by Greig Beck
He turned back to the soldiers. “Hoy!” They assembled and he led them down the river cave.
*
PLA commandos Han Biao and Liu Yandong jogged along the riverbank and then out of sight around the bend in the cave.
“Slow now,” Liu said as he began to walk.
“But Captain Yang said a hundred feet; we are only about half that,” Han Biao responded, not caring for Liu’s tone.
“Yang isn’t here. They take a break while we run in the dark. You run if you want.” Liu held up the only flashlight, moving the beam over the bank and walls.
Beneath their boots, the black sand scrunched and squeaked, and stuck to the iron lace holes in their boots. Beside them the water made little sound except for the occasional plink or gurgle as a tiny wave splashed up against the cave sides.
Liu shined the light on the far wall and it wetly reflected his beam back at them. “This stream has probably been traveling like this, far below the ground, for millions of years. It has probably never seen the sun.” He pointed the light at Han. “Do you think we will find our way out?”
Han held a hand up to block his colleague’s light. “If the water can find a way out, then we can too.” He turned away, rubbing at a spot on his shoulder where the toughened uniform material was torn from the previous cave-in. He rolled his shoulder, feeling the abrasion there, and knowing he carried several more cuts and contusions underneath his clothes. When they next rested, he would need to attend to his wounds. If his wounds became infected and he became too ill to walk, he doubted Yang would suggest he be carried.
Liu nodded. “I hope so.” He dropped the circle light from Han Biao. “I would hate to have to eat you when we ran out of food.”
Han Biao grinned. “I think we will all be eating Changlong, he is the fattest of all of us.”
Liu stared back along the watercourse. After a moment, his words were softer. “Maybe we should have tried to dig our way back out of the tunnel at the cave-in. At least we’d know where we were then.”
Han Biao sighed, and then shook his head. “I think it collapsed for dozens of feet, and some of the rocks were big as trucks. You would need dynamite, and after a cave-in like that, who would dare use explosives? We will either find a new way out, or …”
“We eat Changlong.” Liu scoffed softly. “Or we go mad in the dark.” He turned away. “Let’s go.”
Up ahead the tunnel curved and their riverbank ended, making the opposite side of the watercourse the one with the dry bank. The men stopped and Liu walked a few feet into the water and held the flashlight out and down. “I don’t think it’s too deep. We will need to cross.” He motioned with the light. “Go across and scout around the bend.”
Han Biao thought briefly about arguing over who should cross, but he knew that sooner or later they all would need to, so he immediately waded into the ink-black water, heading for the opposite bank.
The river wasn’t broad, no more than thirty feet across, and even though the ambient temperature was quite warm, Han Biao didn’t relish the idea of getting soaked. But, his next step plunged him to his chest, and the icy water flowed up and around him, with just a blanket of warmth on his face. He cursed, hearing Liu bray with laughter.
At least the coolness bathed his numerous cuts and abrasions, and hopefully the pristine cave water washed them clean of any debris that had stuck to the wounds. He held his hands up and bounced now, his buoyancy allowing jumps across the languid current, as his feet squished in a slimy mud at the bottom.
In another few moments, he had left the water and strode up on the far bank, stamping his wet boots. He could see that this shoreline was unbroken for as long as the light could reach.
“It continues on. We will travel from here now.” Han Biao sat and unlaced his boots, pulling one off and upending it.
Liu quickly waded across, avoiding the hole that Han Biao had stepped into. In a moment he came up the bank, and sat next to his friend.
“We wait for them.” Liu switched off his light.
Han Biao nodded, and sat shivering from the cold, and then held himself in check, not wanting Captain Yang to see him show any discomfort.
In another moment, they could see the lights of the group approaching. He reached up to scratch at a tingling itch at one of the larger abrasions on his chest.
Good, he thought – first sign of healing.
