by D L Frizzell
When I got there, I found Traore and two other men in the kitchen. They were leaning over Brady, whom they’d rested on the kitchen table. He wasn’t bleeding that I could tell, but smoke drifted up where it looked like somebody slashed deep into his chest with a sword and then dragged a searing poker through the wound. The men drew their pistols when they saw me.
“He’s a friendly!” Traore barked, staring them down until they put their pistols away.
“Jarnum shot Brady,” Traore growled. “He ambushed us with that laser pistol Dima left at the node, and then kept firing it until it melted.”
I looked closer at Brady. Judging by his grimace and the bulging veins on his forehead, I knew he was conscious. He just didn’t move because it was too painful.
“Where’s Jarnum now?” I asked.
“Still in the cave where we came in,” Traore replied. “A few guards have him pinned down.”
“Why not go after him if the laser pistol doesn’t work anymore?”
“There were two pistols at the mountain entrance, remember?” Traore said. “The second one won’t start to degrade until he pulls it out of its case.”
“We have a few guys keeping an eye on the tunnel,” one of the men said. “As soon as we get a few more guns ready, we’ll storm the entrance and put him down.”
“There’s a fire at the other end of the cavern,” I said. “How’d that get started?”
“Jarnum must have hit something flammable with the laser,” one of the men replied. “He started firing like a madman after Dima noticed him in the tunnel. He just kept shooting all over the place, even after people stopped climbing up after him.”
“The laser began stuttering after a few minutes,” the other man said. “When we told your friend the magnetism was wrecking its circuits, he ran up to help Dima. That’s when the laser caught him across the chest. Good thing it was down to less than half strength by that time.”
“Dima got hit at full power,” the first man said shakily. “Burned right through him.”
Brady coughed, then went rigid, grunting as he took in several short, agonizing breaths. Staring at me, he didn’t try to speak, but his eyes said it all. Find Jarnum.
“We’ll get him,” I reassured Brady. I wanted to put my hand on his shoulder but figured it would only cause more pain. Turning to Traore, I asked, “Where’s Ofsalle?”
“He was out getting vegetables from the market when the trouble started,” Traore replied. “Haven’t seen him. If he’s a real doctor, we could use his help right now.”
“Let’s find him,” I said. I went back to the storage closet where we’d put our weapons for safe-keeping. Traore told Brady to hang on, then followed me. A minute later I had my pistol and falcata on. Traore had a pistol on each hip and the team’s other pistol belts draped over his shoulder.
“Leave Redland’s belt here,” I instructed him.
“Oh?” Traore said, wide-eyed.
“Long story,” I said.
He nodded, dropped Redland’s gear unceremoniously on the floor, and followed me out of Mayford’s home.
The fire at the excavation site was still out of control. I noticed a growing cloud of smoke, but it wasn’t rising toward the cave ceiling. Instead, it swirled toward the tunnel where Hathan-Fen and the others were waiting. Traore saw where I was looking.
“They must have some kind of ventilation system in the tunnel,” he remarked. He waved a signal to the guards on the street that we were making our way toward Jarnum’s position. They gave us a thumbs-up and refocused their rifles on the tunnel.
We were fortunate that cover was easy to find along the edge of town. We crouched behind stalagmites until we were within twenty meters of the cave tunnel.
Scorch marks burned the cave walls from the tunnel, some of them hit the cave walls only a short distance from the tunnel, while others reached all the way to the ceiling at the opposite end of the cave. They burned straight lines into anything they hit, as they had with Brady. Except, I didn’t see Jarnum. As I looked at the laser traces one more time, I came to the conclusion that a convict as clever as Jarnum wouldn’t fire so wildly. I stood up.
“Duck, stupid!” Traore barked at me.
I ignored him. Instead, I rushed at full speed toward the tunnel entrance with my pistol ready. When I got to the spot where Dima had crossed the torches to signal our safe passage earlier, I found exactly what I was expecting. I waved at Traore to join me.
