"What was that thing with six arms, ma'am?" Elvis asked.
"We don't know," said Ben-Ari. "Maybe we'll find answers in the deep."
"Are there scum down there, ma'am?" said another soldier.
"We don't know," said Ben-Ari. "But be ready for them. Just in case. If we encounter the enemy down there, I know that you will fight well. You will be victorious. You will slay them. Look after your friends in the darkness. Listen to your squad leaders. You are good soldiers, and I'm proud of every one of you. You will prove your worth to the STC underground today. For Earth!"
"For Earth!" they all replied, raising their guns.
For Earth, Marco thought. For my friends. For my family. For humanity. For a library full of books and dreams of writing one myself. For that pale blue dot lost in the distance. For Earth.
They stepped through the serpentine gateway and into the darkness. A staircase delved downward, and even their flashlights could not pierce those shadows. Lieutenant Ben-Ari led the way, plasma gun held before her, and Marco walked directly behind her, aiming his rifle over the lieutenant's shoulder. Earth helmets came with an elastic net stretched over them, useful for holding leafs and twigs for camouflage. Tonight Marco was able to slide his flashlight through the netting, forming a crude miner's helmet, leaving both hands free for his gun. He could hear the rest of his platoon walk behind him, and Sergeant Stumpy came to walk at Marco's side. One of the soldiers had even sewn the Boston Terrier a miniature uniform complete with sergeant insignia.
The staircase ended after a few hundred steps. Metal doors were worked into a crude stone wall here. A control panel hung by the doors.
Ben-Ari stepped toward the control panel and hit a few buttons. Nothing happened.
"No power here either." The lieutenant snapped her bayonet onto her plasma gun, then slipped the blade between the metal doors. "Emery, help me."
Marco drew his own bayonet from his belt, snapped it onto his rifle, and slid it between the doors. He and Ben-Ari worked for a few moments, finally prying the doors open enough to reach between them, grab the doors with their hands, and pull them the rest of the way open. Marco's head spun and he nearly fell. Addy, standing behind, had to grab him by the seat of his pants.
"God," Marco said. "I am not good with heights."
"Good choice joining Space Territorial Command," Addy said.
Beyond the doors, a shaft plunged down into darkness. Two heavy chains, the links as large as hands, hung down the shaft like vocal chords in the throat of a metal giant.
"It's an elevator shaft, ma'am," Marco said to the lieutenant.
Addy reached from behind and mussed his hair. "That's why he's the genius. Next he might figure out this is a mine."
Marco shot her a glare. "Be quiet, Addy. You once thought that it's called an ass tray instead of an ash tray."
"It is an ass tray!" Addy bristled. "Because you put cigarette butts in it."
Lieutenant Ben-Ari reached out and grabbed one of the chains. She dangled over the edge of the shaft, just her heels back in the tunnel. "Be quiet, soldiers, and help me."
Marco felt queasy. He could barely look down the shaft, let alone reach forward far enough to grab a chain. But if he backed down now, he knew Addy would mock him forever.
"Addy, hold my hand," he said.
She waggled her eyebrows at him. "Romantic!"
"Shut it."
He gripped Addy's hand, leaned over the edge of the shaft, and grabbed the chain. As he leaned over the darkness, holding Addy for support, his head spun. Hurriedly, he pulled the chain back. It was damn heavy. Beast and Addy had to help, and they all tugged the chains, pulling them up, link by link.
Finally something began to rise from the shaft below, drawing closer, and Marco was suddenly sure that it was a creature rising from the darkness, a primordial beast of the depths, metallic, creaking, snapping teeth.
It's a cage, he realized, pointing his flashlight down. A lift cage.
When the cage reached the doors, hidden brakes automatically snapped onto the chains, keeping the cage elevated. The soldiers shone their lights inside. The lift cage was no larger than a typical elevator cabin, and a metal winch was attached to one wall. And on the floor . . .
"What . . . is that?" Marco said.
He leaned down, reached into the cage, and grabbed the lump. It was clammy and soft, like touching skin. He pulled it back into the tunnel, where he could take a better look, and grimaced.
"Ugh." Addy gagged. "It's a giant testicle."
