Voice of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Three)

by Lawrence White

  Krys’ floater and one additional floater were loaded to the gills with supplies: no one knew how long the team would be in the tunnels, and it could be for as long as two weeks. The men and cats carried full backpacks as well. Borg led with Reba by his side. A Terran and Great Cat guarded the rear, and Washburn, Tarn, and the remaining three team members escorted Krys on her floater.

  Carrying a heavy pack through twenty miles of enormous, echoing tunnel in the dark challenged even Washburn. Everyone wore headlamps. Lights bounced eerily across the tiled ceiling and walls, to be swallowed up a few dozen paces away. The two Protectors in the rear spent as much time walking backward as they did forward, an exhausting gait. A dozen orths attacked before they’d gone a mile. Reba was the first to detect motion, but Borg was not far behind, nor were the rest of the Protectors. Hairy, white, multi-legged bodies fell from the ceiling and walls from expertly aimed stunners. Knives came out, and the orths died in their sleep. Reba knew the remains would not last long: other orths would strip them to the bones during the next day or two. She gathered up two of the disgusting creatures and placed them in a bag at her waist.

  The team trudged on, headlamps illuminating the way in front while darkness collapsed into the maw behind. Total isolation weighed heavily on the team, the only sounds those of boots on the cavern floor and deep breathing. It was even worse for Krys. Her imagination conjured up all sorts of horrors, all of them within a dark, hellish place, an environment in which she could not protect herself. She hated the helpless feeling, and the occasional brief sounds of fighting kept her on constant edge.

  The first spider trap was a good lesson for all of them. Reba stopped the team and used hand signals to point out the sections of web. She eased forward and saw the head of the gnanth move slowly in her direction. It had sensed her. She had to move fast before it struck. She tossed a dead orth up to the web on the ceiling. The moment the web shook, webs on the walls and floor sprang together, forming a ball hanging on a thread in mid-air. This particular gnanth ignored the collapsed web and launched itself toward Reba. Multiple stunners took out it and the second gnanth that was in the process of attacking the hanging web, it’s sharp mandibles simultaneously piercing the ball to kill its prey while shredding that web.

  A droplet of sweat ran down Reba’s cheek, her eyes in dark shadow cast by her hat. That famous grin of hers couldn’t have been farther from her mind. Her body shook and her mouth twisted into disgust. “I’ve had my share of spiders for a while,” she said. She thrust the burner into Washburn’s hands. “Your turn. Use this on the net. Don’t let the net touch you. It’s poisonous.”

  Washburn took care of the net while Borg took care of the gnanths. When Washburn returned to her, his brow wrinkled. “The spiders feed on the orths. What do the orths feed on?”

  “We’ve never seen their prey. Turn your lights off and hold silent.”

  Washburn looked at the rest of the team uncomfortably. “Are you sure?”

  “It’ll be okay for a minute or two.”

  Lights extinguished, and everyone held still. Soon, the chittering of small feet could be heard, their direction hard to determine. Washburn turned on a lamp, but there was nothing to be seen.

  “We’re guessing they’re rats or something like rats. We really don’t know. They’ve not been a problem for us,” Reba said.

  * * * * *

  Until now the goal had been to leave as little evidence of human presence as possible within the tunnels, but with all the soldiers due to come through these tunnels in the coming weeks, it was time to leave clear directions. Reba drew large arrows periodically on the walls, and she glued tiny repeating transmitters in place every mile inside the main tunnel. When they transitioned to the smaller tunnels later, she would place transmitters at every significant bend. These repeaters would permit the use of low-powered radios by everyone. Later teams would bring battery operated lights, as well.

  They made it all the way under the forest before stopping for the night, a trip that had taken four of them several days the first time. Clearly, earlier efforts had made a dent in the underground ecology. Ahead of them the corridor spiraled up to the basement level of the Palace, the incline gentle enough to enable heavy loads of supplies to make the grade but steep enough for everyone to know they were climbing. Inside the Palace itself the tunnel had been sealed off long ago, and that seal still held.

  The team reached the maintenance portal the next afternoon. The corridor continued upward, but the team branched off through the portal into Mike’s tunnel system.

  Washburn turned his light toward Krys. “Still see the gleasons?”

  She nodded. “I do.” She held out an arm with a finger pointing away from the Palace.

  “Okay. If you sense us getting near, or if the direction changes, let us know,” he said.

  Reba reminded everyone that they were now definitely in stealth mode. Mike’s tunnel system was, in general, about ten feet beneath the lowest servants’ corridors and sound did not carry well through rock, but too much sound could still give them away. They left the second floater and a large portion of their supplies just inside the portal entrance and continued ahead much less encumbered.

  These tunnels had been more traveled by Mike, Josh, Reba, and Val, but even so, the team still encountered orths and the occasional spider. Reba groaned every time she saw a web. The Protectors traded honors and she did not have to take part, but no one was stupid enough not to watch. The spiders were fast and did not hesitate to leave the web at any time. Her body shook with the willies each time a spider raced into view.