“What the hell?” Traore said, his eyes locked on the smoking laser pistol at our feet. The pistol had been wired to a tripod, set to go off on a mechanical timer. The barrel pointed at the edge of a small block of polished titanium that bounced and spun loosely between two springs. Scorch marks zig-zagged over the block. That told me everything I needed to know.
“The firing pattern was too random for an expert killer like Jarnum,” I told Traore, pointing at the places where the laser beam had randomly cut dark gouges into the cavern walls. “The beams just reflected off the metal.”
I kicked the tripod over. The breach of the laser pistol’s barrel had melted down to slag and dripped onto the gravel. “This was a distraction,” I said.
Traore swore.
“He set the pistol to get everyone’s attention, and then started the fire at the excavation site,” I figured. “That would have provided a second distraction.” I shook my head, thinking that’s pretty much what Redland told us to expect. I still didn’t trust the marshal, though. He’d done too much to be forgiven so easily.
“How would he know where you went?” Traore asked, pointing at the tunnel we had emerged from. “There are several tunnels in the cavern. They all branch different directions.”
I pointed at the smoke curling lazily around several tunnel openings without going in, but streamed into the tunnel where the T’Neth train station was located. “The air circulation system told him everything he needed to know.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” Traore said. “If Jarnum was smart enough to get past the picture windows at the base of the mountain, why wasn’t he able to sneak into Dolina?”
“Maybe the tunnel was guarded too well, and somebody spotted him,” I suggested, but that sounded wrong. “No, I take that back. That little getup he created with the laser pistol and the tripod – that needed planning and time to implement.”
“It would take time to recon and set the fire, too,” Traore added. “This guy sounds like he has a flair for the dramatic.”
“Agreed,” I said. “That isn’t what bothers me the most, though.”
“What’s worse than that?” Traore asked.
“He got the laser pistols from the door into the mountain, but where did he get the tripod and the titanium block? I doubt he just happened to bring them in his pockets.”
Traore stared at me in silence for a long moment. “He had help.”
“This was an inside job,” I nodded. “Somebody in Dolina helped him make this grand entrance. I have a pretty good idea who it was, too.”
Traore swore again.
At that moment, Ofsalle ran up to us from the firefighting efforts at the excavation. “Are you two okay?” he asked, out of breath and covered with soot.
“We need your help,” Traore said, forgetting about Jarnum and dragging Ofsalle toward Mayford’s home. “Brady got shot.”
“What? Yes, of course,” Ofsalle agreed. “Of course.”
All three of us hurried back to Mayford’s place, where Ofsalle pushed his way to the table and immediately got to work on Brady. The other men had already peeled back Brady’s shirt, not a difficult task since the cloth had been cut neatly apart by the laser. His midsection was equally sliced. The wound didn’t gush. Instead, enough of the flesh had been cauterized that it only oozed blood between the blackened areas.
“Oh my,” Ofsalle said, and got right to work digging through a pile of instruments the other men had already laid out.
“Will he make it?” Traore asked, soundin
g frightened.
Ofsalle probed the worst parts of Brady’s burned torso, resting his hand gently on Brady’s shoulder when he moaned in agony. “The laser’s energy was absorbed largely by adipose tissue, enough that it didn’t pierce the musculature within his abdominal wall,” he told Traore. “I need to clean the burns and suture the cuts, but I think he will be okay.”
“Good thing you packed on a few extra pounds,” Traore joked to Brady, his shaky voice belying the fact that he didn’t feel at all in a joking mood. Then, turning to me with a flash of anger, he gritted his teeth. “Let’s find the bastard that did this.”
We gathered our gear and met up with the others at the railway barricade. Charles was gone. Norio stood next to Hathan-Fen, who still had the pistol trained on Redland. Mayford sat on a concrete footer near the rail lines.
“Told ya,” Redland said. “Jarnum’s cagey.”
I didn’t even try to argue with him. Instead, I gestured that we should head down the tunnel. The smoke had grown thicker, but there was still a bright haze at the far end where the waterfall droned. “Let’s find out where this tunnel goes,” I said. “Mister Mayford, we’ll need you to vouch for us at the checkpoint ahead.”