Marco shook his head. "No. I don't know what it is." He shuddered, nausea rising in him.
The lump in his hand was the size of a guinea pig, wrapped in skin that seemed human. There were moles, even tufts of hair, but no limbs, no face, no holes. It was like a small pillow wrapped in skin, and it quivered in his hand.
"I think it's alive," he said. "Addy, take it."
She shook her head. "I'm not touching that."
It twitched in Marco's hand. "Guys, what the hell is going on here?"
"Maybe it's a naked tribble," Addy said.
"We'll take it with us," said Ben-Ari, opening her backpack. "Emery, wrap it up and place it here. We'll analyze it back on the ship."
Marco wrapped the creature—if a creature it was—in Ben-Ari's towel and placed it into her backpack.
"We can name this one Sergeant Skinny," Addy said.
"Soldiers, enough," Ben-Ari said. She spoke into her communicator in a low voice, then nodded. "All right. We're moving down into the mine." She pointed at a few soldiers. "Emery. Linden. De la Rosa. Abasi. Diaz. Squeeze in here with me. We're going down first, then we'll send the lift cage up for the others."
The lieutenant stepped into the cage, and Marco and the others followed. It was a tight squeeze. Their guns clanked together and their elbows banged. Lailani pressed up against Marco, her back toward him, and the top of her helmet grazed his chin. Kemi stood beside him, pointedly avoiding his gaze. Diaz and Ben-Ari, who grabbed the winch on the wall, began to turn it. The wheel creaked, rust flew, and the chains clattered. Inch by inch, the cage descended down the shaft.
Marco's flashlight soon caught words painted onto the shaft wall. 10 feet. They kept descending. Soon more words appeared on the wall. 20 feet. Ben-Ari and Diaz kept turning the winch. The air grew colder as they descended, and somehow it seemed even darker down here, so dark their flashlights could barely cast back the shadows. They could no longer hear the sound of the rest of their company above, just the creaking chains and their breath.
Marco leaned toward Kemi. "Just like the subway back home, right?" he whispered.
She said nothing, wouldn't look his way. She stared ahead, eyes hard. On the wall appeared the words: 100 feet.
"Ma'am," Marco said to his lieutenant, then looked at Corporal Diaz. "Commander. May I take a turn at the wheel?"
Both Ben-Ari and Diaz appeared winded, and when they released the winch, the cage swayed and banged against the stone walls. Marco grabbed the wheel and tried to turn it himself, could not. Addy helped him, and together they kept lowering the cage. Each foot descended felt like a mile, and Marco's arms were soon aching. Normally, he was sure, the cage was electrically powered, but they had to rely on their muscles now. Foot by foot. Plunging down into the depths.
It seemed like eras before they finally reached two hundred feet and rested. Marco's arms shook and his breath was heavy. Lailani and Kemi took a shift together next, and Marco was keenly aware of the awkwardness between the two women, how they refused to talk, even look at each other as they worked, spinning the wheel. At three hundred feet, Ben-Ari and Diaz took their second shift, and still the shaft descended into shadows.
"How fucking deep in this thing?" Addy muttered, then glanced toward her lieutenant. "Forgive the language, ma'am. But it is pretty fucking deep."
"Linden, watch it," Diaz said.
Hours seemed to pass, and there was nothing but this shaft, no memory of the world above. When
Marco gave up, he could no longer see the flashlights of his companions in the tunnel, only blackness. They might as well have been dangling in the depth of space. He had the sudden, terrible fear that the shaft would close in on him, bury them here, or worse—that the winch would get stuck, that they'd languish here for a slow death that could take days, even weeks. 400 feet. Eternities passed. 500 feet. 600.
When they reached a thousand feet, they all had to rest. They hung in the darkness, six soldiers in a cage, and sat pressed together for a drink of water and some battle rations. For long moments they were silent. The silence soon seemed intolerable to Marco, oppressing like the darkness, but he dared not break it, and a fear filled him that should he speak, voices would answer from the darkness, that his words could summon evil buried here.
Finally it was Lailani who spoke.
"What if it's one of them," she said.
They all looked at her.
"What is?" Marco said.
