Dark Moon Rising

Home > Other > Dark Moon Rising > Page 26
Dark Moon Rising Page 26

by Michael E. Gonzales


  Hugh then tied his second length of cable to the near end of the cylinder, then wrapped the other end several times around a support structure in the hall to prevent the container from plummeting. He had Mary hold this end of the cable. Larry and Balaji lifted their pipes against the can and pushed, lifting the end of the can.

  There came a sudden jerk as the cable holding the weight of the can slipped. It was apparent the cable was not going to hold. Should The Nine’s cylinder fall, the resulting impact could be devastating, and Hugh knew this would mean the slow death of everyone. There would be nothing he could do to save Mary.

  "Larry!" Hugh called and Larry ran over to where Hugh handed him his portion of the cable. Hugh rushed to the end of the can, and grabbed it firmly. Hugh then lifted the end of the can, taking the weight off the cable.

  Larry and Mary watched Hugh's tremendous display of strength. Hugh showed no sign of straining; he did not grimace, his face did not redden. Indeed it appeared that Hugh accepted the entire weight of the cylinder with no apparent discomfort or additional effort.

  Then, with a Herculean effort, Hugh walked the can down the steps, slowly.

  At the bottom, Hugh pivoted the canister and sat it gently down, then he glanced up the shaft at Larry, Balaji, and Mary who stood with stunned looks on their faces. A heartbeat passed, and then Hugh exhaled and leaned against the wall, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

  "Well," he spoke at last, "are you going to help me straighten this thing out or not?"

  "I'm not sure you need our help," Larry retorted.

  Mary began leaping down the steps. "Hugh, that was amazing! How did you—"

  "Physical training every morning and regular trips to the gym."

  Larry trotted down next without saying another word. He stopped next to Mary and Hugh and reached out to feel Hugh's left bicep. He then looked Hugh in the eye and asked, "Didn't you say that can weighs over a hundred and eighty kilos?"

  "One hundred eighty one point two," Hugh responded.

  Larry's eyes narrowed. "How did you manage that? And don't tell me it's 'cause you work out."

  "Look," Hugh stood up away from the wall, "if that thing is damaged, we're all stuck here, and with the power off, it's going to become too cold to survive in here in just a few hours. I'm not about to see everyone dead because the damn rope slipped."

  Balaji's gaze shot between Mary, who was obviously confused, and Hugh who stood solid and determined.

  "Okay, my friends," Balaji announced, slapping his hands together, "let us proceed shall we?"

  With the last major obstacle behind them, the rest of the journey was nothing but time consuming. Their return found Bob sitting at a table eating some of the food they had dispensed for his consumption before their departure.

  For illumination, there was a chemical light stick on the table, and a couple that had already gone out. Hugh walked up, picked up one of the dead ones, glanced at Bob, and commented, "Handy."

  They rested a while then began moving the cylinder to the spacecraft, now with the additional assistance of Bob. Once they rolled the cylinder outside, they noticed that one of The Nine's last acts was to extend the ramp from Zellat 43 outward several additional meters, making their ascent that much less difficult.

  Being outside the facility, and in the cavern in the dark, was a very strange sensation. They knew where and how big the ship was, but their weakening lights would not illuminate much more than a few meters around them, and until they actually laid eyes on the ship, they felt lost. It was Hugh who led them directly to the spacecraft.

  Inside the ship, they found making the constant turns of the curved corridor a problem, but eventually they got the can into the 'geode' room where the cradle they had made from chairs awaited. Together, they managed to lift one end and place it on the first set of chairs, then push it forward and into place. Hugh, again, was doing most of the work.

  Once in place, Hugh secured it snugly with the cables.

  Hugh then moved to the end closest to the geode sphere, where he retrieved the adapter and the unattached cable end he had left during their last visit. The adapter fit perfectly into the top of the pyramid-shaped connector at that end of the cylinder. He removed the tourniquet from the end of the cable, squeezing it a little until the thick red liquid became visible. Then, he inserted it into the adapter. Finished, he stood up and turned to look at everyone. Nothing was happening.

  "Sort of anticlimactic," Bob said.

  Hugh turned and dropped to his knees, peering into the case on his left. He double-checked his connections between The Nine and Zellat 43. "I don't understand it. I did everything they told me, exactly."

  Mary walked up behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Of course you did, darling."

  "Look!" Larry shouted. He directed his light to one of the twelve cases, and then he turned his lamp off. The entire side of the case facing into the circle was glowing with a pale green color. They moved around the outside of the circle and noticed that all the cases were glowing. The glow slowly became brighter until their light was illuminating the entire room. The walls lit up, covered in the same kinds of glowing instrumentality they had seen on the control panel in the brain room. Now, the glowing panels began to pulsate, but without synchronization.

  Hugh led everyone into a corner of the room and all watched as, one by one, the pulses became one. Then light traveled up the cluster of cables that led from each case to the sphere, and the geode began to glow, pulsating to the same rhythm.

  The stepped pyramid on the cylinder now took on a bright red color, very much brighter than the green coming from the cases. The red light followed the cable Hugh had attached into the case. From the case, the light flowed up the cable bundle to the sphere where the light developed inside the sphere similar to the shimmering, misty light of an aurora. It quickly encompassed the geode, creating a sphere within a sphere.

  Startlingly, the ship's lights burst on, blinding everyone momentarily before resuming their normal soft glow.

  A general shout of joy erupted from the five. They slapped one another on the back, shaking hands and hugging.

  As the revelry died down, Hugh turned to Bob. "We have one last chore. You and I will go see if we can find the box with the nanobots in it. There's no sense waiting, we all want to go home, so let's go right now."

  "Okay, Hugh," Bob said without hesitation. “I’ve been thinking real hard on it. I believe I know where that room is."

  "How long do you think it will take us?"

  "Forty-five minutes, an hour."

  "Good. We'll take the best lamps. The rest of you, go on to the theater room and strap in. When Bob and I return, we're going home."

  "Wait," Mary stopped him. "Forget it, Hugh. We don't need it." She turned to Balaji, "Explain to Hugh that we don't need the damned nanobots in order to repeat our work."

  Hugh stopped Balaji before he could speak. "Bal-ah-gee, didn't you tell me it would be more difficult without the bots?"

  "Yes, but Mary is correct—"

  "And does not a higher degree of difficulty increase the probability of error?"

  There was silence.

  "I thought so. Another hour, then we're gone. Ready, Bob?"

  ****

  Exiting Zellat 43, Hugh and Bob were again engulfed by darkness. Each carried a lamp, but only Hugh's was on. They re-entered the facility through the front door, passed through the Hotel Insularum and out into the wide hallway beyond the door. From here, they turned to the right, entering that passage as yet unexplored. After a few dozen meters, they came to a three-way fork.

  "Which way, Bob?"

  "Left."

  Another few meters and the passageway opened into a low, wide corridor. They followed this dark path for about ten minutes, and then walked into an intersection.

  "Right," Bob directed, then turned on his lamp and took the lead.

  "So you fought Whitmore and beat him, uh?" Hugh asked.

  "Y
eah, I got lucky."

  "Because you weren't as sick and weak as he thought you were. You fooled him."

  "Yes, Hugh, I did. I can play-act when my life depends on it, you know."

  "I see that," Hugh said.

  Several more minutes passed as the two made their way through the darkened tunnel.

  "Are we close?" Hugh asked.

  "Yes, we are. Perhaps you should take the lead now."

  Hugh hesitated.

  "Just to play it safe," Bob urged.

  "You said Whitmore was dead."

  "And so I believe him to be—but Hugh, I've never strangled anyone before."

  Hugh nodded and stepped forward.

  "That's the door over there." Bob pointed to an open hatchway.

  Removing the alien weapon from over his shoulder, Hugh advanced forward toward the unusually heavy door with the weapon in his right hand and his torch in his left.

  Hugh entered the room; it was some sort of storeroom. There were large containers, heavy in appearance, banded with strong metal straps. Each had an odd symbol on it; seven yellow concentric circles around a red ball, the yellow circles each had a number of yellow dots on them. It took Hugh a moment to solve the equation the alien writing represented — it read 92/92/146. The room had a stale chemical odor to it—and the sickly sweet smell of death.

  Hugh had only taken a few steps inside when he stepped on an object that crunched like broken glass under his foot. Looking down he saw he had stepped on a used and discarded chemical light stick. There were several all around him.

  "What's the matter?" Bob asked. "Keep going!"

  Hugh looked back at Bob; he was wide eyed and seemed anxious.

  On the opposite wall, another heavy hatchway stood open. Beyond was a very large room that appeared to be a loading dock, and again, there were dozens more of the odd, banded containers with the same symbols on them. The platform Hugh stood on was three meters above the floor of the dock. The wall to his far right possessed several large doors, presumably designed to admit some vehicle. All were closed, and looked as if they were made to retract upward.

  The smell was stronger in here. Hugh's light scanned about in the darkness, there was a table with a number of saws and knives on it. A chair was pulled near the table, and in the chair, a body was tied.

  Hugh descended from the elevated platform by the alien ladder to his right. Once on the floor below, he rushed to examine the body. It was indeed Dr. Whitmore; tortured hideously and finally shot in the face, at close range.

  "He had it coming to him," Bob said from the platform.

  Hugh whipped around.

  "Ah, ah, ah—put the gun down, Hugh." Bob had Joe's pistol pointing at him. Hugh laid his weapon on the floor. "Poor Stanley, I tolerated his crap for years, but it got me into several highly classified installations back home." Bob descended from the platform as he spoke, never taking the gun off Hugh. "Then, just when my brothers needed me most, I found myself in exactly the right place. You don't think that was an accident, do you?"

  "You're the agent of the Sword and Stars," Hugh said.

  "The sword is a scimitar, and I am oh, so much more than a simple agent. I am the thirteenth martyr of the seventh set of martyrs. When I die, the servants will release the plague upon mankind, upon all Earth, and paradise will be my reward."

  "You're a madman."

  "Mad? Perhaps. There is strength in madness. But I'm not stupid. I out-witted all of you, mister soldier, and all the stellar PhDs back there. I was worried that you, before any of the others, might see through me; but I overestimated you."

  "Not really. I knew something was wrong."

  "How?"

  "First, we heard your voice over the E-COM, but Dr. Whitmore sent texts, I found that odd. Next, the bite on your arm, it was self-inflicted, I could clearly see the gap in your teeth in the bite mark.

  "Next, your story of struggling with Dr. Whitmore, a strong, healthy, man with five-and-a-half kilos on you, I found that hard to believe.

  "And then there are the chemical light sticks, like the ones I see discarded all around in here. You only had one on you when we found you, and it was out. We didn't have any with us; all that were brought out of the dome were in Joe's back pack. You knew the lights were going to go out, so you must have come back here, while we were gone, to recover the rest before permanent night fell. Do you still have that phobia of the dark, Bob?"

  "But you failed to put it all together," Bob smirked. "And now, I have you here, alone and cut off. Go ahead, try to communicate with the aliens. You can't, can you? It's this room; you see it's shielded against radiation. I discovered it when I first tried to contact you, COMdes don't work in here. I extrapolated that your ability to contact the aliens wouldn't, either. And, of course, I recognized the atom when I saw it painted on these containers, ninety-two protons, ninety-two electrons, and one hundred forty-six neutrons—seven yellow rings. It's Uranium. The aliens were mining Uranium." Bob paused and brought himself up to his full height, then smiled at Hugh.

  “No, Bob, I had you figured,” Hugh said slowly. “I also figured you’d try something dangerous, odds were you had Smith’s gun. I let you lead me here to keep you away from the others.”

