A Dark and Hungry God Arises (59 page)

'We're going in, ' Angus announced harshly. 'Shoot anybody you see, Amnion or human. ' Shoot Milos, if you can. 'Be ready to shoot yourselves - unless you like mutagens.

'If you've got some idea how to find Morn, I'm listening. '

Sib shook his head. His features twisted as if he were about to puke.

'As far as I know, ' Nick remarked slowly, 'there's only one entrance from the rest of Billingate to the Amnion sector. She'll be near there. Unless she's one of them now, in which case she could be anywhere. '

'Why?' Angus rasped. 'Why there?'

'Because they don't trust me. ' Nick grinned like his scars. They don't trust her. There's more than one kind of kaze. They've learned to be careful. They won't risk, say, an explosion that might do them real damage. They won't let her anywhere near their operational center, or the shuttles, or that damn warship' - he nodded toward Tranquil Hegemony — 'or any of the places where they work or live, until they're sure she's safe. '

Damn. Angus had to admit that Nick was right. But the airlock into Billingate was probably farther away from where he stood now than any other part of the Amnion sector.

The longer he stayed inside this installation, the more vulnerable he would be. He knew in the marrow of his bones that his programming would never allow him to kill Milos.

Too bad. Prewritten logic compelled him. It left no room for hesitation.

Bracing his cannon in both hands, he stepped into the airlock.

At once his fear turned the color of sulfur.

Outside Nick tilted his head again to study the featureless dark. As if he were talking to himself, he murmured softly, fervidly, 'Do it. Don't wait. Do it now. '

Then he followed Angus.

While Mikka and Sib joined him, Angus made new adjustments to his faceplate, refining away the wavelengths which the Amnion liked best as if he could tune out panic and ruin.

Nick didn't wait for orders: he thumbed keys on the inner control panel. An almost subliminal groan carried to Angus' external pickup as the airlock cycled shut. A moment later he heard the hiss of pressurization as atmosphere pumped into the lock. Displays inside his helmet told him that he could breathe the air - if his life depended on it.

As soon as the airlock pressure had been equalized, the inner door irised.

It opened on an empty lift.

'Down, ' Nick said unnecessarily. 'I don't know how far. Your guess is as good as mine. '

Angus' computer ran complex calculations, comparing what he knew of Billingate and Thanatos Minor with the estimated size and depth of the Amnion sector; he let numbers spin through him while he entered the lift. By the time Nick, Mikka and Sib had left the lock, his computer had come up with its own guess.

The lift's controls showed twenty-five indicators: he had that many levels to choose from. Holding his breath involuntarily, he keyed the tenth.

Servos closed the iris like a shutter. A heartbeat or two after the door shut, the car dove for the depths of the rock.

Angus positioned himself against the back wall so that he could level his cannon. 'I'll lead, but I want you beside me, Nick. ' His voice distressed the inside of his helmet.

'Don't make me use this thing if I don't have to. '

Matter cannon had been developed for use in the void, where the secondary and tertiary quantum discontinuities could be discounted. No man in his right mind would fire such a gun within walls.

Nick replied by showing his teeth.

'Mikka, ' Angus went on, 'you and Sib cover my back.

You cover him — don't let anything happen to that suit. '

Through her faceplate, he saw her nod. 'We are going to get out of this alive, aren't we?' she asked grimly. 'I promised Ciro I would come back. '

'If I survive, you probably will, too. They may have a whole rucking arsenal handy, but it won't include anything like this. ' Angus waggled the end of his cannon.

That was as close as he could come to telling her the truth.

The lift seemed to plummet like a stone, but it didn't scare him. Instead he felt a small piece of his visceral dread break away, lost in the fall. At least now he was no longer EVA. He was inside, where the vast dark couldn't reach him -

With a palpable wheeze, the car braked to a halt at the tenth level.

Sib snatched his handgun off his belt. Mikka tightened her grip on her rifle. Nick and the muzzle of Angus'

cannon faced the door as it slid aside.

Apparently the unauthorized use of the lift had attracted attention. An Amnioni with several arms and at least four eyes stood waiting. A bandoleer across its shoulders carried spare charges for the heavy, rust-caked weapon in its hands.

Nick's reflexes were almost as fast as Angus'. Before the Amnioni could twitch, he slammed it in the chest with impact fire.

His gun made a muffled sound like dynamite buried in cement, and the Amnioni staggered backward. Spraying strange, greenish blood from a massive hole in its chest, the creature hit the wall and fell onto its face.

Together Nick and Angus sprang out of the lift.

Sib made a choking noise, as if he'd swallowed his tongue. Mikka grabbed his arm and shoved him into motion ahead of her.

Angus scanned the corridor in both directions, wheeled to orient himself. His computer scrolled design hypotheticals through his head. To the right, the passage stretched empty for a considerable distance. To the left, it turned a corner out of sight after ten meters.

That way, his computer said — to the left; away from Tranquil Hegemony's berth.

He pointed Nick in that direction. 'Go!'

Nick sprinted toward the corner; then dove skidding onto his belly as two more Amnion armed with heavy rifles came into sight.

They were ready: they'd heard the distinctive concussion of an impact gun. As soon as they caught sight of Nick, they began to lay down fire.

Energy beams sizzled in the air like frying flesh.

Reacting at machine speed, Angus jumped backward, blocking Mikka and Sib out of the way. But he couldn't shoot: at this range his cannon's blast would reduce Nick to pulp and grease.

Nick's dive carried him under the blare of beams.