  The maintenance tunnels were not straight, and Reba spent more time placing repeaters at the turns. It took the better part of a day before Krys said they were getting close. Everyone huddled together for discussion.

  “We’re under the spaceport on the military end of the plateau,” Reba said.

  “They’re probably keeping them in seclusion here until the meeting,” Borg said, nodding his great head. “Managing the gleasons will not be an easy task for them.”

  “I see four groups of approximately 50 each,” Krys said. “The groups are not far from each other.”

  Washburn’s eyes widened. “Two hundred? That’s bad news.” Then a sudden grin practically lit up the tunnel all by itself. “I wonder if we could take them out right here before they deploy?”

  Reba started to shake her head, but she had learned better over the preceding months: the moving light would be disorienting for everyone, herself included. “You know the rules: no shots fired before Josh gives the word. We can’t risk letting the other side know of our presence.”

  “I meant just before the operation starts, or maybe simultaneously with the first shot. I wasn’t planning to shoot them. I want to blow them up. The Rebels might not deploy all of them if they don’t have to - like Borg said, they’ll be difficult to control. Or they might leave a reserve force somewhere. We can’t pass up an opportunity like this.”

  Reba grinned. “I like the way you think, Terry. Pass the word back to Josh.”

  “They’re moving, some of them,” Krys said suddenly.

  “Can we follow them?” Reba demanded curtly.

  “Back the way we came. I think there are five or six. The rest have not moved.”

  “Scouting party,” Washburn said.

  “No,” Borg disagreed. “Training party. If the Rebels call for the gleasons, they will want them quickly. They have to teach them how to move around.” He considered, then said, “The plateau is fairly well populated now by senators and their staffs. The Rebels will not want to scare them, and they will not want the gleasons hurting innocent people. If I was in charge, I would place the lowest level of corridors off limits to everyone else and let the gleasons use them.”

  “If that’s the case, they’re very close right now,” Reba said in a near whisper.

  Talking stopped, replaced by hand motions. The team started back the way they’d come, headlights
dancing across tunnel walls. The gleasons moved quickly, faster than the team could keep up, but Krys kept them in her mind. As near as they could tell, the gleasons traveled all the way from the east end of the plateau to just short of the Palace, then returned to their starting point. As soon as they did, another group started out.

  The team decided to let them go on their own. Borg spoke quietly, his hand rubbing his chin. “I think we’ve learned something about the gleasons. To travel so many corridors would confuse most of us. They must have an ability to remember where they’ve been. If not, the exercise would have been futile. That is a powerful help to the Rebels. The gleasons, when called, will not have to wait for guides. They will move at high speed, and they are fast. Josh and Otis have to know.”

  Small groups of gleasons followed this pattern throughout each day and night. Washburn moved Krys to various parts of the complex and waited for gleasons to approach. Reba marked positions on her chart of the complex, and by the end of a week most places on the chart had been marked. The gleasons had not approached the three weapons control centers, and they had only come up to the edge of the Palace grounds. It looked like the Palace itself was off limits to them.

  No one had to spell it out. Struthers was planning to move into the Palace soon and he did not want to wake up to a stray gleason.

  * * * * *

  The team made its way back to the main corridor for a break. Borg reported in to Josh and Otis and passed on what they had learned. They could have done so from anywhere in the tunnel system, but their operation had become as silent as it possibly could.

  “One more thing,” Borg added. “We need some portable toilets up here. 600 guys are going to be an issue.”

  “They’re already on the way,” Josh advised. “You can expect a few early groups of our guys, then a constant stream three days before the operation begins.”

  Borg and his team were taking another break inside the main corridor when dancing lights on heads and shoulders announced the arrival of the first group. Mike and Val led 58 Raiders and 6 Chessori, all of them dressed in full battle gear. Val immediately went to Reba. The two embraced, then he stepped over to Krys. She had only just come out of a meditation period and lit up with a smile when Val announced himself.

  Mike reminded Borg’s team about this part of the battle plan. “Two squads of 18 Raiders and two Chessori will take out each of the weapons control centers. Major Barnes here will coordinate their attack and retreat. His men are dressed as Imperial Marines, and that’s risky for them, but it’s the only way to get them in. The Chessori are along in case too many questions get asked. They are traders, not K’tiri, so their scree is not as strong as we’ve been accustomed to. It’s effective out to about three hundred feet.”

  “That’s pretty far,” Washburn remarked. “Won’t the scree give away the fact that something is happening?”

  “Timing is everything,” Mike answered. “They hit their targets at the same time Nancy Shaw shows herself. The Rebels will focus on her, and it will likely cause some confusion among them. They won’t expect her to just appear out of nowhere. Once the gleasons are set free, there will be a period of very little control. If Forg and his men resort to the scree, anyone within its range will be incapacitated. Defenders on the fringes of the scree won’t know where it’s coming from. In fact, we don’t think any of the Rebels have ever experienced the scree.”

  “I have never met a Chessori,” Krys said. “May I?”

