by J. N. Chaney
“You sure did,” gawked Freddie.
Dressler cautiously approached the entryway, leaning in to observe Lucia’s handiwork. “I stand corrected,” she said, turning back around and nodding to the old woman. “Excellent work.”
“I don’t need any praise, girl,” she said, walking past Dressler and into the building.
Dressler said nothing.
Abigail and Freddie followed Lucia inside, leaving only the doctor and me behind.
I stepped up next to her, temporarily switching my comm so that only she could hear me. “Best not to pay her any mind, Doc. I doubt she meant anything by it.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. She’s direct. I can appreciate that.”
“Oh?” I asked.
She nodded. “Back before I was kidnapped—” She glared at me.
I grinned.
“—I used to have a reputation for being cold with my subordinates,” she continued. “Even among my own team, who I considered some of the brightest minds in the Union—they still required coddling, whether it was simple praise or commendations for doing little more than their jobs. I always hated it, but I conformed to their needs because the team’s performance depended on it.”
“You’re talking about morale,” I said.
“Correct, and I was never very good at rallying people or motivating them. Not like you,” she said, letting the words linger for a moment before moving on. “So, when I see someone speak the way she did, however rudely, I find it infinitely more appealing than the alternative, because it’s honest, you see, and there is nothing more valuable than the truth.”
“Does that mean you…like her?” I asked.
“It means that, for now, I respect her,” said Dressler, finally stepping inside the doorway. “Which is more than I can say for most of the people in my life.”
“You mean you don’t respect me, Doc?”
“I’m switching back to the team channel now.”
* * *
The inside of the building was modestly tall, most of it an open foyer that expanded all the way to the top of the egg-shaped ceiling. The rear contained what appeared to be a series of desks, built directly into the walls. At least, that was my guess. Everything in here was so decayed, I could only guess as to what half of it had been originally.
Beyond the desks, there was another opening—this one leading to a small shaft, leading deep into the ground. I guessed this had once been an elevator, though there was no sign of the actual lift.
“How do we get down?” asked Freddie.
“There,” said Abigail, pointing to a ladder near where we were standing.
“Wait,” cautioned Dressler. She retrieved a rope from her bag and handed the other end to me.
I nodded, and tied it to the strongest piece of metal I could find.
“Go down one at a time,” I said. “We don’t know how flimsy that thing is. Freddie, you’re up first.”
Freddie looked over the edge of the shaft and swallowed, gulping so loud I felt it in my ear. “R-Right,” he said, taking the first bar and stepping down, slowly.
We watched him descend into the darkness, almost disappearing.
“How far should I go?” asked Freddie, peering down. “It looks like it never ends.”
I brought up the blue holo on my wrist, examining the coordinates. “It says we’re about forty meters above it.”
“How many floors is that?” asked Abigail.
Sigmond answered this time. “My estimates suggest thirteen floors.”
“There you go, Freddie. Just keep on going,” I said.
Another gulp. “O-Okay.”
“It looks like the ladder is holding,” said Dressler.
I nodded. “Who’s next?”
“I’ll go,” said Lucia, approaching the edge without hesitation. Before I could tell her otherwise, she’d already dropped to the floor below us, making quick time and catching up to Freddie, who seemed to be taking things slowly.
The rest of us followed. First Abigail, then Dressler, and finally myself. I had to admit, part of me worried we’d cross a weakened section of the ladder at some point, but it never happened. Instead, we found ourselves confronted with a different obstacle altogether.
“What’s the hold up?” asked Abigail, looking down over her shoulder.
“I think I found the elevator,” said Freddie. “It’s parked in front of me. I can’t go any farther.”
“What floor is that?” asked Dressler.
I wrapped a foot inside one of the bars on the ladder and activated my holo. “Looks like that’s our stop.”
“Great,” said Abigail. “Now, what do we do?”
“Is there a hatch?” asked Dressler.
“I can’t tell. It’s too dark. I’ll have to get lower,” Freddie answered.
I switched my visor display to the camera on Freddie’s suit, letting me see what he was seeing. “Get closer,” I told him.
He moved a few more steps—enough to touch the tip of the lift with his foot.
“How about now?” I asked.
He sighed. “It’s covered in dirt and water.”
“That must be from the rain,” said Dressler. “We’ll have to clear the mud off if we want to get inside.”
“You mean we’ll have to stand on it?” asked Freddie.
“No, I mean you’ll have to stand on it,” said Dressler.
“Me?” he asked.
“We can’t risk more than one person’s weight. Tie the end of the rope to your waist and don’t make too many sudden movements. Don’t worry. Every handful of mud you remove will mean less weight on the lift.”
He gulped again, but went ahead and wrapped the rope around himself, tying the very end in a knot and securing it. “Why is it always me?” he muttered.
“Enough complaining and more scooping!” I barked.
Freddie eased himself onto the elevator platform, letting his feet slide into the heavy mud. He bent down, taking a scoop in his hand and gently brought it over to the side, letting it fall through the space between the wall and the lift. He continued, one scoop at a time, steadily moving back and forth.
