Earth Lost (Earthrise Book 2)

by Daniel Arenson

  "Osiris," Marco whispered.

  The android grabbed the bent bars, yanked them open, and stepped out of the cage into the tunnel.

  "We fell," Osiris said. "The others are dead. Their bodies were weak."

  It was a grim task, pulling the corpses out from the cage lift. There were five of them. Young soldiers. Marco doubted any of them were older than twenty. Their bones were shattered, their mouths still open in silent screams. The living soldiers covered the dead with blankets from their backpacks, but Marco knew that those agonized, frozen faces would always haunt him.

  As Ben-Ari communicated the situation to her commander aboveground, Sergeant Singh began to sing a prayer for the dead in a low voice. The other soldiers stood with him, heads lowered. During the prayer, Marco felt eyes peering at him, and he glanced up to see Osiris. Her lavender eyes shone, and she gave him a small, mirthless smile.

  When the chant was done, Marco approached the wreckage of the cage lift. He stepped between the bent bars and stared up the shaft. It rose into darkness, over fifteen hundred feet of stone and shadow. Marco grabbed a segment of chain; it still hung from the bars in the cage ceiling. He frowned, knelt, and lifted a second chain.

  These chains had once supported the cage lift. Their links had been sawed through.

  "Ma'am," Marco said, looking at his lieutenant.

  Ben-Ari approached, as did a few of the others. They stared at the chains together. Marco passed his hand over one broken link. The cut was smooth, as if a circular saw or laser had sliced through it.

  "These did not bend and snap under the weight, ma'am," Marco said. "Somebody cut them. Somebody sent this cage lift crashing down on purpose."

  "The fucking robot did it!" said Addy. She raised her gun, yanked back the charging hammer, and pointed the muzzle at Osiris.

  "Fuck." Elvis spat. The young soldier was pale and shivering, perhaps remembering how Osiris had choked him back on the Miyari. He too raised his gun, loaded a bullet, and aimed at Osiris. "Fucking robot must have sabotaged the ship too."

  A few other soldiers raised their own guns, loading bullets into chambers, pointing the muzzles at the android. Osiris stood calmly, stared at them, and tilted her head.

  "Are you angry at me, masters?" the android asked.

  Addy spat. "Don't you masters us, you piece of junk." She flicked off her gun's safety. "I'm going to put a bullet through your goddamn mechanical brain."

  "Wait, wait!" Marco said. "Addy. Elvis. Beast. Wait. How could she have cut the links? She has no saw." He turned toward Ben-Ari. "Ma'am, the android has hands, like we do. Strong hands, but the links aren't crushed. They're cut."

  "So she tossed aside her saw," Addy said, keeping her muzzle pointed at the android. "Lieutenant Ben-Ari, permission to put a bullet through the android's head."

  A small high voice emerged from Ben-Ari's earbud, barely audible in the tunnel. "Ben-Ari! Ben-Ari, what the fuck is going on down there? If you destroy STC property, I'll have your hide!"

  Ben-Ari ignored the captain. The lieutenant stared at the android, stared at the soldiers, stared back at the lift cage. "Emery," she said. "Go search the wreckage for a saw or laser blade. Anything that could have cut through the links."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  As the others kept their guns pointed at the android, Marco rummaged through the wreckage, then turned back toward his lieutenant. "Nothing, ma'am. Do you think . . ." He looked up the shaft and shuddered. "Maybe scum lurking in the shaft? Their claws could have sliced through the links."

  Ben-Ari nodded. "All right, soldiers. Lower your weapons. We have no evidence against the android."

  "She's the fucking saboteur!" Addy shouted, then forced her voice down. "Ma'am."

  "She's a machine, Linden," said the lieutenant. "A very expensive machine."

  Osiris nodded. "I am programmed to serve humanity, masters. I did not cut the chains, and lying is against my programming. I believe it likely that scum lurked in the shaft."

  "You serve the scum," Addy said, refusing to lower her weapon.

  Marco chewed his lip. He had a lot of respect for Ben-Ari, but he was inclined to agree with Addy and the others. He didn't trust Osiris. He remembered his encounter with her in the Miyari's chapel, how she had unnerved him. How she had choked Elvis. Could she have been the one to sabotage the ship's engines during the scum attack? Could the scum have hacked into her programming? But how did that explain the lack of any saw?