“Yes, Marshal,” Mayford replied.
Keeping Redland in the front, we walked into the smoky tunnel. When we got to the door leading to the Sanctum’s train station, I stopped.
“What is it?” Hathan-Fen asked.
“There aren’t any signs of tampering,” I said. “If he spotted the door, he would have suspected where it went.”
“He may not know about the Sanctum,” Norio suggested. “It is hidden fairly well.”
“From what I saw back there at the cave,” Traore said, “the second laser pistol should’ve cut through this door like it was aluminum foil. He couldn’t have seen it.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said. In my thoughts, I didn’t quite believe it. Jarnum had discovered the cave leading to Dolina – probably with help, I reminded myself – and also bypassed the false cave door. If he found that, I would expect him to find this door as well. Still, it looked untouched.
“Maybe he intends to save the laser for the T’Neth,” Hathan-Fen guessed.
“Could be,” I agreed.
“Do I have to be the one to say it?” Redland scoffed.
We all stared at him, waiting for some obnoxious flash of insight.
“He doesn’t need to force his way into the tunnel,” Redland said. “He’s going to draw them out. That’s how he thinks. He sets traps in a location where he’s got the advantage – where he’s prepped ahead of time – and lures his prey in.”
Redland was right. That’s exactly what Jarnum had done to me at Avaria. It made sense that he would follow the same methods here. There was one problem with the theory, however, which I quickly pointed out. “Jarnum couldn’t be familiar with Dolina unless somebody told him what to expect,” I said, looking squarely back at Redland.
“That’s an interesting thought,” Traore said. “Somebody must have given him a layout.”
“Exactly when did I have the opportunity to contact Jarnum?” Redland threw his hands up in a show of exasperation that would have fooled most people. Not me, though. I knew how he operated.
“You waited until everybody was asleep after last night’s meal and took Jarnum the materials he needed to infiltrate Dolina,” I said.
“I was asleep, too,” Redland countered. “Or did you forget about all that vodka we drank?”
“I wasn’t affected much,” I said. “Maybe you weren’t, either.”
“That’s a load of bull,” Redland seethed, “but I’m sure as hell not surprised you’d convince yourself of that. Kid, you’ve been wound way too tight for a long time. No, I really was drunk, and I really did pass out.”
“Prove it,” I said.
Redland shook his head. “Nope. You ain’t gettin’ my goat that easily. Even if I could prove it, there ain’t nothin’ I can say that you’d believe, so I don’t see the point in tryin’.”
“There is something I’d believe,” I said. “You could admit what you’ve done.”
“Marshal Redland is telling the truth, Alex,” Norio interjected.
“How would you know?” I said, angered by the interruption.
“I kept watch over him,” Norio replied calmly. “When I needed to rest, Major Hathan-Fen watched him.”
“Then how the hell did Jarnum get into Dolina?” I yelled, throwing up my arms in exasperation.
“Perhaps,” Norio said in his maddeningly calm voice, “he has been here before.”
Hathan-Fen frowned at Norio. “How is that possible?”
“Marshal Redland may suspect the answer to this himself,” Norio said, “Marshal, how did you learn about the tunnel that connects Dogleg to Sunlo?”
Redland’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t answer.
Hathan-Fen caught Norio’s inference. “Did Jarnum tell you about it?”
Redland shifted back and forth on his feet uncomfortably. “Shit.”
That simple expletive put more of the puzzle pieces together for me. “Is that why you broke Jarnum out of prison? He promised to give you information in exchange for his freedom?”
Redland rubbed his beard, deep in thought. Finally, he admitted it. “I’ve always figured the T’Neth were up to somethin’, so I found Jarnum at Ovalsheer Prison. Figured he could tell me how he kept up with the T’Neth, give me an ace to play against ‘em, maybe. He told me about a couple o’ tunnels – one that ran right under the prison, matter of fact - and about a place in the Colderlands where a bunch of T’Neth were hiding. I told him I’d spring him from prison if he’d agree to work for me again.”
