by Chris Reher
“What sort of planes?”
“Sebasta came on a Fleetfoot, same as one of the others. The Brothers are using a loaded Trident.”
Captain Whiteside nodded. “If we can get the captives out and onto one of those ships we should be able to get away without backtracking through the pyramid.”
“They’ve got a lot of ships in orbit,” Ciela said. “And Sebasta has more armament than I’ve seen on any transport. You’ll have a fight on your hands.”
“I’m counting on it. Don’t worry; between Seth and me we’ll have them shooting each other.”
“You have a lot of confidence,” Ciela muttered while the captain conferred with her team about a course of action.
“They breed ‘em for that,” Seth said with a wink. He tapped the pistol holster hidden beneath her vest. “Don’t use that unless you have to. You’re too dangerous. To us.”
She pinched his arm, out of sight of the others.
“Lasers only,” Whiteside said. “Who knows what those windows are made of. Try not to break any. Clear out the uglies to get across to the target. Retan and Jessana cover the stairs to the upper level. Two weeks furlough for each Brother you wax. Seth, you and your friend will cover the captives while we bully through to the ships.”
“Ciela,” Ciela corrected her.
“Right. Ciela. You’re to get to the umbilicals leading to the nearest ship, no matter what goes on. We may need you to hack into the egress ports. Are your people able to use weapons?”
“Deely, the bald one, is a good shot. Luanie, too, but she gets nervous.” Ciela shrugged. “You’re basically dealing with civilians. We’ve been trained but we haven’t really seen a lot of combat.”
“Wonderful.” Whiteside adjusted her weapon. “Free fire on sight. No one gets up.”
A low buzz alerted them to the captain’s com band. She lowered the volume and held it to her ear. Her eyebrows rose. “Fighting on both flight decks. Sounds bad.” She listened to more talk on the com bands.
Seth snapped his fingers. “Oh, did I mention Cie Pacoby is pretending to be friends with Sebasta these days and got himself invited?”
Captain Whiteside gave him a look that suggested a response better not articulated.
“Yes,” Ciela said. “But he was going to blow something up, not start shooting.”
The officer continued to listen to the com band. “Sounds like the Shri-Lan started this. They’ve got Arawaj outnumbered.”
“Why do I think my earlier hunch was right?” Seth said. “The Brothers are going to grab the spanners and call off this whole alliance thing. They don’t need Sebasta or his band of traitors.”
“All this for a bunch of navigators?” Whiteside said. “No offense,” she added for Ciela. She gestured to her team. “Let’s use the diversion. Expect response from upstairs coming down this way. It’ll thin the herd. Go.”
Chapter Thirteen
The agents moved soundlessly up along the stairs, instinctively shaping their formation to the layout of the building. Seth blended easily into the unit, holding back to keep an eye on Ciela. The troop stopped as one and ducked behind the central support when footsteps thundered toward them; a detail dispatched to the skirmish taking place below. They opened silent fire at the last possible moment, blasting indiscriminately into the knot of rebels coming their way until a dozen bodies lay scattered over the stairs.
A moment’s silence followed, waiting for more. Whiteside signaled for them to continue moving up and they soon reached the landing. With more hand signals, they spread out, making their way to the open, windowed area Ciela had pointed out. Two more rebels met them and were dispatched.
At the end of a corridor, the big Centauri agent bent to place a crawler onto the floor. The tiny camera-carrying robot scurried along a wall and fed its data back to his wrist unit. He signaled to the others: fifteen rebels, much activity, no order. As expected.
Whiteside signaled and the agents poured into the room to fan out and open fire on the surprised rebels. The schematics they had studied only showed the room’s shape and the pillars that supported the topmost level and control tower. Furniture, once quite elegant for this remote location, cluttered the lounge to offer cover for both sides.
Their fire was silent and they moved in a way that suggested a greater attack force, but the rebels outnumbered them three to one and followed no organized strategy in their defense. Confused shouts rang out, no doubt alerting more of the rebels upstairs. The Vanguard agents seemed to be everywhere, yet their line moved systematically forward until two darted to the staircase leading up while the others shifted to the room holding the spanners.
Seth fired at a rebel running past the windows. The Feydan tried to jump aside and slammed into the sloping window before he fell to the floor. Whatever the window was made of held up against the assault.
Ciela reached the door to pick the lock but Captain Whiteside simply raised a heavy boot and slammed it below the door handle. “This isn’t a dungeon,” she said when the door sprang open. She stepped inside, weapon raised to look for more rebels. “Everyone back!” she shouted, unsure which of these people was actually a rebel.
Ciela moved in behind her when a Human dropped onto the captain from the rafters above. She went down face-first. The rebel’s fist gripped the knot of red hair at her nape and slammed her head onto the metal floor as he set his pistol to her neck.
“Hey!” Ciela lunged forward, knife in hand. She threw all of her weight at the rebel and buried the blade into his side, avoiding the muscles of his chest which could too easily tighten around her knife. She withdrew it and slashed again before he, in a panic, threw her off. He lurched backward when she went after him, feinting and stabbing. Then his surprise wore off and he raised his gun only to find her ducking under his massive arm to deliver another deep wound into his gut. He howled in pain and fury and dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. She groped for her gun and ended it.
