When Darkness Reigns

by Preston L. Marshall

  The next floor nearly emptied the cabin. There was final room to get some personal space. The next floor only cost them one occupant, but in return they took on three more. It went much the same all the way up. A couple more stops though and it was just them and one other person. She had the look of an officer about her. She had her light brown hair cut almost as short as Lumar's was now. Her face looked prematurely aged from stress. She had a Silver Eagle on her uniform. Lumar couldn't remember what rank a Silver Eagle was, but he knew it was one of the higher ones. She got off one floor before them.

  Lumar was glad when they finally reached the top. The elevator let out onto a wide open lobby, a welcome change from the cramped elevator. Lumar noticed that the cargo elevator didn’t come up this far, only the two smaller ones.

  There were rows of chairs in front of the elevators. A central aisle through them led towards a desk identical to the one that greeted them at the medical examination ward yesterday. The inhabitant of this desk was the polar opposite of the wispy-headed old man. This receptionist was a young vivacious woman with long curly blonde hair tumbling down her chest and shoulders. She was wearing the same uniform that they were, but she'd let the top two buttons go neglected giving a generous display of her cleavage. She was wearing a tasteful amount of makeup, lipstick, eyeshadow, a touch of blush on her cheekbones. All told she looked very inviting and warm compared the old man's cold, frightening demeanor.

  Radcliff walked up to the desk, leaving the others near the elevator. There were a few others sitting in the waiting room. There was a pair of male officers sitting up straight in their seats like they were too rigid to sit comfortably. There was also a group of four soldiers that didn't look like officers in their armor. They all had their helmets on with their visors closed so Lumar couldn't tell anything else about them. Lumar wondered if they were napping inside there. They looked like they'd been sitting there for a long time. They'd moved some of the chairs around so they could lay back and prop up their feet.

  “Sergeant Miller and company to see General Derricks,” he informed the pretty receptionist.

  Lumar was surprised by the sound of her voice. He half expected her to be some bimbo just there to look good when people made their way up to visit the brass. Her tan and the rest of her look made him think she was going to have a southern belle's drawl, but instead her voice was hard and precise.

  “The General is expecting you,” she said. “You're late. You were supposed to be here before O eight hundred. It's five after. However, that means you don't have to wait. You'll find the General in office number six. It's the last door on the left behind my right shoulder here. Don't keep him waiting any longer.”

  “Yes ma'am,” Radcliff answered completely unphased by her tone.

  “God help you,” the receptionist said. “The General hasn't been in a good mood since yesterday.”

  “I'll keep that in mind, thank you,” he replied. “Come on kids. Let's not keep him waiting any more than we have to.”

  “Score,” Wallace said to Jesse. “Not a minute of waiting, unlike those guys.” Wallace pointed at the sleeping soldiers.

  “Seen. Not heard,” Radcliff reminded him.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Wallace sighed.

  They marched back to office number six. Radcliff took a deep breath before knocking on the door.

  “Come in,” a voice beckoned from within.

  Radcliff grabbed the handle of the door. The silver doorknob was completely swallowed in the palm of his hand. He hesitated a moment before opening the door. When he opened it, he walked through briskly. Ford, Jesse, and Wallace lined up behind him facing the General. Lumar and Nate took their places beside them in a line parallel to the General's desk. All six of their right arm's shot up to their foreheads with Lumar and Nate only a fraction of a second behind the others.

  The General stood up from behind his desk and straightened his uniform. He was wearing the same thing the rest of them were, but his uniform was adorned with three gold stars and a plethora of colored rectangles on his chest. There was a moment of silence while the General looked them over. He seemed content to just let them hold their salute.

  Lumar's eyes wandered around the room while they were being scrutinized. He didn't dare turn his head, but he let his eyes wander. The General's office reminded him of their bunkhouse with all of its mismatched furnishings. However instead of being a random amalgam of items pulled together thoughtlessly, the General looked as though he'd intentionally chosen the most extravagant pieces he could put together regardless of their lack of uniformity.

  His desk was beautifully carved red mahogany. The feet were shaped like lion's claws. On the front face was an ornate pattern of spiraling shapes like waves converging and spreading over the surface. The top of the desk was glass covering a shadow box of the General's trophies, mostly medals with emblems Lumar didn't recognize. There was also a knife and an ornate gilded revolver in the case.

  An overstuffed brown leather couch with golden legs and arms took most of the wall on the left. Opposite it was another similarly styled couch with shiny red leather and black supports. There were a pair of chairs on their side of the desk that matched. They were black wooden bar stools with geometric square legs. At their summits were inviting velvet green cushions.

  The walls had paintings on them in gold and silver frames. One was a log cabin by a river using mostly cool colors to unify the piece in a calming way. Another was a sunset, warm colors over a tan beach and deep blue sea. The last painting was a portrait of the General himself. The background of the painting was a field of black. The General's face was younger than the man in front of them, unless that was the way the artist had decided to take his likeness. Both were graying with a touch of black peppered in clinging to its former glory. The General in front of them had thin, nearly colorless lips while the artists had given them some pink. In both the painting and in reality he had wide black eyes beneath thin dark eyebrows. The painting made his eyes look a bit smaller than on his true face, but maybe that was just the tilt of his head that the artists captured. His nose was smaller in the painting than in real life as well. It wasn't a huge nose, but it had a slight hook that made it look more prominent than the artist's version.

  There were also the obligatory framed papers on the walls, certificates, diplomas, and other credentialing documents. The last feature of the room was the other two men that accompanied the General. He had a pair of soldiers standing behind him in full armor. They were armed only with pistols and had MP printed on their armor next to the mountain logo.

  Lumar wondered what the General was doing while he was looking around the room. He wasn't sure he wanted to make eye contact with the man. He had no idea what he was like or what he would do or say. Lumar chanced it. The General's eyes were primarily on Radcliff, but occasionally his gaze shifted to the others. He was grinning with his thin lips. They almost disappeared into the folds of his clean shaven face.

  “At ease, gentlemen. And lady,” the General added. He had a smooth voice that seemed almost British to Lumar. He must have been a Yankee.

  Their hands fell back to their sides, but not even Radcliff said anything after they were allowed to let their arms rest.

  “Good morning Sergeant Miller, I’m excited to be working with you again.”

  “Thank you sir,” Radcliff replied. He frowned a little after his mouth closed again.

  “Let me first apologize for what happened in Sangent,” the General said. “There's really no way I can sugarcoat what happened. The city was my responsibility and I failed to protect it. I know there were communication problems, but I am personally committed to setting this right.”

  “We appreciate that sir,” Radcliff said.

  “You're welcome to speak freely. You don't have to be that formal with me.”

  “Of course, habit I guess,” Radcliff replied.

  “Not a bad one to have I suppose. I know it's hardly a consolation but there was some goo
d news in regards to the Sangent incident. You're Nathan Solaris aren't you?” the General asked turning to Nate.

  “Y-yes sir,” Nate replied.

  “I'm told you were working on a prototype to improve the Crusader combat mech. It was a software upgrade mostly I understand?”

  “Software and a new elbow joint, sir.”

  “You'll be pleased to know that your prototype was recovered. Your work can now be used to improve other units. You should be very proud of what you've accomplished. One of my experts said the prototype was almost as big of an upgrade from the current model as when we first started integrating alien tech into our designs.”

  Nate looked embarrassed. His cheeks turned pink. “Thank you sir. I'm glad it was helpful. I worked hard on it. What are you going to do with it now? Do you want me to continue working on the Crusaders here?”

  “No,” the General replied. “That won't be necessary. Moving forward will be a long and boring process of upgrading current models and manufacturing new models using your design. It seems your contract ended when you were done with the prototype anyway. Besides, Sergeant Miller here will need you for your next assignment.”

  “Alright. I mean, yes sir,” Nate said.

  “Unfortunately that was the extent of the good news,” the General said. “However I intend to rectify that and I need your help to do it.”

  “What do you have in mind, sir?” Radcliff asked.

  “I have a special mission for you. Think of it as revenge for what the Sarsaul have put you all through. No one has suffered as much as you have during this tragedy. That's why I know you won’t fail me. I'm sending you back to Sangent. It may be hard to believe, but we were unable to prevent some of the Sarsaul force from escaping during our counterattack. Shadow Hammer was engaged by a large number of dragonflies in the air and tarantulas on the ground. By the time she finished them off, the bulk of the Sarsaul's infantry had retreated. Then of course I ordered her crew to recover your prototype Nathan. We couldn't risk that pursuing our enemy.”

  “So we return to Sangent. Then what?” Radcliff asked.

  “First, I want you to make sure we didn't miss any survivors. It's unlikely that you'll find anyone, the Sarsaul are nothing if not thorough, but if anyone survived I want you to recover them. Take your time, but keep in mind the longer you spend, more likely the trail is to go cold. Once you find their base of operations I want you to set up a Lighthouse Beacon. It should be strong enough to penetrate any jamming signals they have in the area. As soon as the beacon is set I'm planning on making sure nothing is left alive for miles. So don't be there when we show up.”

  “Understood sir,” said Radcliff. “Besides the Lighthouse, what will we be taking with us?”

  “I've sent ahead to the armory on the second floor. I told them to give you anything you feel is appropriate for the task. I trust you know what you need better than I ever could. I took the liberty of having your armor repaired and got your new squad mates sets that will suit them better. I'm having a truck being prepared in the garage for the mission as well. By the time you get there it should have all the provisions you'll need for the job. Does that sound sufficient to the task?”

  “I believe so sir.”

  “Good. I thought you'd approve. Now go. There's no time to waste.”

  “Will do sir,” Radcliff answered with a salute.

  The others followed his example. Radcliff let his hand drop a second after raising it and spun on his heels for the door.

  “Good luck,” the General called after them.

  They were back in the lobby and waiting for the elevator in moments. The soldiers in their armor were still sprawled out sleeping, but the pair of officers had left. No newcomers had appeared. Radcliff pressed the down button. It responded to his touch with a warm red glow, but nothing else. Lumar stood staring at the door for a full minute, but it didn't open. Lumar remembered how long it had taken them to make it this far up while they were riding the elevator earlier. It would probably take just as long for the cabin to make it this far again.