*
Minutes before, minuscule fragments of Han Biao’s clothing, skin, and blood had been washed ahead of him down the river, and within an environment that was near devoid of life, and food, every scrap was eagerly sought and pursued. From beneath the mud, from out of cracks in the submerged cave wall and floor, tiny thread-like heads pushed out to sample the water, waving back and forth momentarily, tracking its source, before launching themselves, sperm like, their tiny tails flicking madly towards Han Biao. Above the water, the man felt nothing, as his body, and every scrape, cut, and graze on it, became a source of great interest to the worms.
*
“That’s water … running water.” Casey turned back to Aimee, Soong, and the soldiers. “And there’s more humidity.”
“Yes, I can smell it; we must be close,” Aimee said. She was the only one allowed to use a flashlight, and she kept it pointed at the ground. The HAWCs had switched to night-scopes, and the McMurdo team walked in the dark, following Aimee’s beam. The tunnels were narrowing now, and they only permitted single file movement. Around the group, the darkness was becoming a living thing, and Aimee could feel the weight of the stone around her as if it lay heavily on her shoulders.
The stocky female HAWC led them on, followed by Soong and Aimee, then Parcellis, Hagel, Blake, Dawkins, and Jennifer Hartigan. Bringing up the rear, were the hulking forms of Ben Jackson and Hank Rinofsky. Both Jackson and Rhino were having a difficult time with the caves narrowing and the pace was slowing with both having to move side-on to navigate. Aimee knew that if the space shrunk any more, then Rinofsky and Jackson would either have to find another way, or they’d all have to double back.
From time to time, Aimee would look over her shoulder. It was an eerie sensation, because although the team was strung out with several feet between each of them, all she saw was the intermittent red dots over the eyes of the HAWCs. She knew they saw her, but unless she lifted the flashlight to them, they were invisible.
We’re ghosts in the land of the dead, she thought glumly, and shook her head. What am I doing here? She swallowed down a lump in her throat. I’m sorry, Joshua, I made a terrible mistake.
The image of his beautiful face floated in the darkness, and she drew comfort from it. She saw him laughing, playing, eating, even arguing – all the small moments of their life together. She had raised him from nothing, and all by herself. She was his everything, and he was hers. She sniffed, seeing his tiny face sleeping, the features so relaxed, so innocent, and so … helpless. What the hell was I thinking? she thought miserably, and dragged a forearm across her eyes, wiping away tears, but also grinding dust into them, making them worse.
She heard her son’s voice then: “You need to bring him home.”
I’ll try, she whispered, and, with her head down, she walked on, step after step.
From time to time, the group passed over fissures in the stone – sometimes they needed to step across them in the floor, and other times the wall beside them was torn, as if titanic hands had ripped the stone asunder.
Casey held up a fist, causing Aimee to nearly stumble into Soong. The female HAWC stood frozen for many seconds. Aimee crept up closer, collapsing Soong into the HAWC.
“What is it?”
“Listen,” Casey whispered.
Aimee concentrated, and then held her breath. There was a soft rapid dripping, somewhere off in the darkness. Other than that there was nothing, there wasn’t even breathing, as everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
“I think …”
Casey’s fist was still up, but she flicked a fi
nger to quiet Aimee.
Aimee concentrated again, and then she heard it, or rather, stopped hearing it.
“The dripping … it’s stopped.”
“Yeah,” Casey said softly. “It’s been doing that as if it’s shutting off and on.” She half turned. “Or something is getting in and out of water. Any ideas?”
Aimee felt a coiling in her stomach, but pushed it down and shook her head. “Could be a lot of things. But at this depth, the water seepage should be consistent.”
“Seasonality, variable sinking points, chemical blockages,” Soong said, looking at each woman. “But this happens over longer extended periods – months and years, not minutes.”
Casey’s eyes slid from Soong back to Aimee. “Or something or someone passing underneath the flow?” She waited for a response.
Aimee just shrugged, not wanting to advance any theories that would panic anyone … yet.
Casey pulled her M18X rifle from over her shoulder, and waved them on. “Eyes on, people. Don’t want to run into our PLA friends.” She turned to raise an eyebrow at Aimee. “Or anything else.”
CHAPTER 32
“Do you know what one of my favorite books was, when I was a kid?” Cate Canning stood with hands on hips, smiling dreamily. “At the Earth’s Core.” She turned slowly, sighing. Alex ignored her.