  Mike stepped over to her floater. “They do not know about your talent, Krys, nor do they know what the scree does to you.”

  “They will not learn about my talent from me,” she said. “Surely you don’t expect them to sound the scree right now.”

  Mike turned to Val. “What do you think?”

  “I’ve known Forg for two years. He is as honorable as I am, and he’s been Tested. I have no reservations.”

  Val brought Forg over to Krys. “She’s my sister,” he explained. “She is a Knight of the Realm, and she, too, has experienced the scree. In fact, it’s effect on her is much worse than on the rest of us. It’s blinded her.”

  Forg went to a knee before her, though she could not see him. When he stood up, he reached out a hand to her. “I am so sorry, My Lady.”

  Val guided her hand to Forg and the two touched. Krys’ face lost all expression for the few moments it took to receive a vision, but then her lips firmed and she reached out with her other hand to grasp Forg’s hand with both of her own. “It is my pleasure to meet you, Captain. You have paid a high price to be here.”

  “A price that might increase without warning. I willingly pay the price, My Lady.”

  “An open-ended exchange from a trader?”

  Forg smiled, a rare thing for him. “Your brother’s very words. A small price to pay considering the payoff.”

  “I’ve been away. What sort of agreement have you reached with my Queen?”

  “For the moment, a private agreement. We might find a more convenient place for conversation later.”

  “We will, Captain. Be assured. Welcome to the Queen’s forces. I hope you do not have to betray any of your brothers.”

  “The only brothers I have on this planet are here in this corridor, My Lady. The ones to whom you refer have forfeited the honor of calling themselves Chessori.”

  She nodded. “I would hear more. Perhaps when we are done here.”

  Forg nodded and backed away, sensing his part of the conversation was done.

  Mike, Val, and Reba each led a team of Raiders to their assigned targets. Val led Team One all the way back to the military end of the plateau. This team would have the longest retreat, and its target was deep under the military command center. There were significant numbers of K’tiri in the command center, so any delay in their retreat after the attack would make retreat difficult.

  Mike led a second team to its target under Palace City. The weapons control center there was situated directly beneath one of the gzeikolts. This team had several options for retreat: they could fight their way directly to the surface and join the expected fighting up on the plateau; they could follow the marked retreat tunnel back to the exit point under the chamber itself; or they could come up through staff offices in the wall separating the chamber from Palace City. Their commander, Major Barnes, would provide a best suggestion if they chose to leave the tunnel system early.

  Reba clapped her hands in delight when she saw Stevens and Walters leading their squads. Stevens had been promoted to captain, and Walters was now a lieutenant.

  “I fought the promotion,” Walters told her in front of everyone. “I never wanted to be an officer, but I was given no choice. As soon as we’re done fighting out here I’m going back to sergeant . . . Ma’am.”

  She grinned. “By then you’ll probably be a general. They don’t let generals be sergeants, Walters.”

  “Maybe I’ll join the Imperial Marines. They won’t care, and this is a pretty cool uniform.”

  This team had the shortest distance to the target which was located in the center of the park outside the chamber, but it was not through well-traveled tunnels. More, the team would be in position for days, days which the spiders and orths would use to restore their normal balance, and a high speed retreat might be problematic. She briefed them on what to expect, then she and Walters took point position.

  She didn’t take a direct route to this team’s assigned position. She first took the men to their primary exit point under the chamber. From there, she clearly marked the route they would follow during their retreat.

  “Uh, any other routes we should know about?” Walters asked. “I wouldn’t mind having an alternative or two.”

  He handed her his map of the complex and she marked two more exit points. She pointed to the farthest, located near the plateau edge under the staff offices. “This one hasn’t been checked in months. There will definitely be spiders and orths, probably lots of them.”

  She set off with
Walters by her side. Everyone on the team had a stunner in hand. She gritted her teeth when they came upon the first spider trap. They had not encountered the orth yet, and she had nothing she was willing to part with to activate the trap. Instead, she located the spider and stunned it. The web collapsed on it instantly, and the second gnanth raced along the roof to its partner. She stunned it, then went forward with the burner. She had nearly reached the spiders when her body refused to go any farther no matter how hard she tried.

  Her hand trembled when she handed the burner to Walters. She stepped back, unable to make eye contact with anyone. She leaned her back against the tunnel wall, then slid down into a sitting position. At that moment, she would have given almost anything to see sunshine again. Only a few more days, she kept telling herself. She felt like she’d been living in this hellish place for months on end.

  When she delivered them to their exit point from the tunnel, she tested them. “How many levels up is the control center.”

  Stevens grinned. “Two levels down and 50 meters to the right when we emerge . . . Ma’am.”

  She grinned in return. “Okay. I’m out of here. I’ll see you up in the real world, sometime soon I hope.”

  Stevens detailed Walters and two other men to escort her back. She fought the decision, but she didn’t fight it very hard.

  “How do you feel about this mission?” she asked him. “Are you going to make it out?”

  “We’ll make it out. It’s just a matter of when.”