“You only have to find the hatch, so try looking around in different spots,” said Dressler.
“At this rate, we’ll be here all day,” groaned Lucia.
Freddie continued, handful after handful, but seemed to barely make any progress. The mud was thick and wet with no sun to dry it like the dirt on the surface. Even as he picked it up, clumps would fall between his fingers, slowing progress even more.
“Should one of us help?” asked Abigail, after about five minutes of minimal progress.
“I could use a shovel,” said Freddie, half-joking.
“Maybe once he’s moved more of the mud,” cautioned Dressler. “Give it more time. Frederick, try the other side. See if you can find the hatch over there.”
He nodded, stepping to the opposite end of the shaft, farthest from the ladder. “Here?” he asked.
“That’s right,” she said. “Dig right there.”
He bent down and scooped another handful, getting ready to toss it. “Hold on a second,” he said, suddenly fidgeting where he stood. He tugged at his foot, which wasn’t coming free of the mud.
“Are you stuck?” I asked.
He groaned, trying to move his foot. “I’m fine,” he said. “I—”
His foot yanked free with a quick jerk, causing him to lose his balance and fall backwards. He landed on his ass, hitting the mud with a loud splat.
We each stared in silence, watching all of this unfold through his eyes. “Are you okay?” asked Abigail, after a moment.
I could hear him breathing rapidly, clearly unsettled. “Freddie?” I asked, trying to prompt him into responding.
“I-I’m good,” he finally said. “It caught me off guard.”
“Take your time,” said Dressler.
He tried to get up, but the suction of the mud kept him in place, so he rolled to his side a
nd got to his knees. “Just a second,” he muttered, slowly standing, his knees and legs shaking as he brought himself up.
A loud rattling sound echoed through the shaft, giving each of us pause. It was followed by a deep, but loud groaning sound, like metal expanding or bending.
“What was that?” asked Abigail.
“Don’t move, Frederick,” said Dressler. “Stay absolutely still.”
Freddie’s breathing quickened as his eyes, along with his visor, darted around the surface of the lift.
“I said stay still!” barked Dressler. “That includes your head.”
He stopped moving and held his breath.
We waited for another sound, but nothing came. After a few more seconds, Dressler let out a sigh. “Now, you can continue, but be very careful. There’s no telling how unstable the mechanism—”
Before she could finish, a loud snap rang through the shaft as the wiring tore from the lift right beside Freddie. The lift shifted beneath his feet, causing him to lose his footing again as he fell into the mud a second time.
That was the final straw. The force of Freddie’s fall nudged the lift, offsetting its hold in the shaft and sending it plummeting.
Freddie began to fall with it, screaming as he tried to grab hold of the air around him, reaching for a ledge that wasn’t there.
Before he could drop more than a few meters, the rope caught him, tugging his waist. He yelped in pain as it happened, no doubt from the strain of pressure it gave.
He swung back and hit the ladder, groaning in pain.
“Freddie!” I yelled, still watching his feed. “Holy shit, are you alright?”
His breathing had slowed, growing shallow. Still, he moved his hands along his chest and sides, finding the rope around his midsection at last, and held onto it. “That…wasn’t good,” he managed to say.
“Godsdammit, that was too close,” I said.
“I...” Freddie’s voice drifted, almost to a whisper. “I think I’m…passing out now…”
His hands dropped from the rope to his sides, letting out a long sigh.
“Siggy!” I barked. “Check his vitals! Hurry!”
There was a short, three second pause.
“I detect no serious injuries,” informed Sigmond, much to our collective relief. “Although, I suggest securing Mr. Tabernacle as soon as possible. The strain from the rope could prove harmful.”
“I’m on it!” said Abigail, shimmying down the ladder. She grabbed hold of Freddie’s legs and pulled him close, securing her arm around his torso. “I’ve got him!”
“Can you get to the next floor from there without falling?” I asked, switching my visor to show her feed.
She looked down. The next elevator door was right there. “I can make it,” she said, slowly moving her foot to the next step.
The rope tightened as she moved, tugging Freddie as it tightened in place. “Stop!” commanded Dressler. “You need to untie him before you keep going.”
Abigail nodded, retrieving a knife from her side.
“Hold it,” said Lucia, who was only a few meters above her. “I’ll cut it from here. Focus on keeping your hands around the boy.”
“Okay,” said Abby, putting the knife back and securing Freddie with both hands.
Lucia took out a small knife and gently, but swiftly, cut the rope beneath her feet. The sudden slack caused Abigail to shift as the rest of Freddie’s weight hit her. She wheezed, but soon regained her posture.
I didn’t have to ask if she was alright. I could see it all through her feed.
She made her way down the steps, slowly and securely. It took several minutes, but she finally managed to get there, standing right beside the opening to the next floor.
“That ledge is a little far,” said Abigail. She eased her foot over to it, keeping the other one on the ladder, but it was no good. Her boot kept slipping off. The weight of holding Freddie was too much to make any quick moves.
“How are you going to get him inside?” asked Dressler. “Maybe we should wait for him to wake up.”
“Got anymore of that rope?” I asked.