  "But I got the drop on you, so all your cleverness was for naught. I'm going to kill you Sergeant," Bob declared, "right here, right now. Once the aliens decide you're not coming back, they will take me and the others back to Earth, where I will reunite the key with my brethren. En route to Earth, I'm going to kill the others as well, one at a time. I'm going to save Mary for last, but don't worry; I'll kill her as quickly and as painlessly as possible. You, on the other hand I want to die slowly, so—"

  With that, he pulled the trigger. The bullet struck Hugh low and to the right of his navel, just above his hip. He crumpled and fell to his knees. He tried to stand, but fell on his face.

  "You should lie still, Sergeant. The more you move, the faster you'll bleed out. Goodbye...Sergeant."

  Hugh's flashlight had broken when he dropped it. Bob spotted Hugh’s alien rifle in the light of his own flashlight so he stopped to pick it up. As Bob left the room the light faded to absolute darkness. Hugh listened as Bob's footsteps faded away.

  Chapter 35

  When the others departed to collect The Nine, Bob had made a trip down the passageway to a spot where he had hidden a few things; rations, water, the box containing the nanobots, the pistol, the chemical lights, and his original map. He gathered some of the lights, the little metal box, and of course the pistol.

  He returned to the Hotel Insularum with his treasures just as the lights went out, all of them, to include the artificial sun that was also the eye in the sky. Bob managed to suppress his panic long enough to activate a chemical light and then went aboard the Zellat 43 where he hid the box. After which he sat and waited. He knew that as soon as Hugh was finished, he would want to go looking for the nanobots. This would provide Bob his opportunity to kill the irritating soldier.

  He really didn't need to kill Hugh or any of the others; he just wanted to. He knew that all their exertions to survive here were but a momentary reprieve because all the non-believers on Earth were going to die in the great transformation. Bob wanted to kill them. He wanted to savor the deaths of those who had looked down on him for so long. He wanted to relive the joy he felt as he tortured Whitmore to death.

  ****

  Hugh lay on the floor evaluating his injury. The entrance wound was small, but the exit wound was the size of his fist. The shock to his system, the transference of energy from the bullet to his body, had been extraordinary. Recovery was going to be difficult. One major cluster of fibers carrying impulses from his brain to his legs had been cut. And a major artery flowing with electrical life had been severed. He rose to his feet only with great difficulty and stumbled to where he remembered the table was located. He tried to adjust his vision but could see nothing in the total darkness. On the table, he had seen knives. He felt about until
he found one. He could feel the handle was covered with a dried flaky substance. It was Dr. Whitmore's blood. Using the knife, Hugh made the entrance wound larger, enough to give him access to the hemorrhage.

  ****

  Inside Zellat 43, all sat quietly, anticipation and concern had silenced them. Mary saw this last trip of Hugh's as unnecessary, and perhaps it was. Her worry became the worry of all. She asked the time every few minutes, and Balaji reminded her there was not a watch among them; nonetheless, the time remained of critical interest to her. She leaned over to Balaji and said, "I think it's been too long, I want to go look."

  "Please be patient, Mary."

  "Would you be patient were it Chandrakanta?"

  Balaji looked at her for a few seconds then said, "Let's go," and they started to unstrap themselves from the small chairs. It was then they heard the sound of someone running toward the theater. All eyes turned toward the door on the room's right. Bob burst in, pale and out of breath. He collapsed onto the nearest chair, and everyone rushed to him. "Oh, my God" he stammered. "It's Whitmore! He's alive—"

  "Where is Hugh?" Mary demanded.

  "Whitmore shot him. He's dead."

  Mary stumbled backward, and Balaji ran to her aid. She was in a cold sweat and trembling. "No, no."

  Balaji could think of nothing to say, so he just held her.

  With Larry's help, Bob got to his feet. "We have to leave now. He's following me, he'll kill us all!"

  "Bob, only Hugh could speak to The Nine," Balaji said.

  Bob's face became pale, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

  "Wait!" Larry almost shouted out the word. "Hugh said they could see us directly through the lenses on the cylinder as well as through the orbs. They hear us but don't understand us. He said they are very good at interpretation through the inclination, tone, and the volume of our voices and by our body language. Let's go to the cylinder and try to be understood."

 

‹ Prev