by Shawn Davis
Bruce hasn’t taken a shot since the dragon started shooting its flames low. He must be ducking under the water to avoid being caught on fire. That’s what I would do. He can only hold his breath for so long.
The robot unleashed an unrelenting barrage of flames at the rock. Rayne stopped a hundred feet from the dragon and aimed his crossbow.
“Hey, what are you doing? We’re not close enough yet for a head shot!” Diane shouted.
“If we don’t distract it now, Bruce is going to get charbroiled,” Peter said, firing an arrow.
Rayne watched the arrow shoot toward the dragon’s back and strike one of its tremendous wings. The robot stopped shooting flames toward the rock and turned to face its new opponents.
“All right. You got its attention. Now what?” Diane asked, taking aim with her crossbow.
At that moment, Brad and Jennifer stepped out from behind a large stalagmite and pointed their crossbows at the dragon. Brad fired first, striking the dragon’s left wing. Jennifer fired a split second later, striking its undulating neck. The dragon turned toward the newcomers, spewing flame from its cavernous maw.
The fire shot toward Brad and Jennifer like a flamethrower, enveloping them in a bonfire-like conflagration. They were incinerated in seconds. Peter’s eyes widened as he watched them disintegrate into ash.
“My God, those were my friends! If you have a plan B, now might be the time to try it,” Diane said, glaring, horrified, at the smoking pile of ash.
“Sure, I have a plan. Run!” Rayne shouted, lowering his crossbow and hobbling as fast as he could toward the cavern entrance.
“I hear that,” Diane said, following his lead.
Diane quickly outdistanced him as they headed toward the doorway. Peter glanced over his shoulder and saw the dragon stomping out of the lake on its hind legs. It dropped to all fours and began moving diagonally to cut off their only escape.
It’s as if it knows where we’re going!
Looking over his shoulder again, Rayne saw the dragon closing in on them from fifty feet away.
He’s going to get us both unless I do something!
At the last possible second, Rayne swerved and moved away from the doorway, giving the dragon two targets to chase after. It paused in its pursuit as it assimilated the new information. The pause was all they needed. Diane made it to the door while Peter ran for a tall stalagmite near the back wall. He figured he could use it for temporary cover, while he tried to figure out a way to elude or distract the dragon.
Then, maybe I can make another try for the doorway.
Rayne hid behind the large stalagmite and felt a strange sensation: a cool rush of air on the back of his neck. Spinning around, he saw a metal grate in the wall.
An air duct!
Peering around the stalagmite, Rayne watched the dragon charging toward him spewing flames. Turning to the metal grate, he searched for latches to open it. Finding none, he tried smashing it with his crossbow. That didn’t work, so he pulled an arrow from the quiver and used the tip to pry open the edge of the grate. He was successful and the metal grate gave way. Looking back, he saw a bright orange stream of flames moving steadily toward him. Dropping his weapon, he scrambled into the narrow air duct.
Rayne felt a surge of frustration as he pulled his entire body into the metal tunnel with the exception of his lower legs. Intense heat burned his feet through the soles of his shoes as he crawled into the air duct.
Chapter 21
The Lab
Glancing over his shoulder, Peter saw bright flames consuming the duct opening. He crawled out of range before they could reach him.
A few seconds later and I would have been incinerated. What’s wrong with this place! It’s supposed to be a place for people to have fun! The new AI system has caused the robots to overshoot their original programming – turning them into killers.
Crawling ahead several more feet, Rayne estimated he was safely out of the dragon’s range. A strong rush of air struck his face and body with the force of a storm wind. It cooled his skin under his torn dress shirt. Lifting his head too high, he was rewarded with a bump against the metal duct ceiling.
The airflow intensified as Rayne crawled forward. Tattered shreds of his ripped dress shirt blew back like streamers flapping over his body. After experiencing the intense heat of the dragon’s breath, the cool air felt soothing. Crawling ahead, he ran out of space.
