This was life underneath the ice, and the soldier knew it well. He was doing the prisoner a favor by reminding him of that fact.
Eric tried to compose himself, struggled to make his body move, stand, work.
He risked one look at the blank, glittering helmet of the Vector5 soldier. “Why?” he rasped, scarcely able to speak. “What could be so important? What could matter so much that…what happened…just wouldn’t matter?”
The soldier did not speak. He did not remove his helmet. After a moment he simply moved the end of his rifle, from aiming at Eric’s stomach to aiming at his head, and said tonelessly, “Get back to work.”
Eric got back to work. The pulped body of his friend had already been removed by others just like them—other laborers, other workers just a little too valuable to kill…just yet.
Over a mile away, the DITV began its climb to the side of Tunnel 5, a huge and deadly robotic insect on the prowl. The team knew their mission.
They would be taking no prisoners.
THE ENCAMPMENT
Samantha walked through the encampment without any real destination. She just needed to keep moving—for her peace of mind and for the tiny amount of warmth that movement generated.
She came across Nastasia, sitting in a corner of the roughly hewn ice room by herself, holding her inhaler in one hand and looking thoughtful. Sam had noticed the device when they were still in the Spector, but she hadn’t mentioned it before—there was simply too much going on.
She stopped in front of the Russian beauty. “Hey,” she said.
Nastasia’s head snapped up, surprised by Sam’s sudden arrival. For one moment she looked almost afraid—then just embarrassed.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I do not like to…take care of this…in front of other people.”
Sam gave her a gentle smile. “I am a doctor, you know. I might be able to help you.”
Nastasia shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not with this.”
“Is it asthma? There are many more advance treatments available these days, far past the old nebulizers.” She nodded at the little canniser-and-pump device in Nastasia’s hand. “That looks like a pretty up-to-date gadget, I admit, but—”
“No,” Nastasia said shortly. “It’s not asthma. And I prefer not to discuss it.” Her eyes burned for a moment, and then she looked away. “Thank you,” she said, dismissing Samantha.
“Oh,” Sam said, slightly stunned by the rudeness. “Oh. You’re welcome.” She turned on her heel and walked away quickly, stung by the rejection. Around the next ten-foot pile of debris, she found Simon and Lucas in deep conversation, and she didn’t like what she saw.
Lucas was lecturing their leader—again—and Simon was not taking it well. He shifted from foot to foot, scowled with impatience, tried to interrupt and didn’t succeed, balled his fists and let them loose again, all in an attempt to remain reasonable—or at least give that illusion.
Lucas was holding a complicated bit of robotics, a roughly spherical mechanism with more legs than body—something she had heard called a “scrambler drone,” just hours before.
“You have to understand the scope of what we’re dealing with here,” Lucas began again.
Finally, Simon had taken all he could stand. Samantha could see him snap, even from a distance. She held her breath and tensed; she almost covered her ears in anticipation of Simon’s explosive reaction.
“No,” Simon said, his voice dripping with badly suppressed anger. “I don’t ‘need to understand.’ I understand enough. You need to understand that I’m not waiting here anymore. Now just tell me: where the hell is my father being held?”
She had never heard him sound more tightly controlled…or more dangerous.
“Look,” Lucas said, sounding perilously close to condescending “I don’t think you—”
Simon grabbed Lucas by the neck and yelled, “I don’t give a fuck what you think.”
Max stepped forward and put a hand on Simon’s upraised fist. “Hey, let’s—”
Simon shrugged it off, his muscles tense as iron. “Tell me!”
It was Samantha’s voice that cut through him. “Simon!” she snapped. “Please!”
He faltered then, but only for a moment. His eyes flicked to the side to meet hers, and he abruptly let loose of the scientist’s jacket collar and stepped back, letting the man collapse to his knees, clutching his throat and gasping for breath.
Samantha started to say something more, but Simon held a hand up to her to stop the interruption. He had already communicated what he had intended: there was no stopping him, and Lucas understood that now.
“All right, then,” he said roughly, rubbing his neck. “Traverse the broken tunnel above the Gorge; that will descend a mile onto the opposite side, and take you to Dragger Station, where there are more Vector5 than I’m willing to deal with.” He gave him a hooded, hostile look—no longer the friendly colleague of a few minutes ago. “You’re welcome to take one of the MagCycles with you, if you think you can manage it. And good luck in that frozen hell.”
Simon didn’t thank him. He simply turned and walked out of the encampment alone, finding his small duffel bag and stuffing it with a few of the ration packs they had brought from the Spector and some climbing supplies. Max followed close behind, looking grim and resigned. He knew there was no stopping him at this point.
Samantha’s body had gone cold with the realization of what was coming next. It’s too soon, she thought. Too fast. The team had been given no chance to sleep; they had barely eaten. Their level of tension concerning their own survival was higher than ever, and here was Simon, already pushing ahead.
Ryan stood up and said, “Simon, how are we all going to fit inside one ice cycle?”
Simon turned back instantly. “We’re not.”
“But…”
“But what, Sam? I’m going down myself.”
Andrew shook his head violently. “No,” he said. “No. We’re in this together. You can’t just do this on your own.”