The captain came to her feet. “Thanks. Civilian, huh? Not bad.” She touched her forehead and then cursed when her fingers came away bloody. She turned to the others crowded against the far wall. “Let’s go. Move!”
They entered the lounge, now cleared of rebels, and joined Seth in a race to the door leading to the docking ports. Across the expanse of the lounge another door also led outside, located at the foot of a staircase leading upward. Whiteside muttered another oath when she saw one of her men on the floor. She gestured to the others. “Outside!”
A tracer strafed past her to sear a line into the floor and she lunged forward to roll behind a food station. The spanners huddled behind two of the pyramid’s support pillars.
More rebels than expected now came down the stairway, firing but making no move into the open space as they covered the hulking shapes of the Brothers among them. The two men were of K’lar origin, densely-built and walking with a pronounced stoop as was common among their desert-dwelling people. Their guards, better trained than the average Shri-Lan, fired at the Vanguard officers to keep them down as the two leaders slipped through the door and onto the glassed-in passage to the ships.
“What the…” Seth heard Ciela gasp behind him. Two cruisers soared past the windows, firing at something below them, perhaps clearing the way for the Brothers to escape.
“Looks like they’re taken the fight outside,” Seth said.
Astounded, all those still inside flinched when a metal partition suddenly crashed down from above to seal the docks from the rest of the building, plunging the lounge into darkness before the overhead lights realized they had work to do.
“Whoa,” Ciela said. “Didn’t see that on the maps.”
“Back!” Whiteside yelled, waving at them from her cover when the remaining rebels fired in their direction. “Seth, get them the hell out of here.”
“Go!” Seth turned to the frightened spanners behind him. “That way! Ciela, the elevator.”
The Vanguard held back the abandoned rebels a
s Seth and the spanners raced across the lounge and back to the corridor. Seth snatched a gun from the floor near a fallen rebel and handed it to Deely.
“Go go go,” he yelled when the others hesitated at the door of the lift. He shoved them forward, into the car, and fired back outside while the doors closed. Ciela hit the button for the lowest floor before turning to throw herself into Miko’s arms. “We found you!” she cried. “Gods, I was so worried.” She hugged Luanie and then kissed Deely on his bald pate.
Seth looked around. “We’re not out yet.” He found his thoughts wandering back to the Vanguard officers they had left behind and reminded himself to keep his focus on these captives. He scrutinized the three blonde women who looked strangely identical. “Triplets? Delphian triplets? That’s unheard of. They’re lucky to make one kid at a time. No wonder you keep calling them ‘the girls’.”
“What’s going on?” Deely said to Ciela. “How did you find us?”
“We’re here with Pacoby’s crew,” Ciela said with a quick glance at Seth. “I’ll explain later.”
The elevator came to a halt and both Seth and Ciela aimed their guns as the door opened.
“Where the hell are we now?”
“The Taancer factory,” Ciela said, looking out over the dusty hall. “Guess this elevator doesn’t go all the way down.”
“All right. Staircase. Quick now.”
An unnerving squeal rose into the air. They turned to see one of the Taancers race toward them, even dropping to all fours to use its powerful legs to leap over obstacles. The others shrank back when it jumped up onto the elevator platform but Seth put his hand on Ciela’s barrel.
“Our friend,” he said, recognizing the damaged nose.
The Taancer wheezed with the exertion of its dash to reach them. “People fight,” it said. “Why. Dead many. Planes in the air. Shooting.”
“We know. We need to get back to my ship.”
“No. Other people down below making bad.” The Taancer waved its arms in an unclear gesture. “Breaking generator. Will be hot light.”
“Hot light?” Ciela said.
“Fire? Explosion?” Seth guessed.
“Fire yes. With the bad air.”
“Pacoby,” Seth said. “He’s going to sabotage the generators.”
“If he is thinking about blowing the pyramid this whole valley is in trouble. Gods, Seth, this could get hot enough to get at the thorium upstairs. The radiation will kill everything.”
“Told you he was going for spectacle.”
“Pacoby wouldn’t do that,” Deely said. “Not with all these… these people in here.”
Seth looked to Ciela.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “He would. And he will if we don’t stop him.”
Seth gripped the Taancer’s arm. “Get your people out. Everybody. Try to get people out of town, into the hills. Everybody, understand? Go.”
The Taancer loped away without another word.
“Let’s get out of here before they open a door somewhere,” Seth said. “Stairway, now.”
Ciela led them to the metal staircase that had brought them up this way. “What are we going to do?”
“I have no idea. Let’s see how many Arawaj he’s got with him.”
“Bastard never meant to just blow the air field, did he?”
“No, I don’t think so. The eyes of Shri-Lan are on this place as long as the Brothers are out here. He wants to make his point.” He turned to the others. “Maybe you should wait here.”
“No,” Luanie, the white-haired member of the group, spoke up. “We stay together. Give me a gun.”
The others nodded. With a look to Ciela, Seth pulled a pistol from his belt. “Are you all as stubborn as this one?”
