Stein tilted his head, signaling that Graulich should follow him. “Careful—some nasty edges.”
Graulich clambered on top of a large rock and followed Stein, being careful not to let her boots slide into a crevasse and get trapped, looking for a perch, and then at spots even scrambling on all fours. Until they reached what looked like a hole.
“Teddy here noticed this yesterday.”
“Noticed what?”
Stein’s grin widened under his helmet. “This. Look.”
He opened his fist, and Graulich could see that he had a handful of red dirt. “Observe—” he said with glee. He let a thin trail of dirt trickle down into the hole…and the tiny dust-sized particles blew backup. A thin red stream of Martian dust…being blown away.
“Wow. You mean—”
Stein stood up. “It’s a hole, Axelle. It goes somewhere, where there are drafts, some currents of air, winds strong enough to blow this dust back. This cave entrance is only just that—an entrance. This”—he pointed at the small opening—“goes somewhere.”
Then Axelle looked at the jumble of rocks that they stood on.
“Yeah. And these rocks?” Stein continued. “These rocks didn’t fall ‘from’ anywhere. My guess is that they were…put here.”
“Put here?”
“To seal this off. And now, millions of years later, we’re going to open it. Pretty cool, hmm?”
Axelle nodded. Though she wasn’t surecool was the word she’d use. She turned and looked out at the cave mouth, a giant opening where she could see a curved slice of Martian terrain, hills in the distance, a bit of the unfinished Delta Labs, the Martian sky burning with its usual afternoon intensity.
And as if in a reflex, she backed away from the hole, taking care not to fall, as she started thinking about the implications of this discovery, not quite knowing where to begin.
10
TEREKSTAN—THE BRIDGE ROAD
KANE’S TECH NCO CAME UP TO HIM. “STILL NOsignal, Lieutenant.”
“Thanks, Gonzales. Best pack up your radio and put a gun in both hands.”
“Will do, Lieutenant.”
This was probably more than Gonzales bargained for—a kid from some crappy area who got a bit of tech training, then signed on to the Corps thinking that the marines, for him, would be all about keeping a smooth flow of images and data going back and forth.
Something nice and safe.
Not like this. Cut off from any information. Where the only tech wasnone.
As Kane looked ahead, he realized how good, how helpful it could be to get live sat feeds of everything happening around them, heat signatures showing all enemy combatants, clear satellite shots of any armor moving to box them in. But Command wanted this to end here, and Kane was sure that a surrender was not in the cards. There would be too many questions that way. Too many awkward explanations.
“Keep moving, fast as you can,” he said, not that any of the troops needed the urging.
The street—the road to the bridge—had gone quiet. Kane had done enough damage to the enemy at their rear that any force chasing them would need some time to regroup. If they could punch out of the front, they might make it out of the town.
And then? Best not to think about that.
And as if in answer to that thought, he watched two mini-Karelia tanks pivot into place, gun turrets turning, ready to blow his entire group away.
Kane saw his lead marines slow as they spotted the tanks moving into position to box them in. Exactly the wrong move.
His marines had about two, maybe three hundred meters before they reached the tanks. Only seconds before the tanks would be perfectly positioned. Kane, in the lead, looked to the people to his left and right. “We’re going to run—and take those out. Now!”
As soon as he broke into that run, his legs aching from everything they had done so far, he could see that it was probably hopeless. They’d be sitting ducks. But then his AAVs behind him opened fire. Kane was close enough to hear the steady plink of the shells hitting the reinforced metal of the tanks ahead, peppering the armored compound that was nearly impenetrable.
And Kane noticed something interesting: the steady shelling seemed to slow the tanks’ moves. Could be they had a young crew, borrowed from Russia. The sound, the firing was throwing them off. Then the AAVs each launched RPGs, expertly targeting the tractor base of the tanks. Just as Kane had rehearsed them.
Practice makes perfect.
The shells landed squarely in front of the tracks, near the small triangle that exposed a weak area of the small tank’s fronts. Two perfect shots—but were they enough?
Then one of the tanks fired, sending multiple shells flying down the street. They arced over Kane, one mere inches above his helmet.
He spun to see one cannonading shell smash into a group of soldiers hugging the wall in front of the vehicles. The shell exploded, and smoky, reddish mist filed the air.
Shit…
Then another hit one of the AAVs and stopped it. Kane waited a moment for anyone to come out. No movement.
Still, the exchange had bought them some time. They had ashot . He pointed his machine gun straight ahead, tight in his right hand, while his left ripped off a thermite grenade.
He thought of barking another command at the soldiers with him. But he could see there was no need to do that. This was it—either they’d be able to punch out of the corridor made by this street—or every single marine with Kane would die.
Kane’s calves and thighs burned from the full-out run. The single AAV kept tight on their heels, urging them on.
One enemy tank cautiously edged down the street, while the other now appeared immobile. But its turret still looked for a target. Kane and his men were only seconds from where they could toss their grenades. A few of the platoon had rocket launchers strapped to their backs—but there was no time to stop, set them up, launch the weapons.
