogan or Fontaine.
“I don’t like it here,” another man said. “Did you see those webs back there? Unnatural, that’s what.”
Could that be what had happened to the men? Had Cadogan, the fool, kept at it, chasing Fontaine down? If he’d blundered into the webs… Callaghan shuddered, hoping if the men noticed they would take it for his being cold. He didn’t know what had spun those webs, but much like everything else down here, he could understand why they inspired the creeps.
At least the webs were easily avoided. As long as one didn’t do a mad dash through the trees and kept to the more open spaces there was no risk. They were strung, Callaghan suspected, to catch the birds as they swooped, and he didn’t want to think what type of spider was large enough to eat a bird.
Pity he couldn’t catch a few of the birds himself. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had chicken and it would make a change from beef, but food on the hoof was easier.
Speaking of…
Callaghan gestured with his head, although the other men had gone silent and obviously spotted the small herd of young cattle, too. “I don’t know about you lot, but I suggest we get out of here.”
“Blayney won’t be pleased,” Wright said.
“That’s why we’ll take those back with us.”
He gave Wright a nod. The men spread out. Callaghan would get closest then direct the rest. It would be better if this small herd had been closer to the entrance but it wasn’t far; he didn’t see a problem.
He signalled and swung the pickaxe, even as one of the herd noticed him and bleated. It didn’t take long to silence the rest.
“Callaghan!”
He was turning even as he heard his name. From out of the bushes a large beast came. Off to the side he heard the cry of another.
“What do we do?”
Was Wright joking? “Get back to the entrance.” Blayney sometimes accused him of not being the brightest of men, but Callaghan knew when to run.
5.
THE FIRST INKLING Arnaud had that anything was amiss was when several Bubalus females hurried past him. He’d grown quite used to them keeping their distance and even his segregation from their children. For all he knew their behaviour was some form of social etiquette of their race that he could never hope to understand. It could equally be owing to the Bubalus’ dislike of the minerals and the obvious side-effects. That several females would willingly pass close by was surprising enough. For their children to follow—herded by their parents—had him on his feet at once. Only as one of the females snarled did he realise that the sudden movement could be construed as hostile. He took a step back, putting distance between them.
More Bubalus—mostly young, female, injured or old—were wending into the back of the caves. The adult males also crowded into the entrance, but they spared no more time than it took to snatch up spears and head out again. Even some of the females joined them.
A wild anticipation sped through Arnaud—one that he was instantly ashamed of. The daily grind of survival, foraging, maintaining his health had hereto only been broken up with the time spent sleeping or in the study of minerals. While Arnaud had made many finds, he lacked the materials with which to experiment or even make notes. He had plenty of specimens but now longed for a laboratory. Existence had become…dull. Here was excitement. Some change to the usual routine. He could not deny that the very thought swept through his fatigue.
He’d taken several steps before he hesitated. What if he had the chance to slip away or he was being rescued? Too much to hope for perhaps, but he could not discount the possibility. Besides, what was he thinking? He’d almost gone outside without a coat and that would never do. Returning to his possessions, Arnaud dressed quickly. He packed his samples into the largest of his bags, and slipped it over his head, slinging the weight across his body. In that short time the processions both going in and out of the entrance had lessened and Arnaud was able to join them without getting in anyone’s way or attracting any glances. Whatever had happened, clearly the Bubalus had other things besides Arnaud on their minds.
Despite his excitement he began to lag. Perhaps if he left the bag somewhere he could return for it later.
Even as Arnaud had the thought he dismissed it. He didn’t know what had happened, or what he faced ahead. As more Bubalus trotted passed him he had to admit defeat and slow his pace. At first he’d tried to match their strides but quickly realised this was impossible. He tried running at a slower, steadier pace, but he was not as strong as he had been a few weeks back when he’d arrived here. He swiftly fell behind.
It was a strange feeling to be amid a group of Bubalus and then to have them move ahead, the pounding of their feet diminishing, a now familiar silence descending.
Only the world wasn’t silent. It was filled with small snaps and pings, soft whispering, and the sound of dripping, and the crunch of the gritty ice sand under his boots. Arnaud had always considered that he was alone on his excursions, even though he knew the Bubalus watched him, but he’d not been alone at all. This was an entire system of interacting organisms, as alive and flourishing as any of that on Earth. He’d forgot to feel humbled, awed, by this experience, but he supposed that could be forgiven. A prison was a prison, and he’d not known whether he’d see another human being again to tell them of it.
The thought of rescue, liberation, redoubled his efforts, but still Arnaud was unable to pick up speed for long. To his horror, he found he was blinking back tears. Frustration to be certain, but what if this was his one chance and he missed out on freedom because he’d grown too weak in the intervening weeks?
Give up the samples.
That was like telling a librarian to give up his books or… Arnaud laughed aloud, wiping tears of merriment now from his eyes. It was akin to asking Nathanial to give up his experiments. Non. For now he would soldier on. Only if he grew too tired…
Arnaud spun, the sudden awareness of thu
ndering hooves speeding his pulse. Several more Bubalus passed him at a run. Their gazes were intent and set—they were definitely heading in the direction of the main entrance—spears held horizontal to their bodies, grips almost light and casual. Although he’d known they carried them, the sight of Minos among the pack, holding a similar weapon chilled Arnaud. Then Minos was past him, Arnaud turning to follow his movement.
Yet another surprise in a long list to add to the day, Minos slowed, and as he fell to the back of the chasing group, he stopped and turned to look at Arnaud. It took Minos only a few steps to reach Arnaud, pick him up, and fling him over his shoulder.
Chapter Six
“Upping the Ante”
1.
HE LOOKED DREADFUL. Something very bad had happened, so bad that it brought that haunted look back to the fore of Nathanial’s eyes. Annabelle had not felt it so keenly since they had met in Dumba’s office at the Austrian Embassy in London, shortly after his brother had died.
She turned to Doctor Mason, and asked for some privacy. Mason was clearly put out by this, but after seeing the look on Nathanial’s face, he agreed and pulled a curtain around them.
“Nathanial, where have you been? Jacob has been looking for you. He received a message from Hygeia; Arnaud is not there. Hasn’t been for…” She paused. His eyes glistened at the mention of Arnaud. Annabelle threw her legs over the side of the bed, straightened her dress, and patted the space beside her. “Tell me, what has happened?”
For a second he remained standing there, looked around as if lost, then rested his eyes on Annabelle. “He is dead.” The words came out hollow, bereft of feeling.
“Who? Arnaud?” Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh my! Nathanial, how did…?” She did not know what to say, but in her mind’s eyes she saw that funny little Frenchman in his lab on Mercury. The first time they met he had kissed her on both cheeks, the familiarity so very French. “He called me ‘enchanting’, do you remember that?”
Mundus Cerialis Page 9