  Lumar turned away from the elevator doors. One of the sleepers' feet slipped off the chair he'd pulled up and he woke with a start. He stood up quickly and flipped his visor up. He looked around with a confused look on his face for a moment before sitting back down. He'd managed to wake up his fellows in the process. One of them took off their helmet, a woman with long red hair. It looked like her hair had filled up most of the helmet when it came pouring out over her shoulders. She stood up and made for the receptionist's desk. The receptionist was leaning forward on her hands, staring out into space.

  “How much longer is Derricks going to keep us waiting out here?” the redhead asked.

  “He hasn't sent for you. Sit back down,” the receptionist replied without moving anything but her lips. She didn't even look at the other woman.

  “We were here before them and they've already gotten to see him!”

  The elevator bell rang and the doors opened on an empty cabin. Lumar tore his eyes away from the arguing women and stepped on.

  “Aw man,” Wallace sighed. “That looks like it's just starting to get good.”

  “Eyes front bitch,” Jesse said punching Wallace in the shoulder.

  A soon as Nate and Lumar were on board Radcliff made the doors close manually. Even after the doors closed Lumar could hear the shrill sound of screaming, but the metal around them drowned out the words.

  “This thing doesn't even go all the way down to the garage,” Radcliff observed.

  “Probably just have to take it as far down as it goes and find another that goes lower,” Ford suggested.

  “That sounds like a pain in the ass,” Wallace replied.

  “It's probably to slow down intruders or something,” Radcliff said.

  Lumar felt his ears popping as the elevator plummeted down floor after floor. It started making his head hurt. The elevator stopped halfway through the list of floors for another group of passengers. Lumar was glad it did. He felt like his head was going to burst.

  “Going down?” a soldier said as he and three others stepped in.

  The soldier pushed another button a few floors down from their current location. The elevator plunged into motion again until they arrived at the second groups destination. When they got off another group tried to get on, but Radcliff put himself in front of the doorway and pushed the button to force the doors closed.

  “Was that necessary?” Ford asked.

  “We've got somewhere to be,” Radcliff replied. “I don't want to spend all day in this thing.”

  Ford shrugged and the elevator fell further. No one else called for the elevator on their way to the bottom of the shaft. They all seemed grateful for that. Lumar was mostly just grateful for the elevation to stay the same for a few minutes. Lumar could only guess at how far they'd descended, but he imagined it had to have been at least half of the height of the mountain in only a few minutes.

  They stepped out onto another living space. This one however wasn't military barracks. It was a small city. Unlike their barrack's level the elevator hub was not the bottom floor of the cavern, but more like the buckle on the belt that encircled the city's waist. The hub was nearly the same. It still had its elevators and the huge central cargo lift looked like it continued up and down uninhibited unlike the elevator they'd just come out of.

  The city was a giant cylindrical mass of apartment buildings and workplaces that kept the city running. There were ramps from the belt that led down to the different levels. On the left side from the elevators were four ramps in Lumar's view that went up and four that went down. They were evenly spaced around the cylinder in radial symmetry. Lumar imagined it would have looked like a spiral sunburst from above, but the cylinder reached all the way to the ceiling so that wouldn't have been possible other than in the blueprints.

  Violating the symmetrical pattern, the architect had created were thousands of pipes running between the cylinder and the walls and
ceiling around it. Lumar knew what they were for. They were the mountain's arteries. The pipes carried the water, electricity, and waste in and out. It was loud with the sounds of machines and people moving and talking.

  Radcliff found the elevator he wanted and then they were moving again. The new elevator was nearly identical to the other except that this one couldn't go any higher than the city. There were only ten floors left from the bottom. Radcliff punched two and one. He didn't let anyone get on during this trip either even though they were stopped three times on the way down.

  Lumar imagined it must have been nice to be that big. Nobody was in a position to tell him no. Lumar was thin as a scarecrow. He'd never be able to get away with something like that. If someone wanted to get by him all they had to do was push a little. If Radcliff put his arms out, he could almost completely block the door of the elevator. It saved them a lot of time. At least when they'd stopped for the brief moments to deny passage to others it gave Lumar's ears a rest from the fall for a few seconds.

  The doors finally opened on the second floor. Unlike most of the other places they'd gotten off there was only a small space in front of them. The elevator lobby on this floor seemed to just open out onto a hallway of mostly unpainted stone save for the white stained floor.

  “Ford,” Radcliff said before getting off, “go ahead and ride this the rest of the way down and get the truck ready. I'll bring you your stuff. Any special requests?”

  “Not really,” Ford answered. “I hope I'm not going to be doing any fighting on this one. I hope none of us are honestly. Just give me a rifle and my armor.”

  “Got it. I'll see you down there in a few.”

  The rest of them stepped out into the hallway and let Ford ride alone down to the garage. The hallway they came out on abruptly ended on the right into a small sitting area with a view of the elevators. Lumar imagined a politer group of passengers could take a long time to get from top to bottom. He didn't have a watch, but he felt like it must have been getting close to ten by now.