"The thing in Lieutenant Ben-Ari's backpack," Lailani said. "The living ball of flesh. What if it's one of the soldiers who went missing?"
Addy gasped. "What if it's its butt!"
Lailani turned to look at her, the flashlights reflecting in her eyes. "It's not funny. That skin looked human."
A collective shudder ran through them.
For the first time that day, Kemi spoke. "Maybe it's related to the skeleton we saw outside, the one with six arms. Maybe it's the juvenile form of whatever creature that was."
"I still think it's a butt," Addy said.
"Then don't show it your face, Addy," Marco said. "It might think you're a relative."
Lieutenant Ben-Ari sighed. "There's only one type of HDF soldier that can talk like that at a time like this. My soldiers." She rose to her feet. "Let's keep going."
They continued with their shifts, delving deeper down the shaft. Soon they reached 1,100 feet deep. 1,200. 1,300. Still they saw no sign of the end.
They were at 1,400 when the scream rose from below.
Marco and Addy froze at the wheel.
The others reached for their guns.
The scream lasted for only a second, maybe two, before silence fell again. The cage swung in the shaft.
"Was that human?" Addy whispered.
"It was the wind," Kemi said, but her voice was shaky. "Just the wind in the mines."
"That was a scream," Addy said. "Definitely a scream."
Lailani hugged herself. "It wasn't angry. He's in pain. He's scared."
"It wasn't human," Marco said slowly. "And it wasn't the wind. Something alien is down there."
"The scum?" Addy said, finger on her trigger.
Marco wasn't so sure. The skeleton with six arms, the ball of flesh—those hadn't been the scolopendra titania.
"All right, soldiers," Ben-Ari said. "We keep going. Anyone who isn't turning the wheel—aim your guns downward. Don't load any bullets yet, but get ready to quickly. But don't be too quick on the trigger. If we're dealing with colonists here, we don't want to get spooked and riddle them with holes." She grabbed the wheel again.
They kept descending, waiting for the scream to return, but heard only their own breath and the clanking chains. Every hundred feet, Ben-Ari reported back to Captain Petty above, speaking through her communicator. Marco thought the shaft would take them to the moon's core when finally, 1,535 feet down, they thumped against a floor.
"1,535 feet," Marco whispered. "That's taller than the Empire State Building. At least before the scum knocked it down."
They emerged from the cage into a tunnel. The floor, walls, and ceiling were craggy, crudely carved, still bearing the scars of the drills that had torn the pathway open. It felt like standing in the veins of a giant stone carcass. When they raised their flashlights, they illuminated rusty rails leading into the distant darkness. A few chains hung from the ceiling over the rails. One chain, just one among the group, was swinging.
"Something brushed past that chain," Marco whispered, pointing his flashlight.
They all pointed their own beams, but they saw no living beings, only the craggy walls, the chains, and train tracks leading down the tunnel.
Ben-Ari spoke into her communicator. "Lieutenant Ben-Ari reporting. Ma'am, we've reached the bottom of the shaft. It's over fifteen hundred feet deep. We heard a scream, but there's nobody in the immediate vicinity. You'll have to haul the cage back up and—"
With a series of thuds, the power came back on.
Lanterns worked into the walls cast an orange glow, barely more powerful than the flashlights but enough to reveal more of the tunnel. In the distance, Marco thought he saw shadows stirring, then fleeing, but perhaps it was only a lantern that was late to turn on. Grumbles sounded in the deep, great machinery awakening like ancient beasts rising from biblical slumber, hungry to feed. Thuds, clanks, grumbles—a cacophony muffled by immeasurable distance, working away, chewing, digging, industrializing, breeding in the depths. Closer by, the chains of the cage lift began to move, powered by the resurgence of electricity, pulling the cage back up the shaft.
"Perhaps timing," Addy said. "Just when my arms are about to fall off."
"Someone is still alive down there," Lailani said, peering down the tunnel. "Somebody got the power back up. The colonists fled here. They must still be hiding."
"Hiding from what?" Addy said.
"Aswang," Lailani whispered. "In the Philippines, we whisper of him. An evil creature that lurks in darkness, that sucks the blood of its victims, that deforms them."
"Ass wang?" Addy said.