The duct floor sloped suddenly downward at a ninety-degree angle. Peter was crawling forward at a steady pace, so he didn’t realize he ran out of floor until it was too late. He slid down a steep incline that was like a smooth underground slide. Collapsing onto his stomach, he extended his arms in front of him like a diver as his body shot down the smooth metal tunnel.
If the slide ends at a wall, I’ll get knocked out.
Rayne tried to slow his progress by grabbing the walls and the floor, but the metal was too smooth. His body raced downward for several seconds, building up speed like a juggernaut. Bracing himself as best he could for an eventual end to the slide, he ducked his head and shielded it with his arms.
Rayne had a sudden inspiration and pressed the sides of his shoes against the walls like brakes, slowing him down. This happened at an opportune time as his arms struck a metal grill. The force of his body smashed it loose. He hit the ground with a heavy thud, knocking the wind out of him. He turned slowly on his side and rolled onto his back.
As Rayne regained his bearings, he reached into his pocket for his laser lighter and flicked it on. He was in a silver, steel-walled chamber. He got to his knees, stood up, and held the lighter in front of him. Exploring the area, he found he was in a narrow tunnel that faded into darkness in both directions. The illumination from his lighter only revealed about twenty feet down the tunnel either way.
Rayne chose a direction at random and walked into darkness. He continued until he reached a dead-end with a steel door set in the wall. The sign above read “DARK WORLD CONTROL ROOM Y.” To the left of the door was a small wrist scanner similar to the one at his former warehouse job.
I must be in a maintenance tunnel beneath the Powerdrome. I’ve reached my objective a day early! I wonder if Campion will be angry with me for deviating from the official plan? Fuck her. I’m here now, so I’m going to explore the place. So what if I’m not supposed to be here until tomorrow? What difference does it make?
Rayne figured the only problem was the way he was dressed. The right sleeve of his dress shirt was tied around his left ankle. His dress pants and shirt were ripped in several places. His shirt, pants, shoes, and socks had been soaked in grimy water several times. He had a red nerve gel stain on his chest. His hands had black soot on them from the Dragon’s Lair. He had wiped sweat from his forehead several times, so he guessed he probably had soot on his face as well. In summary, he was a mess.
I’m supposed to visit the Control Center decked out in an expensive suit for my role as an AI trouble-shooter. Sure, I still have the proper wrist code, but if I run into anyone it will be difficult to explain my current appearance.
The door led to a Powerdrome control room. Rayne could think of no reason to go back to the Powerdrome.
That makes my options simple. Go the other way.
Turning around, he backtracked down the corridor using his lighter as a guide. He walked past the smashed metal air duct and continued onward. Eventually, he came to a large control panel with a row of switches on it. The first four switches were labeled; EMERGENCY GENERATOR SHUT-OFF. The next two switches were labeled; EMERGENCY AIR DUCT CONTAINMENT and EMERGENCY LIGHTS. He flicked the switch for the emergency lights.
The overhead fluorescents illuminated. The silver steel walls, floor, and ceiling gleamed brightly as if they had been polished. Lights ran down the center of the ceiling in a straight line until they disappeared in a linear perspective. Long lines of of gray metal pipes ran down the ceiling alongside the fluorescent lights. At certain intervals, smaller pipes branched out fro
m the larger ones, crisscrossing and connecting to the opposite walls.
Rayne bent down to check the bandage on his ankle. It had loosened considerably since the last time he checked it.
The good part is my wound has stopped bleeding. The bad part is my ankle is purple and has swollen to the size of a softball.
Wincing with pain, Peter pulled the bandage tighter and double-tied it. He gave up on his attempt to nurse himself and resumed limping down the corridor. Looking ahead, he observed the converging lines of the floor and ceiling. He suddenly remembered the map Campion gave him.
I know exactly where I am. The only problem is Campion’s map only goes so far. On the map, the tunnels fade out when they reach so-called Classified Areas.
Rayne passed numerous control panels as he continued down the steel corridor. He had no idea what they did and he didn’t care. The mystery lied at the end of the steel tunnel.