Just a few more meters…
And then he saw one of his marines stop and toss one, then another grenade. It acted like an electric trigger—the air suddenly filled with flying grenades. Then the peppering of automatic fire.
The grenades landed in, on, and around both Karelia-class tanks—and despite the strength of the armored compound shielding them, the tanks exploded into smudgy fires. It was enough to lure the enemy behind them into the opening.
Let’s see what we’re really dealing with,Kane thought.
The enemy—hidden in the smoke—made the mistake of entering the open street.Too bad they didn’t know their Custer. They could have waited on either side. We’d have no place to go. But now—we get targets.
And the full platoon, who only seconds ago had been lobbing grenades, started firing at the smoky figures. While the smoke provided the enemy some cover, Kane’s marines could see the shrouded shapes appear and could mow them down.
He even felt a little sorry for the bastards. No one wanted this—no one wanted to end their days in some backwater city’s grungy street dying for oil that would do you or your family absolutely no good.
We’re all the same,Kane thought.All just pieces being played.
The enemy fell, bodies collapsing onto other bodies.
He felt his own soldiers pick up their speed, now feeling that they had a way out, that—miraculously—they were going to get out of this thing.
The lone AAV fired another round of rocket shells, pinpointing an area behind the smoke cloud. As good a place as any to hit.
And then—Kane could swear that he didn’t see—or hear—any firing from the front.
The platoon reached the dead enemy soldiers, the smoking tanks, and still kept moving quickly. The road led to the main bridge out, and then a narrow highway to the border. Even the newly emboldened Terekstan would be wary of crossing the border. People liked their wars small and contained these days. They passed into an open area; another perfect spot for an ambush. But whatever force had reached the other end of the street had been destroyed. The way
ran clear to the bridge, and safety for his company and for the rescued marines.
And for himself—the officer who had carried out this mission against orders?
Well, that would be a different story.
11
MARS CITY—ADMINISTRATION
FOR A FEW MOMENTS, NOBODY IN THE LARGE CONFERENCEroom said anything. They just stared mutely at the screen. Perhaps Hayden had seen this before. And certainly Kelliher had looked at the image often enough.
But Ian Kelliher thought it was worth the price of admission to see the looks on Swann’s and Campbell’s faces. Jack Campbell was one tough son of a bitch—but this gave him pause.
Without waiting for anyone to react, Kelliher touched the tabletop controls. The image began a slow 360-degree turn, so everyone could look at it very carefully as it turned.
“Jee-sus…” Campbell said.
“Indeed,” Kelliher replied. “Quite something, General, no?”
Hayden nodded.
Kelliher looked back at the thing on the screen. One of the more recent experimental results.
“I believe,” Kelliher said, “that this experiment involved increasing the distance of the teleported subject, am I correct?”
“I imagine so. I only get—”
“Right. ‘Need to know’ basis, and all that bullshit.”
Kelliher realized that he had spat out the last word—he needed to keep his cool here. Hayden—despite his well-honed instincts to hide any facts that might prove troublesome or disturbing to the bureaucratic cosmos—was, in fact, a good honcho to be running this operation.
Like Kelliher, Hayden knew how to inspire fear. Like Kelliher, he believed in the importance of this mission. They had had quiet chats back at the Palo Alto labs, discussing the future of Mars.
Not Earth’s future, to be sure. That shithole probably didn’t have one. If the people of Earth were to have any hope, Mars would be the key to it. And Hayden could be ruthless. So what was a little lying and duplicity among friends?
“You have seen this before, right, General?”
A pause. Not so long as to be insubordinate, but enough to show that Hayden was weighing the merits of his answer…
“Yes.” Then: “Briefly. Yes, I have.”
Kelliher now stepped back as the 3-D image finished its rotation.
“I believe the subject was a primate, correct?”
“A capuchin monkey,” Hayden said. “Betruger likes them for their size, their intelligence—a good match, he claimed.”
“A good match…to humans, that is?”
“Yes.”
Now it was Kelleher’s turn to pause. A smile in the pale blue light. “Doesn’t look very human now, does it? Or much like a monkey, for that matter.”
The image had returned to its starting position. Kelliher noted that there wassome fur on the thing—odd, scruffy patches. And it did have handlike paws. But those “hands” now ended in talonlike claws. A long tail curled out from the creature’s rear end, but that was no monkey tail. It looked barbed, with spikes coming out of it. Might work for some deep-ocean giant arachnid.
But on a goddamn monkey? It was the head that was truly the most disturbing. It seemed to have ballooned into an oblong shape. The two eyes had merged into one large, gooey sphere, a dark soulless pupil sitting in some murky greenish-white mucus—a pit of emptiness.
But that was the least of it. The mouth of the “subject” had stretched into a wide, constant grimace. More teeth than any creature could need or ever use. Long fangs, giant chomping molars, set in a mouth that completely dwarfed the head and the rest of the thing.
It looked designed—if that was the right word—for only one thing.
“I never got a report on this, now did I?”
“No, sir. Betruger has asked that all the bad transmissions—”
A full laugh now. “Abad transmission? Is that what he calls them?”
“Yes.”
“No report. But I assume something happened when this…thing arrived in the lab?”
Hayden looked at Swann and Campbell. “Yes. Things happened.”
“See—I don’t know all about that, General. So before we leave, before I tell you how things will go from here on, for this next crucial year…why don’t you tell me. Now.”
Hayden cleared his throat. Then, as if to reassert some of his status as commander of Mars City, the person actually running this place, Hayden stood up and walked to the image.
“It arrived in the lab…alive…”
Walker stood up in the main cafeteria, his plate of food mostly uneaten. He looked around the nearly empty room to see who might be looking at him.
Wondering what he was thinking, planning…
Because this was something he hadn’t talked about with anyone…anyone.After all, he was told not to talk about what he might see in the lab. The threats were quite clear. A few loose words and he might be in big trouble.
But then Walker had seen something that he wasn’t supposed to. He had been standing guard near the north portal. And one of the scientists fell to the ground. Someone yelled for help. Then, quite clearly, the sound and the smell of someone throwing up—
Now Walker reached the trash containers. He scraped his still-full plate into the blue container and placed the tray, the silverware, the smeary plate on the giant plastic yellow tray.
And in the lab on that day, he had moved from his position. He wasn’t supposed to do that. Not supposed to move at all from where he was standing.
Not without an order—
But the yelling, the scientist falling, those hacking sounds—
He had hurried toward the center of the lab. A tight circle of scientists were standing around some kind of small glass chamber. Walker’s eyes had gone to the guy on the floor. Someone in a white coat saying people should stand back. Another white coat to the side, the guy throwing his guts up—
But then he saw that everyone wasn’t looking at either of those two men—
No, the scientists were looking at what was inside the glass chamber—
And in that moment, Walker told himself. This iswrong. I’ve read enough stories, seen enough vids to know—
Inside the chamber…something alive.
Walker had frozen in his tracks looking at it, the way it kept splashing against the thick clear glass, trying to smash its way out. Or maybe, with the clatter of its clawlike appendages smacking the glass, trying toclaw its way out.
It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Except in those vids, in those weird stories he read back on the base on Earth.
His first instinct had been to back up. Which is when he noticed that the thing seemed to have turned, to follow Walker’s movements. Walker had felt its eyes locked on him, studying him as the claws banged even louder against the glass.
The circle of scientists had also now backed away, but they had looked at Walker, seeing that the thing in the glass case had its eyes on him.
Finally Dr. Betruger’s voice had cut through the air. “Everyone, back to work. Get the hell back now.”
The head scientist had turned to Walker. The marine had imagined that his eyes must have looked puffy, bulging out of his head.So goddamn scared…
“You. You…listen to me.”
Walked pushed open the cafeteria doors. No one was looking at him now. No one could guess his plan. What he was going to do.
Walker had finally looked at Betruger.
“You have seen nothing here, you understand?”
Walker had nodded.
“This is alltop security. Completely protected by National Security. If you so much”—Betruger had clenched his fists—“as say a goddamn single word about this, then you will spend the rest of your life out there, walking patrol in the goddamn frozen Martian night. You want that?”
Walker had cleared his throat.
“N-no sir. I—”
“Good. Then forget all this. Back to your post.”
Walker had
walked slowly, taking so much care with every step, and with every step wondering,Is the thing still looking at me?
The clattering of the claws had begun to fade. Voices had begun talking again. The sound of something heavy being wheeled away—the glass tank perhaps.
He had finally turned when he was well away, back at his post. The tank had been moved to the rear of the expansive lab.
And that’s when Walker had started thinking about his plan.
The door to the cafeteria closed behind him. The hallway was full of people. His hand slid down to his sidearm. He made sure the gun’s safety was off. Then he started walking toward Mars City reception.
He’d have to wait. Time his move. It would be tricky. Nobody else knew it yet, but Private James Walker was about to get the hell out of this place.
“So you know guys up here?”
Maria wanted to tell Rodriguez to just give it up. She wasn’t on Mars to socialize, and even if she was, it was highly doubtful he’d be the first one she’d hit on.
She looked at the whole Martian experience as a way of escaping all that. For a year. Maybe more. The relationship thing had never been her forte, and this place seemed as good as any for getting away from it.
She glanced at Rodriguez. Not a bad-looking kid, anyway. Being the newbie here, she didn’t want to completely blow him off.
“Know? You mean, do I have any friends here?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“No. I came here to get away from whatever friends I had.” She fixed the other grunt with her eyes, hoping her next words found their mark. “And I’m not in the market for any new ones.”
Rodriguez nodded. “Gotcha. Good place for that. Long shifts. Work you like crazy up here. But good for your bank account. When I get back to Earth, I’m gonna be able to party big-time.”
“Good for you,” she said, turning away.
She looked at the conference room. Still sealed up tight.
Then she concentrated on her surroundings, looking up and down the corridor. This place could be any subterranean industrial headquarters anywhere on Earth. The lighting, the hallway. Certainly nothing “Martian” about it.
Doom 3™: Worlds on Fire Page 6