Lailani glared at her. "Aswang. Do not mock him. I've seen him in my dreams." She shuddered. "This place reminds me of those dreams. I feel like I've been here before."
Addy patted her gun. "Well, if any ass wangs show up here, I'll shoot some bullets into them."
Six more soldiers descended down to the tunnel, then six more. They gathered along the train tracks, waiting as the lift cage began rising back up for more. The cage was moving fast now with the power back on. Marco was grateful to see that Sergeant Singh had made it down. The tall, bearded Sikh, with his heavy gun and curved kirpan blade, made the darkness seem just a tad more bearable.
Marco approached his platoon sergeant, was about to speak to him, when with a thud the power died again.
The tunnel plunged into complete darkness. The soldiers had turned off their flashlights in the brief moments of light, and the darkness was now complete, caressing, flowing around them.
Somebody laughed in the distance—too deep, too distant to be a soldier. Feet clattered above along the ceiling.
Marco switched on his flashlight, pointed the light above, and saw something—something stirring, vanishing, and when he chased it with his light, he couldn't catch it again.
The other flashlights turned on one by one. For a moment they were all silent.
Ben-Ari then spoke into her communicator. "Lieutenant Ben-Ari reporting. Captain Petty, ma'am, are—"
The disembodied voice of Petty emerged from Ben-Ari's earbud, loud enough for Marco, who stood nearby, to hear. "Fuck. We've got two fireteams halfway down the shaft. They'll continue descending manually. Stay where you are, Lieutenant. Do not proceed into the tunnels alone. Do you understand me? Stay where you are."
The fear was evident in Petty's voice, a slight tremble, a lurking, creeping hysteria. But there was no fear in Ben-Ari's voice as she answered her commanding officer.
"Yes, ma'am, sitting tight. Will report of any sign of trouble."
Ben-Ari's voice was cool and collected, her stance firm, her hand relaxed upon her gun. At that moment, Marco was incredibly grateful that Lieutenant Einav Ben-Ari was his direct commanding officer, not Captain Chihuahua.
The troops below—there were eighteen—stood by the rail, waiting, flashlights and guns pointing down the tunnel. The creaks and clatters of the lift cage sounded from the shaft above, growing closer foot by foot. As Marco waited below, movement from the tunnel caught his eye.
He stared into the distant shadows, but he saw nothing. The metal tracks led deep into the mine, and Marco thought of the scream he had heard from below. That single chain above the tunnel kept swinging, back, forth, back, forth, a pendulum, never slowing.
"Why does it keep swinging?" he whispered, pointing his flashlight down the tunnel. Whenever he moved his beam of light, shadows fled like living creatures. He thought he could hear a cackle, a creak, possibly just the lift cage making its way down the shaft.
"Marco?" A voice spoke behind him, and he turned to see Lailani approaching. Her eyes were wide, her face ashen, and her breath shook. She looked like she was going to faint. "Marco, there's . . ."
The shriek of shattering metal, followed by human screams, sounded from the shaft above.
The soldiers in the tunnel all turned toward the shaft. Metal screeched. Sparks rained.
"It's coming down!" somebody shouted. "The cage is falling!"
"Back, back!" said Sergeant Singh.
The soldiers leaped back into the tunnel. The sound grew deafening, metal tearing through stone, and dust flew, and with a shattering explosion of metal and stone and bending bars, the cage lift crashed onto the bottom of the shaft.
For just an instant, the soldiers in the tunnel stood still, staring at the wreckage. The cage had bent and shattered, still belching out dust. Still figures lay within.
Marco and the others ran forward. The soldiers inside the cage weren't moving. The cage door was bent, and they couldn't open it.
"Are they breathing?" somebody asked behind Marco.
"They're dead," said somebody else. "God. Look at the blood. Look at the bones."
"We're trapped here," Elvis said. "Oh God, we're trapped down here."
"Move, move, let me open it!" said Beast, and the giant soldier walked toward the cage, grabbed the bars, and—
One of the figures inside the shattered cage stood up. Beast gave a startled yell and stumbled back from the bars. Inside the smashed lift cage, the figure brushed off dust and shook her head, scattering debris from her platinum hair.
Earth Lost (Earthrise Book 2) Page 11