It all started to look the same to him until he spotted a steel door ahead. Red letters above the door read LOWER LEVELS –RESTRICTED AREA.
Lower levels? I thought I was in the lower levels already. Are there more levels beneath this one?
Next to the door was a wrist scanner.
Will the scanner recognize my Executive wrist code? Or will I set off an alarm that will bring security down on me like a ton of bricks? I have to take the risk. Even the classified areas must need computer technicians.
Rayne ran his wrist across the scanner and the door rushed open. He stepped into a closet-sized room and saw a vertical panel of letter and number codes. It was an elevator. He had no idea what any of the codes stood for, so he pressed one at random.
Peter felt his stomach rise as the elevator dropped at high speed. He felt slightly lightheaded as the elevator came to an abrupt halt. The label B-B SUB LEVEL 5 appeared on the screen above the elevator door.
The elevator door opened, revealing a spacious room. Unknown machines and equipment were scattered throughout it. Peter left the elevator and approached a long, rectangular table in the center of the room. A rough imprint of a human body was carved into the center of the table. A giant mechanical arm hovered from the ceiling above with a clear circular globe in the center of it. It looked like a powerful light source.
Is this an operating room?
There were several hospital gurneys lined up against the far wall. Looking around, Rayne saw another rectangular table near the right wall with an identical mechanical arm hovering over it. Approaching it, he found another human body imprint carved into its surface.
Clearly, someone is supposed to lie down in the imprint. It must be an operating room. But, why would they have an operating room so far underground?
Rayne surveyed the spacious chamber. The machines, gurneys, and operating tables appeared pristine and untouched. There was a pair of metal double doors set in the far wall.
I must be in some kind of high-tech operating room located deep under the Powerdrome, possibly somewhere near the entrance to the nuclear reactor beneath New Washington. Where do I go from here? I’m certainly not going back to the Powerdrome. My only choice is to go forward and try to complete the mission.
Peter limped across the gleaming white floor, trying to put most of his weight on his uninjured ankle.
Despite all the setbacks I’ve encountered, I’m going to finish what I started. Campion will be proud.
Rayne’s eyes darted to the right-hand corner of the operating room. He saw a line of sinks next to a long clothing rack containing green hospital scrubs.
What a lucky break!
Peter limped as fast as he could to the corner rack. Hastily, he took down a green smock, which looked as if it would fit him. He pulled it down over his shoulders. Glancing in a mirror over the closest sink, he saw the garment completely covered his torn and bloody shirt.
Grabbing a pair of green hospital pants, he held them up to his lower body. They looked like they were too big, so he tried another slightly smaller pair. The second pair seemed to fit, so he peeled off his torn and bloody suit pants and put on the hospital scrub pants. He threw his ruined pants into a trashcan under the closest sink.
He even found a line of green facemasks hanging on the wall next to the clothes rack. Taking one down, he placed it around his neck. He bent down to check his ankle wound. Removing the bloody bandage, he observed the large purple bruise had now swollen to the size of a small grapefruit.
At least it has stopped bleeding.
Rayne threw the bloody bandage into the nearby trashcan. He looked in the mirror and saw black smudges on his face.
Ash from the dragon’s lair.
Bending over the sink, Rayne washed his hands and face as black soot flowed down the drain. Looking in the mirror again, he realized he resembled a typical operating room attendant.
Good. It’s time to try out my new disguise.
Peter walked cautiously toward the operating room’s double doors. He opened one and stepped into a white-walled hallway with bright fluorescent lights in the ceiling. The corridor was very wide and resembled a modern hospital corridor. Peter tried to act as if he belonged in the area as he walked down the bright hallway. He attempted to minimize his limp as much as possible so as not to draw any attention to himself.