Simon held up his hand again as if he didn’t need compassion any more than he needed argument.
“I need you guys here,” he said. “You need to figure out how the hell to get us out of here.” He snapped a look at his father’s friend. “Hayden,” he said sternly, “I’m counting on you to get back to the Spector and make her operational again before I return. And that won’t be long.”
“You’re daft,” the inventor said.
“…And you’ll need Ryan and Andrew both to pull that off.”
Hayden looked stubborn for an instant. “You’re still daft,” he said defiantly. “You’re right, but you’re still daft.”
“Don’t you think for a moment that you’re leaving this camp without me!” Samantha said sternly.
“I am. They need you here, and so do I.”
Her mouth tightened into a hard line of pain. Nastasia was already gathering her own belongings. “I’ll come with you,” she said as if she already knew what the response would be. “You’re going to need someone to help you navigate, and I’m the only one here who has a sense of the continent’s topography.”
Right then, something clicked inside Simon’s head, as if it was meant to be. The note, the rendezvous, the sign on the back of her neck. It felt as if she was supposed to be here. He could not put his finger on it. He looked at her head on and simply said, “I know.”
Max allowed himself a small smile knowing there was more to this than he originally thought.
The room fell silent for a few seconds. Simon threw his half-filled duffel over his shoulder and said, “It’s time.”
He walked over to Samantha and kissed her. He tried not to notice how she was fighting to hold back tears. “Sammy,” he said gently, “I’m coming back. With my father.”
She couldn’t contain her emotions as he let her go; she turned from him, weeping as he stepped away and tapped Hayden on the chest.
“I’m counting on you.”
Samantha turned back to look at Simon one more time. Instead, she caught a glimpse of Nastasia’s slim figure following Max and Simon toward the fleet of MagCycles at the far end of the dark tunnel, the silhouettes of their bodies growing smaller and smaller as they walked away, until she could no longer see them.
Max took only a moment to squeeze into the pilot’s seat. He was already adjusting his helmet as Simon climbed into the passenger seat, and Nastasia pressed in front of him in a space not truly meant for a third party. Seconds later, the cycle’s powerful engine fired up and an electric blue light began to glow from the sides of the magnetic wheel. Before they even had a chance to feel the vibration building beneath them, the cycle tore up the ice below its wheels and exploded into the dark tunnel at lightning speed.
Nastasia’s body pressed tightly into Simon. All Simon could think of was Oliver.
* * *
Samantha turned back to see Hayden and the men already hard at work. Exhaustion and starvation didn’t matter to them; they had been given a job: fix the Spector, find a way out, and they were going to do it. They had little time to reach the Spector before the CS23s reached it. They had to move fast. She approached and heard the tail end of an odd conversation.
“…there is more than one network of tunnels down here?”
“Precisely,” replied a German scientist named Rolfe—once rotund, now hollow-cheeked and flabby from malnutrition and stress. “High-speed tunnels, not meant for human transport. They are using special pods that travel hundreds of miles across the continent suspended magnetically from structures embedded into the ice tunnels for transport of resources from one end of the continent to the other. There are only a few vehicles fast enough to travel in these high-speed shafts, and sometimes Vector5 uses them. They are known as Ice Raptors.”
“Well, people wouldn’t need to use them for the most part, would they?” Ryan asked. “Moving resources and supplies I understand, but surely with the cameras and communication systems, it doesn’t make sense for Vector5 to have humans travel these distances at these speeds.”
Rolfe shrugged. “I agree, but sometimes Vector5 has to transport personnel. Using the Raptor is very dangerous, however. There have been more than a few catastrophes where pods have slammed into the receptors and sliced through them. We’ve heard of a few openings on the other side that are easier to escape with, but I definitely do not suggest traveling through the transport tunnels to get there!”
Hayden looked bitter—another alternative eliminated. Samantha watched the men converse for a moment longer, then turned to walk along to the makeshift kitchen area where their meager food supplies had been laid out, scattered over random cases sitting on the icy floor.
She started to pick up an unopened MRE and noticed Nastasia’s nutrition pack slumped against the back of a crate, half-buried in discarded wrappers. It almost looked hidden.
Samantha pulled it from the trash and walked over to Hayden with a confused look on her face. Hayden was still in deep concentration over the plan to restart the damaged Spector, even though it was stuck in an icy tunnel miles away. She plopped it down on the floor next to Hayden.
“She left her med-bag here.”
Hayden looked up, completely distracted. “Who left what?”
It caught Andrew’s attention. “That’s odd,” he said. “She held onto that thing as if her life depended on it.”
Samantha nodded thoughtfully, then turned the pack over, letting the contents spill onto the worktable next to Hayden’s plans.
“Hey!” he protested, but she ignored him.
She pushed her fingers through the debris that had been in the bag. Nothing important, really: scraps of papers, a pen, a bottle of headache pills. “The inhaler is gone,” she said, more to herself than anyone else. “She must have taken it with her.”
“No she didn’t,” Andrew said. “She left it on the Spector.”
Samantha frowned. “But I saw her with it, just a few minutes ago—just before they left.”
“I’m sure,” he said and squinted as he recalled the last few minutes aboard the amphibious vehicle. “She was using it for whatever was bothering her. Then she shoved it into her nutrition pack and left it in the ready room. I’m positive.”
Samantha shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she do that? And why would she have two of them?”
“Back-up?”
She shook her head one more time. “Have you seen these new inhalers? A year’s supply or more. And still: why put it in with a med-pack of vitamins and protein powders of all things?
“Maybe she took the other one with her,” replied Ryan. “She—”
“No,” Lucas said shortly, still out of sorts from his earlier disagreement with Simon. “I helped her buckle in. She was carrying nothing—certainly not an inhaler or…or any kind of small bag. “
Samantha began to lose herself in thought.
Lucas mistook her confusion and concern for weariness—though he wasn’t far wrong.
“Here,” he said, “let me show you a place you can rest for a little while.”
She wanted to say “no”—she wanted to resist with all her strength, but she realized resting would be the smart thing to do. She was going to need her strength.
“Thank you,” she said quietly and followed him to an insulated sleeping tent.
THE NETWORK
7:05 AM
Nastasia used all her strength to grip the armrests of the chair beneath her, steeling herself against the tremendous pressure of the MagCycle’s acceleration. She gritted her teeth as the unrelenting weight pushed and pushed against every square inch of her body.
The MC-7 was an ergonomically designed little cockpit connected to a massive ice-tire by a magnetic field, and that huge wheel carried its passengers down the cored tunnels of the Vector5 network at speeds that were beyond comprehension. It felt as fast as a bullet shot from the barrel of a rifle because of the narrow tunnels. Max struggled to control their headlong flight through a console that closely resembled the yoke of a small fixed-wing plane with foot-pedals and slide-buttons that dictated speed, attitude, and acceleration. He wore a flat-faced HUD navigation helmet that gave him a supernaturally clear view of the tunnel ahead, complete with luminous annotations on cracks, irregularities, and potential hazards. Max had used similar rigs in supersonic fighter planes over the years, but he had never seen one on a land vehicle before—and certainly never on a magnetically constructed unicycle that traveled over a hundred miles an hour.
All Nastasia could see outside the cockpit windscreen was a blur of black shadows flowing past in an endless torrent, illuminated only by the fitful flicker of the MagCycle’s own headlights. Her body swayed to one side, then the other, then back again as they careened forward through a darkness as thick as ink. And still the pressure made it almost impossible to breathe.
Max concentrated on his HUD diagram. In no time at all, he knew, they would reach the end of the tunnel, where it had been sliced open, sharp as a knife-cut from the great earthquake a dozen years ago. They would actually have to leap across that gap to the tunnel opening on the far side, if they hoped to reach Dragger Pass and below onto deeper tunnels and the elevator shaft that would take them to Oliver Fitzpatrick. He knew leaping across that Gorge almost meant suicide and they needed to accelerate full speed to even have a chance.
He did the only thing he could: he pushed his foot down even harder on the accelerator pedal and poured the last bit of power from the MagCycle’s electric generator into its wheel. He actually felt it jump forward, yet again, hitting and exceeding its top speed.
It was the fastest he had ever traveled on land.
Nastasia was painfully aware of how the massive acceleration was hurting Simon, sitting behind her, but there was nothing she could do about it. “Simon?”
she said between clenched teeth. “Are you all right?”
He didn’t speak, but she felt the tight, brief nod of his head against her collarbone as he struggled to bring it forward from the pressure of the speed.
The downward angle of their headlong flight suddenly grew steeper, and the MagCycle picked up even more speed. I didn’t think that was possible, she told herself. She heard Simon curse under his breath as blood started rushing into their heads.
“Mother of god!” Max shouted as he looked into the lens of his helmet. “See the Gorge, and it’s fucking huge.”
“Think we’ll make it?” Simon shouted back, his voice betraying some of the strain of her weight on him, as well as fear for all their lives.
“We have to,” Max said simply as he steered them down one last, long straightaway. His gloves gripped the yoke more tightly than ever.
“When will we—”
“NOW! HOLD ON!”
Max stamped on the accelerator to gain the last threshold speed, and Nastasia saw the world open up, revealed in a dim gray light that fell from high above them. The end of the tunnel spread wide open directly ahead; a cliff was visible on the far side of the Gorge, absolutely uninterrupted but for one ridiculously small circle—the other side of the tunnel directly ahead and below them, their target. But she was seeing so much more: a world that went up and up and disappeared into infinity and that plunged downward into impenetrable darkness. One that spread its arms into invisibly distant corridors left and right. She gaped at the tremendous space all around her, rushing toward her, during the one brief heartbeat that she still had solid ground beneath her.
Then they were airborne, projected from one side of the massive Gorge to the other in one long, almost graceful leap from the broken edge of the tunnel to its counterpart on the far side.
Max used all his strength to pull the control yoke back toward his body, shifting it to the left at the last moment as they flew, aiming for the tiny target of the tunnel mouth on the far side. G-forces caused Nastasia’s body to multiply its weight five times more as they flew; she heard Simon grunt as the pressure became literally unbearable.
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