  "She couldn't have cut the cables," Marco finally said. "Addy, she has no blades. It had to be the scum up there, hiding in the shaft, using their claws."

  Another unpleasant thought came to him. Could Captain Petty or one of her troops cut the chains, attempting to seal Ben-Ari and her platoon down here? No. He shook his head. Captain Petty was perhaps vindictive, but she wouldn't murder her own soldiers . . . would she?

  "Private Linden, lower your weapon at once," Ben-Ari said to Addy. "That is an order. That goes for all of you."

  Grumbling, Addy lowered her gun, as did the others.

  "Now unload your guns," said Ben-Ari.

  Muttering among themselves, the soldiers pulled open the chambers of their guns, fished out the loaded bullets, and returned them to their magazines.

  "I'm going to keep an eye on you, robot," Addy said, pointing at her eyes, then at the android.

  Osiris smiled sweetly. "I'm happy to serve, mistress."

  Petty's disembodied voice emerged, shrill and shaky, from all their earbuds at once. "What's going down there? Report to me, dammit!"

  Ben-Ari spoke into her communicator. "We retrieved five bodies from the wreckage of the cage lift, ma'am. Osiris was the only survivor of the fall. We believe that scum might have attacked the cage lift during its descent. Awaiting your orders."

  "We'll try to find another shaft in the city," Petty said. "This is a large mining colony. There will be other ways down. In the meanwhile, begin to explore the mines with your soldiers, Lieutenant. Find the azoth engine. That's all that matters now. Not finding colonists. Not engaging the scum. Just find that engine we need, and we'll blast off this goddamn rock." A hint of hysteria was creeping into the captain's voice. "Stay in constant contact with me. We'll find each other in the mines, then find a way out."

  "Yes, ma'am," Ben-Ari said. "There's a tunnel down here that leads deeper, and there are eighteen of us—nineteen counting Osiris—all armed and fully stocked with ammo. We'll begin our exploration."

  "Remember, Ben-Ari," said Petty through the communicator. "This is no longer a rescue mission. Do not engage the scum! Do not get into trouble. Find the engine and . . ." Her voice faded.

  "Ma'am?" Ben-Ari said.

  For a moment, silence. Static.

  "Oh God," Petty said, her voice emerging from everyone's earbuds.

  "Ma'am!" said Ben-Ari. "Is everything—"

  "Who are you?" Petty whispered. "What are you? What do you want? Stay back! Stay back, all of you! Stop! Soldiers, fire! Fire!"

  With a burst of static, Petty's voice died. Screams and gunfire sounded, so loudly Marco had to rip out his earbud. But he could still hear the gunfire echoing down the shaft, still hear the screams. It couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds, but it seemed ages that the gunfire rang above . . . then finally fell silent.

  "Ma'am!" Ben-Ari said into her communicator. "Captain Petty! Can you hear me? What is your situation?"

  Only static emerged through the earbuds.

  The soldiers below stood silently for a long time.

  "Are they dead?" Elvis finally whispered and gulped.

  "Captain Petty!" Ben-Ari said again, speaking into her communicator. She tried contacting a few others. No replies.

  "They're dead," Elvis said, looking queasy. "We're trapped here in the darkness. And the scum are up there. They're up there, and they're down here, and we're trapped, and—"

  "Private, enough!" Ben-Ari said. "Count to ten. Calm yourself." She looked at the others. "We are not trapped. We are
not going to die down here. You heard the captain. There are other shafts. We just have to find one with a working cage lift. But first we're going to find that engine so that we can repair the Miyari. Now follow me. We go down the tunnel. Keep your flashlights on, keep your guns raised, and keep your voices low."

  With that, the lieutenant turned and began walking along the tracks down the tunnel, leaving the shaft behind. The others followed, plunging deep into the darkness.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  They walked down the tunnel, nineteen soldiers, flashlights strapped to their helmets, guns held before them. Sergeant Stumpy walked with them, a flashlight attached to his miniature uniform. The walls were crude as if carved by a living creature. The ceiling was so low it grazed Beast's helmet. The train tracks stretched onward, and the tunnel sloped, moving deeper underground. The overhead lights flickered on for just an instant, revealing words painted onto the wall in what looked like blood.

  Marco spoke the words in a low voice. "Turn back. Death below."

  Addy hefted her gun. "We are death."

  The lights gave another flicker, then died again. Marco hoped that meant somebody was alive below, working at fixing the power. The soldiers kept walking. Wind blew from the depths, cold and rancid, smelling of old meat and worms. The wind moaned like a dying man. Booms and thuds sounded in the deep, clanging metal, a muffled cry. Marco couldn't tell if he was hearing survivors, scum, or just the machinery of the deep flicking on and off, sending echoes through the dungeon.

  They kept walking down the tunnel, moving hundreds of feet along the rails. The stench grew with every step, so intolerable that Marco and some of the others pulled on their gas masks. The stink of death.

  A few more steps and Marco froze.

  He raised his flashlight.

  His heart burst into a gallop.

  "Who's there?" he cried out, raising his gun. Around him, the others raised their weapons too. They shone their flashlights ahead.

  A figure. A figure stood in the dark. Black, thin. No, not stood—hung.

  They approached slowly, guns raised, casting more light on the figure.

  "God," Marco whispered.

  Elvis covered his mouth and turned green.

  The man hung from the ceiling, a chain wrapped around his neck. His face was bloated, his tongue dangled from his mouth, and scratches as from fingernails had torn his cheeks. He wore a blue uniform, the logo of Chrysopoeia Corp still visible on the shirt.

  "Poor bugger," Addy said, poking the corpse with her muzzle.

  "Don't disturb the dead," Lailani said, crossing herself. "They will curse you if you taunt them."

  Marco stepped closer to the corpse, grimacing, thankful for his gas mask. The man's belly was already distended with the gasses of death, and he was dripping rot. A piece of paper was folded in the corpse's hand. Marco pulled it free and unfolded it.

  "What does it say?" Addy said.

  "Wait, step back," Marco said. "Give me room. Away from the corpse. Thing stinks." They took a few steps away, and he read from the paper. "'They took them. All of them. My wife. My children. I saw them, I saw what they are, how they crawl, how they begged me. They are everywhere. They are in the machines. They are in the water. They are changing. I won't become one. I won't grow. I won't let them. They are everywhere. I hear them now, coming closer, the ones with the claws. If you see my family, do what I could not. Kill them. Kill them. They are coming. I am a coward.'"

  Marco folded the paper again and shivered. They were all silent for long moments, staring at the corpse.

  "The scum?" Addy whispered.

  "Demons," said Lailani. "Demons in the darkness. We're walking into Hell."

  "We're going to New Jersey?" Addy said.

  "Enough," Lieutenant Ben-Ari said. "There's no such thing as demons, no such place as Hell. We are not defenseless miners. We are soldiers of the Human Defense Force. We slew many scum in Fort Djemila. We will slay any scum we find here too. Leave the corpse for now. We keep going deeper. We will find that engine, we will find another shaft, and if we can, we will find surviving miners too. In a day or two, we'll be back on the Miyari, and this will all be a bad dream." She walked past the corpse, heading deeper down the tunnel. "Follow me."

  They walked for another few hundred meters when a massive shadow blocked the tracks. The flashlights shone on yellow hides splashed with mud, metallic wheels, and jumbles of cables spilling out from the beast like entrails. It was a small train. A train with three roofless carts, each about the size of the lift cage, just large enough for five or six soldiers to squeeze into. The locomotive seemed just large enough for a single engineer—a cramped yellow box with an engine, one seat, and a few levers. Two headlights formed eyes on the locomotive, and the entire train suddenly seemed to Marco like a living creature, a great centipede of metal, sinister, mocking him, a machine of the scum.

  "It looks like one of those kiddie trains they have at amusement parks," Elvis said. "It's cute."

  "Kiddie trains aren't covered with rust and bloodstains," Marco said.

  "They are where I grew up!" Elvis said.

  The train still unnerved Marco. That locomotive, with its headlights and bumper, resembled a face just too much—a mocking, cruel face. But he had grown up in Toronto, had taken the subway there many times. This couldn't be too different.

  "I call engineer!" he said, then instantly realized how childish he sounded. His cheeks flushed, especially when he saw a few other soldiers smirk. He turned toward Ben-Ari. "Ma'am, if we can get this train to work, our journey will be faster. The train might also offer some protection."

  She nodded. "Let's try it."

  Marco stepped into the locomotive at the head of the train, and Stumpy hopped up beside him, his docked tail wagging. Marco sat down on the tattered faux-leather seat. It was cramped, and his knees banged against the dashboard. The cart was open on both sides, and only a flimsy roof hid the ceiling. Marco hit the ignition switch, and the locomotive grumbled, belched out smoke, rattled, and died. Marco flicked the ignition a few more times, and the engine finally growled to life.

  The train began to move.

  "Whoa, hold your horses!" Addy said, walking alongside. The train was still slow enough for her to keep up. "Stop and let us board."

  Three levers thrust out from the dashboard. Marco chose the largest one and pulled it back. The train slowed to a halt, and the others climbed in, six soldiers per cart, their guns held between their knees. Marco pushed down on the lever, and the train moved again, clanking and grumbling down the tunnel. Marco tried the second lever, and the headlights turned on, sending beams into the darkness ahead. As they chugged on through the craggy tunnel, Marco felt like a parasite, traversing the desiccated entrails of a corpse. He kept seeing creatures in the shadows, but as the train drew closer, they vanished, mere figments of his imagination.

  The words in the suicide note kept returning to him.

  If you see my family, do what I could not. Kill them. Kill them. They are coming.

  What sort of madness could drive a man to want his family dead? Where were the other colonists? What was that hairless, featureless thing in Ben-Ari's backpack, and what was the skeleton with six arms? Demons, Lailani had said. Hell. No. Nonsense. Marco didn't believe in such things, but there were too many riddles here, and the unknown in the darkness seemed crueler than the claws of the scum. Back in Fort Djemila, at least the enemy had attacked in the open. At least they had been enemies Marco could shoot at. But here? Only shadows and echoes.

  Signs on the walls marked the distances passed. One kilometer. Then two. And still the tunnel stretched ahead, so narrow the train nearly scraped against the rough walls. The headlights reached only a few meters ahead. The rest was darkness, a constant abyss ahead of them, a black hole in the stone, eternal, the shadows dancing around it, and—

  A woman ahead.

  A woman in a gray robe, staring with a white face and shining eyes.

  Ma
rco started and yanked the lever, and the train screeched, showering sparks, driving forward, forward, slowing down, finally halting.

  The woman stood before him, head lowered and turned aside, hidden in a hood. She stood on the tracks, still, wrapped in the robe.

  "Marco!" Addy leaped out from her cart behind and trudged forward. "Why did we stop? We—" She froze. "Holy shit."

  The woman in the gray robe stood still, silent, a few strands of white hair emerging from her hood. She seemed not to have noticed the train.

  "Ma'am, are you all right?" Marco said and stepped out from the locomotive. Other soldiers emerged from their carts and walked to join him. "Ma'am, we're here to help. We heard your distress call. We're soldiers of the Human Defense Force. Ma'am?"

  The woman spoke in a whisper, head turned aside. "You are too late."

  "Ma'am, are you injured?" Marco said. "We can help you."

  "You can no longer help us." She turned her head toward them, letting her hood fall. Her face was young but her hair white, her eyes haunted. All the horrors of hell seemed to dance in those bloodshot eyes. "You should run. They came for us. They will change you. Run. Run."

  "Who, ma'am?" Marco said. "The scolopendra titania? The scum?" He reached out to her. "Are you hurt?"

  She took a step back, shrugged her shoulders, and let her cloak fall around her feet.

  Marco grimaced.

  Her body was naked, pale, her nipples deep crimson and dripping bloody milk. Six arms grew from her torso, each ending with a single claw instead of a hand. Her lips peeled back, and fangs thrust out from her gums.

  "Help me," she whispered. "Help . . ."

  Her eyes blazed red, and the woman howled—a howl so loud the tunnel seemed to shake. Dust rained from the ceiling. The soldiers raised their guns, and the woman leaped toward them.

  "Wait, don't shoot!" Marco cried, but soldiers were already firing.

  Bullets slammed into the creature, tearing through her flesh, but they couldn't stop her. The woman leaped onto one soldier, a tall man of the STC, and the claws sank into his flesh, then tugged back, ripping out ribs. The soldiers fired more bullets. One soldier cried out, a bullet fragment sinking into his leg. Another fragment grazed Marco's arm, tearing the skin. The woman leaped again, landed on another soldier, and sliced through her throat. The flesh opened in a lurid grin. The creature leaped back, landed in the tunnel, and hissed.