“I’m afraid not,” said Dressler.
Abigail cleared her throat and quickened her breathing, like she was pumping herself up for something.
“Abby, you okay down there?” I asked.
She repositioned Freddie, groaning as she shifted his weight, and then tossed him in one solid motion into the doorway, nearly letting go of the ladder in the process.
He landed with a loud thud, rolling half a meter into the wall.
Abby gasped from the strain, clearly relieved, and then went ahead and reached for the opening, securing her foot and moving easily into the hallway.
“Well, that works, I suppose,” replied Dressler.
“It’s clear in here,” said Abigail from inside the corridor. “Are the rest of you coming or what?”
I smirked. “We’re right behind you.”
Nine
Freddie finally came to his senses, groaning as he opened his eyes. “Wh-What happened?”
Lucia and I stood over him. “You nearly took a dive,” I told him. “Not to worry, though. Abby got you down.”
“Poor boy,” said Lucia, shaking her head.
I snickered, smacking Freddie’s shoulder. “Think you can get up and walk?”
He nodded, taking my hand and pulling himself up. “Thank you, Captain.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said.
He glanced to his left to see Abigail and Dressler, several meters inside the corridor, looking around with their lights. “Then, thank you, Abigail.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she answered.
“We should keep going,” said Dressler, shining her light into one of the adjacent rooms.
I flashed a grin at Freddie. “You heard the lady. Time’s a-wasting.”
The end of the hall brought us to a fork, forcing me to pull up my holo display and check our location. We were close. Maybe two dozen meters.
“Which way?” asked Abigail.
I pointed to the left. “There, then right, then straight ahead.”
Despite the age of this facility, a few of the lights were still operational, giving me the impression that this city still had a working Tritium Core somewhere. At the very least, some kind of power supply with a little juice still in it. That was good, since the terminal would need to be operational in order for us to make use of it.
As we shuffled through the last corridor, I spotted a light near the end against the far wall. It was a pad, fully operational and awaiting input near the door. “Siggy, do you have the access codes for this?” I asked.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” he said. “However, if you could be so kind as to connect the drive in Dr. Dressler’s satchel, I could unlock the door myself.”
I looked at Dressler, who gave me a quick nod as she stepped up and opened her pack. Without a word, she retrieved the drive and popped the hatch near the pad, disconnecting something and unplugging a wire, all before inserting the drive into the wall. She waited a second, then took a step back. “Done.”
“Efficient as always,” I said.
“Accessing network,” informed Sigmond. “Retrieving security codes…3-2-1-0-8-5-9…”
The door slid halfway open, jamming at the last second.
“Access granted,” finished Sigmond.
“Mostly,” I commented.
“Apologies, sir,” replied the Cognitive.
“You did fine, Siggy. Here, Lucia, help me with this,” I said, taking the door with both hands and leaning back, propping a foot against the nearby door frame.
Lucia bent beneath the place I was holding, sliding through to the other side. She took another part of the door and mirrored my position so that we were on both sides.
“One…two…three,” I muttered. “And pull!”
We heaved together in a steady jerk, quickly yanking the door open until it slammed inside the wall.
I checked the holo, which illuminated our group in a soft, blue glow. The display showed we were almost there. “About ten meters,” I said, turning it off.
Lucia’s light dimmed on the other side of the door. She seemed to be covering it with her hand. Before I could ask why, she stepped through the door, quickly touching my shoulder.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“Can’t you hear it?”
I looked around, curiously. “Hear what?”
“Turn your sound on and listen,” she said.
I reduced my noise-cancellation to nearly zero. Doing so allowed me to hear everything outside the suit, but it also meant my voice would carry beyond my helmet. So, I kept quiet and listened, focusing on whatever sounds I could pick out of the air.
There wasn’t much—mostly the ambiance of the hall: echoing water drops, a soft howl from a trapped breeze, Dressler’s breathing, and Freddie shifting his weight, crunching the dirt beneath his foot.
Eventually, I heard some tapping, followed by a chirping sound, although it was light and hard to make out.
I raised my noise canceling to full and switched back to the comm. “What was that?” I finally asked.
“An animal,” said Lucia, gripping her staff with both hands. “Birds, if I had to guess.”
“You think it’s the same kind we saw before?”
“The sound matches,” she answered.
I took out one of my pistols. “Then we ought to take this slow.”
“Did you say birds?” asked Freddie.
“Get your weapons ready. We might be walking right into a nest.”
“But the elevator was blocking this entire floor,” said Abigail. “How could they nest here?”
“There’s probably another entrance somewhere,” revealed Dressler.
Freddie scoffed. “You mean we could have avoided that mud-covered deathtrap back there?”
“No sense dwelling, Fred,” I said, cocking the hammer on my pistol. “We need to look to the future.”
* * *
We found the nest shortly after opening the door, deep inside one of the nearby rooms. I peered through the archway, counting at least twenty-three winged abominations as they slept. On the other side, I could see another partially illuminated opening. The light didn’t look artificial, though, but much more natural, suggesting there was a tunnel there, leading to the surface.