“Apparently, you’re not the only one who knows how to use people,” I said. “He obviously knows how you think, too.”
Redland took a defiant stance. “I got what I needed from him.”
“You got a tunnel, and he got a war,” Hathan-Fen snarled. “Who do you think got the better deal?”
“I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve, darlin’.”
He shouldn’t have said that. Hathan-Fen bared her teeth in rage, and for once I was glad I wasn’t the one she was mad at. “Don’t call me darlin’ ever again.”
Redland hesitated, noticing that her pistol was now pointed directly at him.
“There’s still something that doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why would Jarnum flee to the Rekeire Plains after leaving Ovalsheer Prison? If his destination was Dolina, he went a couple thousand kilometers in the wrong direction.”
We all looked at Redland again.
“How the hell should I know?” Redland said defensively.
“I find that hard to believe,” Hathan-Fen said.
I was starting to believe Redland, in this case at least. “If Jarnum hasn’t been talking to Redland,” I asked, “how could he stay so close behind us?”
“Mister Jarnum has been one step ahead of us the entire journey,” Norio replied. “He has knowledge that he could not have gotten from anybody in our party. He has at times appeared in different parts of the world at nearly the same time. We now discover that he is familiar with the network of T’Neth tunnels and how they operate. Finally, he knows about Dolina. I suspect he may be a native of this place, and that he has access to more tunnels.”
“A native?” Hathan-Fen looked to Mayford.
“I haven’t heard of anybody called Jarnum,” Mayford said, “so I could not speak to that assertion. It is possible, I think. Not all Dolinians live out their lives in the caves. Some venture out on expeditions, and they don’t always return.”
“Jarnum is looking for the T’Neth,” I said. “Is it possible the T’Neth are looking for him, too?” Redland got him out of Ovalsheer, thinking they would meet at the maglev train in…Dogleg?” I looked to Redland for confirmation.
Redland looked into the distance, considering his answer. Finally, he nodded.
“O
nly he didn’t go to Dogleg, not at first,” I said. “Jarnum went to Rekeire. I don’t think he was after me, though. He set that trap to get me out of his hair, but he was really following Redland…and Xiv.”
“Who is Xiv?” Hathan-Fen asked.
“Xiv is a T’Neth that Redland and Norio have been working with,” I said, “I’m guessing they have a business relationship that goes back quite a while.”
“Seriously?” Hathan-Fen said, staring at Norio instead of Redland. “That’s something I should have known.”
“Bottom line,” I said, “I believe they were working with Xiv because they wanted him to know about Jarnum.” Redland raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing. I continued. “You were double-crossing Jarnum the whole time, weren’t you?” I asked.
“Yes,” Norio said. “It seems he discovered our ploy somehow. I did not anticipate that he would be able to travel from one end of the allied territories to the other faster than we could. He was to be a peace offering of sorts to the T’Neth.”
“More like a scapegoat,” I said. “That still doesn’t explain why you followed me to Rekeire. You weren’t looking for me, Norio. When you saw me at Dogleg, you were upset.”
“Xiv was looking for you,” Redland told me. “I’m guessin’ he found Kate and picked her brains ‘til he learned about your little affair. A T’Neth fallin’ in love with a human, well that’s just scandalous. He offered me a bag of gold to find you, but wouldn’t tell me what he had in mind.”
“A bag of gold,” I said, not surprised in the least.
“A lawman’s got expenses,” Redland shrugged as if that was the last word on the matter. “Anyway, I agreed to the job because I wanted to keep an eye on him.”
I wasn’t going to argue motivations with Redland. We clearly didn’t see eye-to-eye on anything, and time was of the essence now. “So, Kate ran away with the militia’s help while Redland led Xiv on a wild goose chase,” I said.
“That’s it in a nutshell,” Hathan-Fen said. “She didn’t want the T’Neth to find her and take her back home.”