by James Axler
Just then a shimmering beam of intense red stabbed along the river and hit the distant wall. Instantly there was an explosion of rock, and another section of the moss died.
But that gave Doc an idea. As the booming concussion of the blast echoed along the waterway, Doc charged to the opposite side and got as far away from the energy weapon as he could. The companions had encountered laser beams before. Nasty weapons. Mirrors didn’t reflect the beam unless the surface was flawless, which few mirrors were even back in predark days. Mildred said lasers were used in surgery to cure all sorts of ills, but he had never encountered any of those. Doc only knew the mil lasers, energy beams that were powerful enough to stab through armor plate. People boiled inside their skin when the beams touched them, and death was a blessing when it finally arrived.
And that’s my edge, Doc raged internally, going over a mound of loose rocks. He still wants me alive. These shots are all high in an effort to make me scared and do something foolish. But the moment Delphi decides that I’m getting away…
The laser stabbed out again and Doc spun to level the LeMat. But he withheld triggering the blaster and waited, trying to hold his breath and listen past the choppy water. Doc knew that moving too fast, or too slow, would mean being targeted. Then the beam could come again and end his tribulations.
“Come on, Thor,” the scholar whispered, thumbing back the big hammer. “Throw your lighting, and I shall eagerly play Loki.”
As if in response, the beam came again, silhouetting the turn in the passageway. Then it returned a moment later in a flurry of short bursts. In the strobing red light, Delphi was momentarily visible, his white clothing soaked in fluids, black wires sticking out of his flesh like the antennae of an insect.
Then as Doc watched, the gashes in Delphi closed all by themselves and the bleeding ceased. At the sight, Doc felt his heart lurch. Dear God Almighty, Delphi was a cyborg! Part man and part machine. Just like the Wizard, or the Magus, only a much more advanced model, version, whatever the right damn word was for the abominations.
Desperately, Doc patted the pockets of his frock coat and felt for the two remaining grens. Both were antipers and useless against the man-machine. Without another thermite gren like he used on the war wag, or an implo gren, Doc didn’t stand a chance in hell against a cyborg equipped with energy weapons. Escape was his only option.
Sliding behind a lumpy rock, Doc held down the trigger of the LeMat and fanned the hammer, his other hand firing the single-shot revolver a fast three times. A cry answered the deafening gunshots, followed by a watery splash. Then the passageway was lit by fiery light, and an echoing detonation told that the boobie had been found.
Turning, Doc frantically ran away as the laser stabbed along the waterway in a mad barrage. Everywhere it touched, rocks shattered from the intense heat of the energy beam and more of the moss perished, leaving gaping patches in the smooth green carpeting of unearthly luminescence. Good.
Thanking J.B. for insisting that he carry some of the new weaponry, Doc holstered the empty LeMat and eased out the Ruger to risk a shot on the run. The muzzle-flash seemed unnaturally bright in the splotchy darkness, and with every shot Doc stepped to the side. There was no shout of pain, and this time Delphi laughed as the crimson laser stabbed back in reply, rock splinters exploding from every fleeting contact from the energy beam.
Reaching a section of dead moss, Doc crouched in the dirty water and quickly began to reload the Ruger. The LeMat was wet, utterly useless for the time being, aside from shotgun charge. Doc would save that for an emergency. The shotgun charge of double-aught stainless-steel buckshot could cut a person in two. What it would do to a cyborg, he had no idea, and wasn’t really eager to find out.
The laser stabbed again, sizzling the water into a blast of steam. Then, touching the wall, it swept along low.
Biting back a curse, Doc crouched lower as the beam swept overhead, shivering from the combination of the icy water and the hot wind of the mauling power ray.
By the Three Kennedys, that was close! Okay, Delphi had the superior weaponry, Doc admitted gruffly, closing the blaster and easing back the hammer. But Delphi was no combat soldier. If all of Doc’s travels with Ryan and the others had taught him anything, it was how to fight. Delphi was judging a book by its cover, which was always a foolish thing. But that gave Doc another idea…
WADING THROUGH THE COLD water, Delphi paused as the sparking wires in his crippled hand slowly withdrew into his skin and the fingers were able to move once more.