Rayne walked by numerous people wearing the same green scrubs. It looked like most of them were intent on important business. Two attendants wearing scrubs pushed a patient past him on a stretcher. He walked past a middle-aged, gray-haired man in a dark suit, who looked like a stereotypical doctor. Gazing far down the hallway, he felt a chill run down his spine as he spotted a bright gleam from the blue body armor of a Shock Trooper.
Peter tried to appear unconcerned as the Trooper approached him. The Trooper was talking to another person wearing green scrubs walking alongside him and he didn’t take any notice of Peter as he walked by.
I’m blending in just fine. No one has looked at me twice, even with my slight limp.
Rayne studied the underground environment as he walked. The halls were lined with doorways. Some of the rooms looked like typical hospital rooms with adjustable beds, eating tables, and visitors’ chairs. Some were occupied by patients and some were empty. Other rooms looked like offices.
Continuing ahead, Rayne passed many pedestrians wearing business suits or hospital scrubs. He soon approached a long, clear, shoulder-level window on his right. Looking through it, he saw a spacious laboratory with large tables. The tables contained computers, electronic equipment, and other laboratory paraphernalia such as test tubes, beakers, and mechanical gadgets. A virtual army of white-coated scientists were hard at work, measuring and analyzing unknown materials. Peter saw a short, bald scientist carrying a large, clear container filled with translucent green liquid.
Rayne left the laboratory behind and soon reached a four-way intersection. He paused to let some green-scrubbed attendants wheel a patient on a stretcher past him. His ankle was really starting to bother him. He hoped to find a place where he could stop and rest soon, but the hallway appeared to be endless.
Rayne thought he might finally be approaching the end of the tunnel when he saw a tall, arched doorway looming ahead. It appeared wide enough to allow eight people to walk through side-by side. Approaching the doorway, he noticed the ubiquitous wrist scanner on the wall to the right of the door. A sign above the door written in bold red letters read BODY BANK LEVEL 5- AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Body bank? What the hell does that mean? Will my wrist code work in this area?
Rayne ran his hand across the scanner and breathed a sigh of relief as the door slid open. He wasn’t ready for the sight that met his eyes. He gazed upon a colossal chamber almost as large as the Breechlere warehouse.
Entering, he stared with fascination at the immense six-story chamber surrounded by four levels of catwalks. Looking up, he saw the ceiling was at least several hundred feet above him. The place appeared to be a hundred yards wide and the opposite end of the chamber looked to be a
half-mile away.
Bright fluorescent lights gleamed from the polished surfaces of endless rows of large glass tubes lined up along each of the four catwalk levels. The floor was dominated by two long rows of twenty-foot high generators extending the length of the immense chamber. A wide walkway led down the middle between the generators. Sporadic groups of white-coated technicians traveled the walkway, checking various areas of the tall machines.
Peter tried to appear confident and act as if he belonged in the area. Passing the white-coated technicians, he found they were all busy checking various gauges and control panels. About two hundred feet down the walkway, the generator on the right opened to a narrow passageway. He ducked into the passage and followed it to the end until he reached a gray steel door with a wrist scanner next to it.
I might as well try it. I’ve come this far on the wrist code.
Rayne ran his hand across the scanner and the door rushed open. He entered a moderate-sized room with computer terminals along the right and left walls. A lone gray metal door on the back wall was the only other entrance to the chamber. Each terminal had its own desk and chair.
How convenient.
Peter sat down at the closest terminal and scanned the luminous green words on the computer screen; BODY BANK LEVEL 5, MAIN MENU- PLEASE CHOOSE FROM THE FOLLOWING OPTIONS: MATERIAL PROFILES, OPERATION OPTIONS. Rayne clicked on MATERIAL PROFILES. A long sequence of numbers appeared in five vertical columns on the screen. Each column listed one hundred numbers in chronological order, totaling 500.
I might as well start at the beginning.
He clicked on the number one. A full-body photograph of a man filled the right side of the computer screen. A written report filled the left. The man looked to be in his early twenties and appeared to be in excellent physical shape. He had a moderate build and well-defined muscles.
Rayne read the words on the left side of the screen: