“Meaning, if it still had air, I could get out of this suit?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, then,” and Amber giggled, “I’m right behind you.”
He took a deep breath and prepared to put a fair-sized hole in the tunnel section. This tube was not pressurized, but he couldn’t guarantee that the roof might not cave in on him. He felt Amber take a breath also. Then she made a noise of surprise.
“Listen.”
He did, but the mikes weren’t transmitting anything. “I don’t hear it.”
“That’s it! When did the shock waves stop?”
“I don’t know.” Too embarrassed to admit he’d heard very little while Bogie rode herd over him, he said nothing else. He listened a moment, then added, “I think the bombings are over. They’ll be in as soon as possible to dig us out and to assess the damage.”
Some of which you’re responsible for, Amber thought but did not say. Cut off as they had been, there’d been no other way. She squeezed her eyes shut as he said, “Hold on, we’re going through.”
It wasn’t just the laser blast or the gauntlets tearing aside chunks of red-hot rock, or the swaggering gait of the suit in a power walk—it was the wash of sheer rage from Bogie that staggered her mind, forcing her chin up and eyes open despite her best intentions as Jack took them through. She saw the opalescent, shimmering membrane emerge across a pocket in rock, a web reflecting the suit’s color back at her. They came to a halt directly in front of it.
“We’re going through that?” Her chin jabbed Jack in the back of his shoulder and he complained, then said, “Carefully.”
“We’ll rip it.”
“Might. The membranes are used mainly with waldos. They’ll allow a very slow penetration and self-seal around it.”
“Meaning they will seal behind us after we’ve gone through?”
“In theory. If I do it right. Be glad we haven’t hit a vein of norcite yet. It’s got an extremely high melting point.”
Amber held tight, feeling Jack’s heat on her flesh, even through her suit and overrobe, felt him burn like a fire banked deep inside.
He muttered, “Don’t move now. I don’t want the holo to catch something you’ve done and step it up, all right?”
Her shoulders and the small of her back ached from clinging to him. Various gadgets at the back of the suit dug into her skin, making pock marks and bruises she was sure would never go away. If they survived this, she reminded herself. She whispered, “I’m ready.”
With a grace that denied gravity and minute movements that contradicted the sheer power of the battle armor, Jack extended his hand and began to penetrate the membrane as though he were a delicate instrument instead of a walking war machine.
The web wavered. It stretched to its utmost limit, then, gently, began to swallow the gauntlet. When it had allowed the suit penetration nearly to the shoulder, Jack rocked back slightly to shift his balance and stepped forward. She felt the strain as Bogie fought Jack’s control and she took her wonder away from what they were doing to focus on the alien’s emotions. She took the brunt of it full force. Her ears rang as his psychic shouts roared through her. Mirroring Jack’s movement through the membrane, she delicately pushed through Bogie’s rage until she absorbed it… for the moment. The cords on her neck strained. She felt the parallel tension in Jack as he stepped forward and, finally, was able to put his foot down.
Then, like sliding into a pond of wild water, something Amber had never seen on Malthen, but had seen videos of, they were through.
Jack sucked in his breath sharply as he surveyed the rear cameras and then exhaled. “We’ve done it.”
“Which means?”
“There should be air on the other side of this bulkhead.” He tapped the controls. It opened, letting them into the tunnel. The auxiliary light system was on here, lending the area a half-glow.
It was empty. Jack sealed the bulkhead behind them and surveyed the section. It was older and if he remembered correctly, beyond the far bulkhead was another section leading to one of the supply elevator shafts. He lumbered to a stop and checked the suit gauges.
At this rate, with the two of them sharing the suit, the air would last perhaps another twenty-six hours. Not bad, except that the damage to the mine had been such that it would probably be at least that long before they could be pulled out. Weighing possibilities, he unscrewed the helmet.
Amber gulped, then said, “Bleah.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The air in here is better than the air out there. With the possible exception of how much more you’re going to sweat.”
He bent a little and began to open a seam. Bogie had gone, suddenly, completely, and left Jack with a hollowed out feeling, as though he’d given all he could give and had nothing left. He took a deep breath as the armor opened up. Amber clung to him. He swung his shoulders. “Come on, get out.”
“Is it safe?”
“For now.”
She slid to the ground. Her legs buckled under her and she collapsed in a heap. Jack, half-peeled out of the suit, bent down. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, fine. Never been better. Now I know what a sandwich in shrink wrap feels like.” Amber sucked in her cheeks in parody and then laughed. She pushed her tangled mane of honey blonde hair back from a face that, although too thin, hit him like a load of norcite ore. He straightened back up abruptly.
Just how long had he been chilled down? How much time had she had to grow up?
“What’ll we do now?”
“Wait.” Somewhat awkwardly, he made the suit sit down. She looked at him.
“Aren’t you getting out?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
Her large eyes blinked thoughtfully and then she asked, “Why?”
“This is old tunnel. It could spring a leak just from the strain. Besides, I don’t know if they’re done with up there or not. I can get you back in if something happens, but not both of us. So I’ll just be uncomfortable a little while longer, okay?”
“Okay.” Amber swallowed, her face a little paler than it had been. She slipped a hand over his gauntlet, then said, “D’you think I could hold your real hand for a while?”
“Sure.” He pulled his arm out and laced her fingers into his. She was a little cool. “It’s not over yet.”
“I guess not,” she murmured, leaning against him. Quite suddenly, she fell asleep.
Jack felt the snap of Bogie as soon as her eyes shut and he knew why she was so exhausted. But Bogie seemed drained, too. *Fight more, boss?*
“No. Not for a while.”
*Okay. Rest is good, too.*
He felt the alien presence withdraw.
“Rest is very good,” Jack echoed. He leaned back against the tunnel and closed his eyes wearily. They had a wait ahead of them, anyhow. He felt a moment’s keen disappointment that no one else had made it this far. After a rest, he’d adjust the com frequency and see what he could pick up. He wouldn’t sleep long, he never did. Just in case he couldn’t wake up one of these times.
Jack woke abruptly, with a strangling feeling, and gulped for air, his head throbbing with a dull but massive headache. He had dreamed of a massive saurian being, reaching out to grasp him and pull him up, up from the vast deepness of a stagnant lake. He looked out, unseeing, forcing his eyes wide but not really registering where he was. Amber lay against him like a dead weight.
He tried to swallow, his tongue thick and swollen. What was wrong here? What had he been dreaming? He took his hand away from hers and scrubbed at his face. God, but he couldn’t think. His head pounded and pounded—
Abruptly, Jack reached for his helmet and pulled it on. He scanned his readouts. Shit! The air was going bad rapidly. This unit might be sealed, but the recyclers had shut down. He had to suit up and fast.
“Amber! Wake up! C’mon. There’s no time to waste.”
“Mugh,” she said and her head lolled around loosely on her should
ers. He shook her.
“Wake up!”
Bleared eyes came open. “Jack?” and then she gave a sweet smile. “I love you, Jack.”
“Right. Now wake up!” He pulled her into the suit. She flopped against him and he sealed the armor, even though she wasn’t even near being in position.
He gasped at the sudden intimacy of their bodies, caught his breath and re-seated the helmet, then set the air controls. Amber happily sighed and wrapped her arms around his bare waist, snuggling her nose against his chest. Jack swallowed tightly and stood straight up, as if by holding his breath he could pull away from the disturbing closeness of her body. The suit’s air filtered in and he could feel the loosening of the steel band of a headache that had been threatening to take the top of his head off.
Amber revived slowly. She looked up, wedged in just under his chin. “Jack? What are you doing?”
“The air was bad out there.”
“But I’m not in position. We can’t possibly do anything like this.” Then, mischievously, she added, “Well, we can do one thing I can think of like this, but this is hardly the time or place.” Her embrace tightened intimately.
Jack could have sworn the quarters were too tight for it, but he jumped.
Amber laughed. “Why, Jack! You’re shy!”
“Amber!”
“All right, all right.” Laboriously, she began to sidle around him. “Can’t you open up for just a second? I don’t think I can get up on your back… no, wait a minute…” Her hands grabbed the back of his shoulders and tightened. “Let me see… there!”
Jack let out a low, quavering sigh of relief.
She tickled his ear before wrapping her arms loosely around his neck.
The air revived her to the point where she suddenly realized the seriousness of their situation. “How long were we under?”
“Almost twelve hours, believe it or not. We’re lucky I woke up.” Luck? He’d dreamed… no. No, the dream hadn’t woke him. Or had it?
“What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to have to get out and get out now. This section’s no good. I won’t hurt anything by blasting through the seals.”
“Jack. You can’t blast your way to the surface.”
He paused before the bulkhead, his gauntlet cocked, but his fingertips not at the control patch yet. “Why not?”
“We can’t—you can’t possibly—this must be solid rock.”
He smiled, though she couldn’t see it. “That’s the beauty of it, Amber. This part of the mining operation isn’t solid rock. It’s pocketed all the way through. That’s why we had to put in tube sections for the tunnels. Only way to keep the tunnels pressurized and airtight. And if we’re lucky… we’ll hit a lot of pockets on the way up.”
“If you know which way is up. Suppose we get stuck trying to tunnel our way through and out the other side. How much of a charge do you carry?”
She’d made a point. The armor didn’t carry enough of a charge to blast continuously through. Or enough air. And there were other considerations as well. He could ignore the hunger pains beginning to cramp his lean stomach, but the nagging fullness of his bladder was another matter. And, there was Amber. He didn’t know how long he could continue to carry her about the way he’d been doing. But he could blast through to the elevator shaft. The suit had enough hover power, maybe, to lift both of them up and out.
Unless he’d miscalculated on how many levels down they’d gone.
Jack mentally shook off that thought. They were dead, anyway, if they stayed down here.
“Don’t say that,” Amber whispered huskily at his ear. “I don’t want to hear it.”
He hadn’t realized he’d voiced his last thought aloud. He swiveled his head and squeezed one of her hands between his chin and his shoulder momentarily, a gesture meant to comfort her. “That’ll never happen.”
“Good. I was hoping you weren’t giving up. What about the com lines?”
Again, he couldn’t pull his arm back and out of a sleeve to adjust the frequency scanner, they were wedged in so tightly. He felt Amber wiggle.
“Is that it?”
A hand pointed just under his chin.
“Yes.”
She moved with sudden intensity and reached forward. Breathlessly, Amber said, “I can just reach it. What’ll I do?”
“Touch the blue square. That’s all. And it’ll home in by itself once it scans a working frequency.” Jack tried to ignore the urgent pressing of young, ripe feminine physique against his bare back as she stretched.
“Got it!”
They both sighed as Amber settled back into place. Jack listened to dead air for a few moments, then re-aimed his gauntlet and fired at the bulkhead in front of him.
The tunnel, as they climbed through and into it, had been cracked like an egg—and around it sat, like shards of its shell, the crew, gray suits settled in apathetic lumps about the area.
“Jack!”
“I see them.”
“Are they—dead?”
He didn’t know. He walked over to the nearest heap and nudged it. The man fell over rigidly and he could see through the face plate that the miner was dead, suffocated. “Damn it.”
“Is he—”
“Yes. But he wouldn’t be if they’d kept the suits fully charged.” Anger boiled in him at the uselessness of it. Bogie awoke suddenly.
*Kill them for you, boss.*
“We’ve got to get back, first.” He straightened and went to the next suit. Perez’ name was stenciled across the shoulder. Jack swallowed tightly and reached out to the suit.
The man sat up and grabbed his hand at the touch just as the armor’s com lines tingled into life.
“Man! Where’d you come from?”
Jack pointed to the blasted bulkhead and Perez let out a slow whistle. The digger began excitedly to rouse his comrades. One or two had suffocated in their sleep, like the first, but the rest got shakily to their feet. Amber let out a squeal of joy as she recognized St. Colin’s well-made, well-aged face looking up at them.
“Well, well,” he said. “An angel of mercy come to deliver us.”
Stash walked from the far end of the tunnel. “Don’t be too sure, mate, ‘e seems to be in the same mess we are.”
Jack eyed the New Aussie. “Don’t be too sure. Where’s Boggs?”
A grunt, breaking up over the com, and then, “Don’t know. He might not have made it out.”
Perez added, “We got separated, man. Blasts going off everywhere. The Bugs have done us in this time.”
“What have you been doing?”
“Downtime.” Colin spoke up, suddenly. “We’re all low on air, as you can see. Amber, I can hear you, but I can’t see you.”
“I’m in here with Jack.”
A low chuckle. “I see. That must be close quarters.”
Jack grinned in spite of himself. “You don’t know the half of it. Stash—what’s on the other side of the bulkhead?”
“Th’ elevator, o’ course. But it’s filled with a rock slide.”
“Filled?”
The deepsuit containing Stash shrugged. “We took a look as soon as the dust settled. It came in on our heels.”
“How far up?”
Stash eyed him sardonically. “Thinking of digging out?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Never make it. You’d have to blast your way through at least one, maybe two levels. And then, the machinery’s down. You have an open shaft above you. How are you going to get through that?”
“If you’d finished Basic, you’d know.” Jack turned from Stash back to Perez. “Start emergency broadcast. We’ve been down here long enough that somebody’s started a rescue search. You’re too low on air not to risk the power drain.”
Protests filtered in over the line. Perez put his gloves up. “C’mon, diggers—you all know it’s true. We might as well yell as long as we’ve got breath left.”
Stash made an ironic
bow as Jack approached the ineffectively sealed bulkhead.
Jack took a stance, aimed and blew the end of the tunnel away. When the air cleared, he stood up to his knees in fine, gray dust.
Over the com, someone murmured, “Shee-it.”
But ahead of Jack was a tumble of rock and it reached up the shaft as far as he could see—which wasn’t far. His gaze flicked back to his gauges. Not red field—yet. But as the solar panels weren’t even getting a rudimentary charge, he knew after all the blasting he’d done to get this far, he was running low. And the suit was using energy twice as fast to maintain the two of them.
Amber squeezed his neck, sensing his hesitation. “Go for it.”
He waded into the silt as far as he could go, rear cameras reflecting the crew at his back moving farther away, out of range of the slide. “Hold on,” he said to Amber. “We could get buried in this stuff.”
“Buried one way or another,” she answered lightly. “What’s the difference?”
“Right. Let Bogie go.”
“What? Oh.” And she said nothing further that could be mistaken over the com lines.
But his mind flooded with the strength and the fury of the berserker. Be damned if Jack was going to be buried quietly at the bottom of an elevator shaft! Be damned if life was going to end here, quietly, whimpering!
He blasted away and hit the power vault as rock powdered away before and around him. He hit his gauntlets full on, for rock splinters and shrapnel could do as much damage as a projectile weapon. Now he dusted it down before him, in a running river of fine motes that bathed the suit in an angry red-orange glow as they cooled. Over the com lines, he could hear the shouts and scrambles of diggers working to channel the fall away from them as he rose in the shaft, blasting his way out.
The suit strained. He could hear the whine and groan as the hover protested the overload. He rose, not smoothly, but in a herky-jerky movement that rattled the whole armor. Jack looked up and saw the ceiling, a jumble of boulders, abruptly give way and he shot out a spray of fire that turned it into a molten waterfall.
“Holy shit,” someone cried below him as he cleared the first level.
Ironically, St. Colin said, “I’ll second that, young man.”
Lasertown Blues Page 14