That grenade under the water had been a good trick, Delphi admitted grimly, flexing his palm as the last few traces of damage faded away. Tanner was clever. No wonder the fellow escaped from Whisper and Chronos. But he was facing Coldfire now, and that division never failed. Half of the work of Coldfire was repairing the damage done by the other two bureaucratic agencies.
Delphi closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, and the darkness of the tunnel was gone, replaced by an eerie black-and-white view. Glancing at the rippling surface of the shallow river, he saw his eyes as silvered mirrors, expanding and contracting as the need for light fluctuated.
Standing still, the cyborg waited for the moving water to quiet. The cold water was making his broken knee throb, but he banished the pain from his mind and listened for the labored breathing of the elusive scholar. Somewhere in the dark sections, a rock slipped and splashed into the stream, but Delphi did nothing. That could have happened naturally, or been a diversion. The cyborg needed to wait until he knew for sure where Tanner was located. Only then would he strike with the stunner and take the damn fool alive.
Suddenly, a wild hooting sounded from farther down the tunnel and Doc screamed, his blaster firing. But not toward Delphi. The shots were angled off to the side.
Nuking hellfire, were there stickies down here? Delphi raged furiously. The idiot muties were going to ruin everything!
Charging along the waterway, Delphi boosted the light from his hand until he was a nimbus of illumination filling the craggy passageway for a dozen yards.
“Get away from the norm!” Delphi commanded, his voice echoing oddly off the bare rock and moss-coated walls. “Do not harm that norm, my children!”
Reaching a bend in the tunnel, Delphi now knew why Tanner had disappeared off his instruments. Stalactites festooned the roof like the fangs of a prehistoric beast, the cold stone interfering with the readings of his sensors. Beyond the stalactites, the stream stretched into the distance, but there was no sign of Tanner or the stickies. Had it been a trick of some kind?
Something moved behind him, and Delphi glanced over a shoulder to see a loose section of the glowing moss fall away to expose Doc holding two blasters. Ambush!
Spinning, Delphi tried to bring up his crystal rod when Doc fired the LeMat, the shotgun charge blowing off the cyborg’s hand at the wrist. The wand went flying as a shrieking Delphi staggered backward clutching the mutilated limb, blood spurting from the severed arteries.
Tripping on a submerged rock, Delphi went over backward to land on top of a granite outcropping just as the second blaster discharged, the flame reaching out to be deflected only inches away from his face. Oddly, the noise of the gun was muffled, and the chill in the air was gone. Only then did Delphi realized that his moccasins were out of the water, and the forcefield was back, the immaterial barrier shimmering a soft rainbow effect around the wounded cyborg.
Blood was still pumping from the end of the shattered wrist as Doc savagely swung the blaster to try to pistol-whip Delphi, but the wep bounced off the forcefield with no effect whatsoever. Fighting to stay conscious, the panting cyborg watched as black wires erupted from the end of his arm to start making hasty repairs.
“Looks like a stalemate, Tanner,” the cyborg said with a sneer. “I can’t hurt you, and you can’t harm me.”
Holstering his blasters, Doc muttered a phrase in Latin that Delphi recognized. The only thing without limit is foolishness.
&
nbsp; Now, what did that mean? Delphi wondered, reaching behind his back for the miniature 1 mm HK needler hidden there. But he found only an empty holster. The gun had to have fallen out when the well exploded. Damn the luck!
Kneeling in the muddy water, Doc came up with the crystal rod and the hand, the fingers madly twitching in the manner of some ghastly spider. Removing the hand, Doc leveled the rod at Delphi, but nothing happened. He tried changing his grip, but the result was the same.
“The beamer only works for me, fool.” Delphi smirked, cradling his tattered arm. The bleeding had already stopped and the pain was fading quickly.
“Let us see, shall we?” Doc growled. Retrieving the hand, he wrapped it around the rod, then squeezed the disembodied flesh with strong fingers. Instantly the rod emitted a searing power ray tuned to its last setting. The beam cut through the gloom and stabbed into the stream, creating another geyser of steam. Temporarily blinded, Doc grimly held on, trying to point the laser at Delphi. However, the hand seemed reluctant to aim at its owner, and the beam went wide, cutting a white-hot slice through the roof to the sound of shattering stone.