“It was written by Edgar Rice Burroughs, just over one hundred years ago. It’s about a hidden world within our world.”
“Hm-hmm.” Alex stopped to use his scanner once again.
“Do you know how the scientists first got there?” She knew he probably wouldn’t know, so continued. “They used a machine they called the ‘Iron Mole’ to drill down through the crust. Guess from where?” She waited this time.
“I’m guessing, the South Pole,” Alex said without looking up.
“Exactly. Is this not fiction becoming true?”
“I preferred his Tarzan series myself.” Alex half smiled, but motioned to the deeper forest. “C’mon, this way.”
They threaded their way through the hairy trunks of the Prototaxites and pulpy looking plants pushing back at them at waist level. But as they moved further from the shoreline, the flora changed, becoming more dense and, if possible, even stranger.
Cate pointed as she walked, giving Alex a running commentary. “Glossopteris, or some sort of gymnosperm, anyway. Hmm, but the leaves are all wrong.” She paused to look up at the twilight ceiling. “You know, it’s like a Valdivian rainforest, but it survives with little light. All these plants are relics from the Pangaean supercontinent. They share common characteristics from relic forests, but have adapted, just like ferns and mosses, to a permanent low-light environment.”
She strode across a large pile of what looked like dried sphagnum moss. “Hundreds of millions of years ago, ferns learned how to share genetic material to allow them to survive in extremely low-light environments. I think the plants here have done the same. They’re now getting most of their nutrients from the soil.”
“Not just from the soil.” Alex pointed to a weird looking tree trunk that had what appeared to be a huge spiny bug wrapped tight in sticky tendrils. “Seems they’re quite happy to eat a bit of meat now and then.”
Cate snorted and walked closer to the glistening mass. “Blood and bone – we feed it to our roses.”
“Looks like it’s self serve down here.” Alex’s head whipped around. “Hey, hold up.”
“Huh?” Cate turned, and seeing his face, spun to also stare into the dark forest. “What is it?”
“Movement,” Alex said. “Back up.”
Cate eased back, one foot carefully behind the other. Her rear foot sank into a mat of the sphagnum moss, eliciting a hiss, and then something shot from underneath it. It moved like a snake, but with small spindly legs flicking madly. Cate leapt backwards.
“Shit!”
“Quiet!” Alex turned, frowning. “It was just a snake.”
“It had legs. You know, it could have been a dinilysia. That was one of the snake’s earliest ancestors.” She kicked over the moss-mound, revealing a clutch of small eggs. She knelt down and reached into the pile, lifting one and squeezing it slightly. “Soft shell.” She shook her head. “I would kill to bring one of these back.”
Alex grunted. “Good to know we won’t starve.”
Cate looked horrified. “Over my dead body.”
Alex half smiled. “You go a few days without food, you’ll eat ’em, and eat ’em raw.” He motioned to the forest. “Come on … and watch where you step, Professor.”
Cate exhaled, loitering for a moment before getting to her feet. “You know what?” She grinned. “My bucket list is now officially empty.”
Alex half turned. “Mine still has get out alive in it, and about now, it’s close to the top.” He turned away. “Let’s follow the path.”
“Yeah, right, the path,” Cate said, scoffing. “You do know this is a game trail?”
“I know … but I’m kinda hoping it’s an old and unused one right now,” Alex said without turning.
They walked in silence for another fifteen minutes, Cate stopping from time to time to examine something on a trunk, or among the forest floor debris. She wiped her brow.
“It’s so hot down here. Must be geothermal activity.”
“Yeah.”
Cate followed Alex, her head craned to the ceiling again. “The blue glow makes it look like late sunset. The sun has just gone down, but the last blush of light remains – beautiful. It’s some sort of bioluminescence – either floral or faunal.”
“Glow worms.” Alex looked up. “Billons and billions of them.”
Cate snorted. “I should probably just shut up. But you know what? If you shared a bit more, it would save me from having to flap my lips all the time.” She increased her pace to catch up. “And how the hell doesn’t anyone know about this place?”