“More so,” Miko said. He gestured to one of the triplets. “Take your shoes off. They’re too noisy on the stairs. Hurry.”
She bent to follow his advice. Miko stepped out of his cloth shoes to remove his socks, short slips of exuberant purple. “This’ll help with the metal grating.”
Seth activated his scanner, hoping Pacoby was too busy to keep an eye on his. With the Taancers clearing out of the floors above, life signs were more easily detected here now, even with the interference from the electrical conduits.
He led the way to the next level and soon the sound of water and generators reached them from below. The vibrations moving through the metal plates under their feet were the same as before. No alarms sounded, suggesting that, whatever was going on, the system had not yet detected a problem. He recalled Ciela’s comment about the ancient gauges on some of these machines and decided not to count on alarms.
Wishing for one of Air Command’s crawlers, some of which were doing absolutely nothing aboard the Dutchman while he wished for them, he crept down to peer around the corner. His eyes confirmed the unstable readings on his scanner. “Pacoby and two others,” he whispered to Ciela. “Do you think you can work your way through the generator controls?”
She lifted her shoulders. “I could probably get in, but I wouldn’t know what to do. We can’t just shut them down. We’d suffocate.”
“We’ll have time. I’m more worried about the hydrogen.” He pointed up. Among the other conduits, power lines, and pipes rising upward along the staircase and elevator shaft, the one bearing an oxygen symbol branched into many directions above them. A larger pipe not far from this one seemed to lead straight up to the vent atop the pyramid.
She shook her head. “If he closes the vent the reduction will stop. It’ll have fail safes.”
“He only needs to cause a leak somewhere. There are air pipes everywhere, including the flight decks, and they’ll have emergency oxygen tanks. He’ll incinerate the pyramid, all the loot stored here, anyone still upright and I’m guessing most of the town outside. And we may end up with radiation as well.”
“So what do we do?” Miko said.
The others waited silently to be told what to do, as always, perhaps not even realizing that their Arawaj days were numbered. Like the Taancers, like the Shaddallamites and Naiyads and so many others, they were just hapless victims caught up in someone else’s disagreement. Brainwashed, corrupted, maybe delayed too far to ever take their place in Delphi’s highly organized society.
“Arawaj,” Seth said when an idea struck him. “He doesn’t know. Pacoby doesn’t know who I am.” He looked to Ciela. “Who you are.”
A smirk formed on her lips when she understood his plan. “No, he doesn’t.”
“Make noise.” Seth waved them along and continued down the stairs, letting his boots land heavily on each riser.
The others followed, a little less enthusiastically, until they came to the control floor landing where Pacoby’s gun greeted them. One of his guards also stood by with a poised weapon. The third Arawaj carried only some tools.
“Whoa! Wait,” Seth said, sounding surprised. He raised his hands. “Take it slow, boss. What are you doing here?”
Pacoby studied the group for a few uncomfortable moments before lowering his gun and beckoning his men to stand down. For some reason it was no surprise that he had covered his impeccable clothing with a lab coat for his task here. The two Caspians that Seth had disabled earlier now lay at the other end of the platform, blood caked on their hides and dripping through the grate. “You were told to stay near the ships,” he said while his narrowed eyes studied the people who had come down with Seth and Ciela. “But I see you found your people.”
“Yes, this is the lot.”
“Get back to the docks, quickly,” Pacoby said, almost absently, as he turned back to the generator control board.
“They’re fighting on the flight decks,” Seth said. “I’m guessing our people aren’t getting along very well.”
“That isn’t unusual.” Pacoby shrugged. “I had the presence of mind to leave a pilot on each of my ships. You should be able to reach them if you hurry. A little distraction will keep the Shri-Lan busy for a while longer. These controls are
… stubborn.”
“What are you doing?” Ciela said. “You said you were going to destroy the air field.”
“That’s hardly worth anyone’s notice.” Pacoby raised a hand to caress the bank of indicators on the wall above the console. “This weapon is what I’ve dreamed of.”
“Weapon?”
He walked to the edge of the platform and leaned over a railing to look up where support structures spanned several of the pyramid’s floors. “That worked. We’re ready here now,” he said to the com band on his wrist. “You can evacuate as soon as the shunt springs.” Apparently someone far above them gave some sort of signal and so he nodded and returned to Seth and the spanners.
He traced a manicured finger around a plain, black input panel. A single bar scrolled evenly across it. A gentle smile lit his pinched face. “Alarms are down, backup vents are perforated and now I’ll just shut down the main exhaust. From here the hydrogen will rise through all floors. After that, a single, random spark will incinerate this entire building inside out. The entire Shri-Lan treasure hoard, up in flames.” He turned his gaze to the spanners. “We’ll have enough time to get out. Return to the ships now. I will trust Mr. Kada to keep you out of sight of whatever is going on out there.”
The triplets exchanged confused glances and moved toward the stairs leading down.
“Stop!” Ciela said, likely confusing them even more. She turned to Pacoby. “Don’t do this. It’s too much.”
“This is just a bunch of Shri-Lan,” Deely said. “Who cares? Let’s get out of this place already.”