“What are you doing?” Delphi screamed, starting to slide off the outcropping. But he paused at the sight of the swirling water below. One step into that and he was helpless as any person.
As the beam cut in deeper, the hand holding the rod began to sizzle softly, the flesh cooking from the excess heat.
“Wait!” Delphi cried in anguish, cradling his crippled arm. “We can make a deal! I’ll…I’ll send you home!”
Amid the mounting destruction, Doc paused, the fleeting dream of hope quickening his heartbeat. The scholar looked hard into the face of the cringing cyborg, and the truth lay there for all to see. Betrayal.
“Liar!” Doc snarled, widening the circle of annihilation above them, cutting away the supporting stones. “If I must die, then I shall take you to Hades with me!”
Delphi’s reply was lost as the whole passageway gave a low groan and the ceiling thunderously cracked apart. An avalanche of loose dirt and rocks began pouring into the stream and covered Delphi completely. The stalactites broke loose and stabbed into the mud, shattering as they hit the granite bottom and sending out halos of splinters.
The whole tunnel was shaking, rocks crashing down everywhere around Doc as he waved the energy beam madly around, extending the damage as far as he could. Then the beam winked out, drained of power, or deactivated by the death of its master. Flipping the grisly trophy away into the murky green darkness, Doc took off at a run, desperately splashing downstream in an effort to outrace the spreading destruction.
Chapter Seventeen
“It is done.” Baron Harmond stated, raising his weary head.
Gratefully, the boy leaned back in his chair, sighing as if a barbed dagger had been removed from his flesh. There was still disharmony in his mind, but it was becoming less with every passing second.
Just then, a loud explosion sounded from outside the window of the throne room. The doomie baron glanced sideways to see debris flying into the air, only to fall back down upon the burning ville. The sec men were using the last of the gunpowder to blow up key buildings and make a firebreak to try to hold back the raging inferno before it destroyed everything. At the moment, the sec men had no leader; they were working together out of sheer necessity. Bateman had died when the gunpowder mill detonated. The sec chief had been riding his horse when the concussion wave hit, sending him flying from the saddle to crash into the gallows and break his neck. Now the sec men and villagers all understood why Harmond had changed the name of the ville on the first day he became baron.
Another blast shook the night, and the baron turned his vision inward. Yes…yes…the future was murky in some spots and crystal-clear in others. The fate of Ryan and the others was unknown, as was his own destiny. No doomie could see his or her own life. It was a blessed blind spot in the mind’s eye that kept them somewhat sane. But already Harmond could see the new sec chief for the ville coming this way. He would arrive under a cloak of lies, a sworn foe of Break Neck, but he would serve the ville faithfully until his own future dictated a certain course of action.
Thick smoke drifted in through the window, driven by the winds of the conflagration, and the boy started to cough. It was gone, the fleeting glimpse carried away by the distraction of an acrid breeze. The future was unknowable once more, a matrix of ever-flowing chaos that flowed like a waterfall cascading from the mouth of the moon.
WITH A DEAFENING ROAR, the ceiling of the riverway collapsed, and Doc threw himself forward in a frantic burst of speed. Rocks and boulders were rolling everywhere, and the man tripped more than once, but grimly forced himself to keep going.
As the dusty exhalation moved down the passageway, the old man braced for death, but the noise of the falling rocks soon lessened. Then the stream rushing past his knees slowed and began to lower until it was a mere trickle snaking between his soggy shoes.
Could it be? Was it possible? There was still live moss on this length of the passageway, and Doc took a fast glance backward. The passage was blocked solid now, several of the larger stalactites acting as a crude bulwark to hold back the rest of the rubble.
“Finito,” Doc whispered, allowing himself a small grin. Then he lurched into action once more, wisely determined to keep his cold feet moving. That final avalanche should have done the job. The tons of rock had buried that damn cyborg alive, and then the blocked river would drown him. So much for Department Coldfire. Delphi was well-protected, but still just a man inside his protective shell of advanced tech and machinery.