Alex stopped and turned. “Because if they did, there’d be a thousand of you on the ice, and a hundred of you below it. This is a designated restricted zone – off limits to everyone. It’s no greenhouse, or petting zoo, or nature sanctuary, where you walk behind safety barriers. I lost an entire team down here, and it is the most deadly place on Earth, bar none.”
“Under,” Cate said. “Not on Earth, but under it.”
Alex half smiled, but it held little humor. “You need to take this very seriously, Professor Canning. Just about every second creature down here will either eat you, try to eat you, or at least do a good job of making a damned mess out of you.”
“Oh, we’re back to Professor Canning now, are we?” She waited, hands on hips, but Alex didn’t bite. She exhaled loudly. “Okay, okay.” Then titled her head. “It’s just, I’ve studied this all my life.” She waved a hand around. “But it’s always been echoes of the real thing that vanished millions of years ago. I can’t count the number of times I sat alone, wondering what some of these things would be like if they were alive today – what color would they be? What would they sound like, smell like? And now …” She grinned, arms out.
“I know all I need to know. We stay away from them, we stay alive.” Alex checked his tracker. “Come on.”
They marched on, and soon the land dipped and became spongy beneath their feet. Water squelched up with every step they took, and the plants lifted themselves up even higher on long mangrove-like root legs. The smell of damp and rot was all-pervading.
Cate bent and swished her hand through a puddle. “It’s almost hot.” She sniffed her fingers. “Fresh, but very brackish.”
“Careful,” Alex said. Their pace slowed, as they needed to weave around ponds that held greenish water of unknown depths. In one, an insect the size of a cherry flew lazily over the surface, to suddenly be speared from the oil-still surface and then vanish below its green algal blanket.
Cate watched, transfixed for a second or two, before going and kneeling beside one of the larger ponds. Bubbles popped and the surface swirled with languid movem
ent below. She grabbed the stem of a fern frond to wipe it across the water’s surface, so she could see into its depths.
“Ha.” She dipped the frond in like a giant paddle, dragging it back towards herself. She hauled her prize up onto the soggy bank.
The foot-long black creature flipped and flopped, looking glossy black under the blue light of the bioluminescent glow from the ceiling.
“Pollywog,” she said and grinned up at Alex.
“Is that what I think it is?” he asked.
“Yep, that, is a tadpole … a huge, monstrous tadpole.” She cursed. “Arg, why didn’t I bring a camera? I’m an idiot.” She got to her feet. “When I was a kid, I had a stream down at the far edge of our yard that had frogs, eels, and tortoises living in it. I spent hours just lying on the bank watching them.” She used the frond like a broom to sweep the tadpole back towards the water. “I bet that’s a Beelzebufo ampinga larvae. Called the devil frog – long extinct on the surface, but it had jaws like a bear trap and grew to nearly two feet in length. Could’ve eaten a small dog.”
She dropped the frond. “Hmm, but why can’t we hear them? Frogs are some of the noisiest creatures on the planet. Something that big should be near deafening.”
“That, like most things down here, has learned to be quiet. So should you.” Alex pointed off into the distance where there was a rise to a rocky plateau – it was miles away. “I think there’s a waterfall way back there. That’s where the fresh water is coming from, and I’m betting they all empty into the sea around here. There’ll be a stream we can follow. The signal seems to be coming from the far cliffs.”
Cate continued to look out over the pond. She inhaled deeply, drawing in all the scents of brackish water, decay, damp mosses, and rich earth. I’m in a prehistoric jungle miles below the earth’s surface. She smiled at the insane thought. From when she was a little girl, poking sticks into frog ponds, or turning over stones in tidal pools, this was what drew her to her profession like a magnet. It was what she had dreamed of – no, not this – this was beyond anything she could have dreamed. Her smile widened and she looked over her shoulder at Alex, the man’s dangerously handsome features now twisted in either contemplation or concern. But she wasn’t concerned; down here felt like she had landed right in heaven. She knew she would never, ever get this chance again.