Sloshing through the trickling water, Doc hastily reloaded the Ruger and cursed softly at the discovery that he was now out of ammo for the revolver. The realization only made the scholar more resolute to escape the underground warren. The passage was getting wider, and in the dim glow of the moss he could see numerous side channels going off in random directions. The implications were unnerving. If he got lost, Doc knew that he could end up spending the rest of his life walking in circles trying to get out again. He had to stay on a singular course and trust that the source of the fresh air would eventually be discovered. He sniffed hard. Yes, the breeze was still with him, not blocked by the avalanche behind. But it seemed altered now, changed somehow, and the scholar really could not tell what was subtly different.
Pulling the ebony stick from his belt, Doc withdrew the Spanish sword and slashed the wall moss to mark his way. Counting to a hundred paces, he did it again, and then again at the same distance. But the glow of the moss was getting dimmer, and Doc felt a touch of fear at the thought of being trapped underground in the pitch black. Entombed. Buried alive. The very death he had bestowed upon Delphi might now be his own ultimate fate. It would seem that life was not without a sense of irony.
Wrapped in the dire thoughts, Doc didn’t catch the noise at first, then went motionless as the sound came again. Was another cave-in starting? Was some great subterranean beast rising from its lair to feast upon the hapless traveler? Holding his breath, Doc listened for all he was worth and clearly caught the noise this time. A bird. There was a twittering bird somewhere to his right.
Heading that way, Doc saw that the trickle of water was going in the same direction, and his heart lightened at the positive omen. Suddenly a warm breeze caressed his face, and Doc broke into a grin as he dimly saw a patch of stars twinkling directly ahead. He had found the exit!
Proceeding with care, Doc sheathed the sword and used the swordstick to test the ground ahead as he walked toward the stars. Minutes later, he bumped his head on the mouth of an irregular opening. Bending slightly, he stepped through the mouth of the river and found himself standing on the precipice of a waterfall. The riverbed was glistening with moisture, the footing treacherous with slime. Squinting hard, Doc could only see a vast open space below, a yawning chasm that reached to unknown depths. Looking up, Doc saw the starry sky, the fiery clouds far off to his left while the crescent moon
shone a cool silvery-blue light on the surface world. He had made it!
Moving carefully over the slippery stones, Doc stumbled to the nearby bank of the river and crawled onto dry land. Lying there, he hugged the earth, savoring the smell. There were sharp rocks in the loose soil, but never had dirt felt so good between his fingers.
The bird called again, and Doc slowly stood to see it winging away on an unknown quest. It wasn’t a screamwing, or any form of mutie, just an ordinary bird. He tried to make out the species, but it was already gone, racing away from his unwanted presence.
Advancing to the edge of the cliff, Doc turned to look down at the abyss below and tried to imagine what it would have been like with the stream flowing at full force. He would have been washed right over and sent plummeting to whatever there was in the Stygian dark. The explosion that chilled Delphi had also opened the door for his escape.
“Timing.” Doc chuckled out loud. “It was always a matter of timing.”
Savoring the warmth of the desert air, Doc glanced around and easily found the burning wreckage of the Indian settlement a mile or so in the distance. Had he really gone that far through the river? Amazing.
Shaking the dust from his hair, Doc briefly checked his soaked belongings, then started away from the cliff. He was exhausted, half frozen and sore all over from countless bruises, but this wasn’t the place to rest. His horse was gone, but with any luck, he might be able to find Delphi’s war wag and figure out a way inside. J.B. had taught him a lot about locks, and there was always brute force. The sleek transport would certainly have stores of food and weapons for the cyborg. But even more importantly, there could be data files containing information about Coldfire: notebooks, a journal, perhaps a computer file. Mildred had taught him about accessing those.
Using the burning settlement as a landmark, Doc started inland, angling away from the waterfall. However, the ground sloped toward the dead stream, and the loose pebbles kept slipping and sliding under his damp boots. More than once he started a small landslide and began heading sideways toward the edge of the cliff. Dropping to his hands and knees, Doc let the disturbance settle, then began to crawl up the slope. The going was tough, but he was determined and he was nearly at the crest when he heard a familiar voice.