Before the Amnion could correct their aim, he hit them both.

Echoes rolled like distant thunder down the corridor, calling for the Amnion to notice that they were under attack.

Angus ran. By the time Nick regained his feet, Angus had reached the corner.

Beyond it the passage went straight for twenty or twenty-five meters, past several closed doors and one lift.

There it met another door as high and wide as the entrance to a meeting-hall. From that point it turned left again.

Nick came up beside Angus; started to pass him.

Instincts squalled in Angus' head: he stopped Nick with an arm like a steel bar.

This was why Hashi Lebwohl and Warden Dios had chosen him. Trained by a lifetime of cowardice and violence, he had instincts which no computer could match.

'Now what?' Nick demanded.

At that moment the high doors opened. Reacting to the sounds of detonation, six or eight Amnion crowded outward to see what was happening.

'Time for another diversion, ' Angus snarled tightly.

Planting his weight, he fired his cannon at the Amnion.

The blast nearly deafened him: the gain on his external pickup was set too high. If he hadn't braced himself -

and if he hadn't been welded for this kind of work - the concussion might have ripped him off his feet.

Mikka staggered backward. Sib fell on his back with an inarticulate cry that seemed to echo like the blast through the devastation in the corridor.

For an instant pulverized concrete clouded everything; the lighting flickered as automatic relays rerouted power.

Then the dust cleared, sucked into the air scrubbers, and the effects of matter cannon fire in an enclosed space became visible.

Only rubble remained of the meeting-hall. Even its far wall was gone, ripped open on service shafts snarled with wiring and conduits. So much concrete and steel had been torn from the walls and ceiling that Angus could see little else: the bodies of the Amnion had disappeared as if they'd been atomized. He might have been looking at a bomb crater in one of Earth's embattled slums.

Through the neural reverberation in his ears, he heard alarms of all kinds - wails of structural damage; warnings of bloodshed; calls to battle.

A diversion wouldn't do him any good if he stayed there to see what would happen next. 'Come on!' he shouted. Too loud, he knew he was shouting too loud, his companions could hear him without that. But if he didn't shout he couldn't hear himself.

Mikka helped Sib back to his feet. At a run Angus led them and Nick to the lift.

They jumped aboard, and he sent the car down one level.

The corridor it opened on was completely deserted.

Apparently every Amnioni in the vicinity had already left to deal with the emergency above.

If one diversion was good, two would be better. Give the Amnion reason to think they were under a completely different kind of assault. Angus thrust Nick, Mikka and Sib out of the lift. From his belt he detached a limpet mine; he set its timer for thirty seconds, clamped it to the side of the car, hit controls to send the car on downward. Then he jumped out as the doors closed.

Nick muttered, 'I guess we won't be coming back this way. ' He sounded amused.

Angus consulted his computer. Already its design hypotheticals had gained definition, detail. It measured the dimensions of the corridors, the lift's apparent rate of travel between levels: it compared that data to what he knew about Billingate's scale and orientation within Thanatos Minor. For the first time it offered him close order estimates.

Two hundred fifty more meters.

On this level.

Assuming Nick was right.

Angus started into a fast trot. He would have run harder, but now he couldn't afford to leave Sib or Mikka behind.

They passed one corner, then another, before he heard the distant crumpling explosion of the mine; felt the vibration nudge against his boots.

At his back Mikka's gun hammered twice, three times.

Amnion must have emerged from one of the doors behind him. Sib's handgun emitted an aimless whine, as if he had no idea what he was shooting at.

More corners. Angus' computer revised its estimates.

Somewhere the creatures were marshaling their defenses - enough Amnion to simply overrun the human intruders. He had to hope that they were confused about the kind of danger which threatened them. Otherwise he could only believe that they knew what he was after -

and knew how to stop him.

Abruptly he found a wide passage running straight in the right direction.

Dozens of other corridors Ted off from it, every one of them as threatening as the mouth of a pit. Nevertheless it offered him a chance to make better progress. He couldn't refuse.

A winking red indicator inside his helmet told him that his suit's climate controls had exceeded their tolerances.

He was sweating too hard: they couldn't process so much humidity. Soon he would be in danger of dehydration.

Growling to himself, he sent Nick along the left wall, Mikka and Sib down the right. With his cannon he covered the view ahead. From the center of the passage he drew his companions along as fast as they could go.

Nick, too, had been trained for fighting: he also had good instincts. At the first intersection on his side, he undipped a grenade, armed it and threw it hard along the corridor. Then he slung his rifle over his shoulder and picked up his handguns. They made less noise.

Mikka followed his example.

Almost at once she triggered fire into the gullet of a corridor. When she was satisfied that her target was dead, she pulled Sib forward.

The blast of the grenade sounded shrouded and small, too minor to do much damage.

Ninety meters, Angus' computer estimated.

Seventy.

With both guns Nick blazed a barrage down one of the side passages. 'Got you, you bastards, ' he growled softly.

Sixty.

'Time to start looking. ' Angus' voice seemed to scrape in his throat. He could hardly squeeze up enough spit to swallow. 'Slow down. Watch for doors with guards. '

He was too exposed, too easy to spot. Grimly he sent Nick and Mikka ahead of him; he waited for them to signal that the corridors were clear before he crossed the intersections.

Where are you, Morn? How am I going to find you?

Are you still human?

Do you still want to kill me?

He should have turned off his external pickup completely. Milos was here somewhere; he had to be. All he needed was an intercom or a loudhailer, and Angus would be finished.

But his programming rejected that elementary precaution. He needed to hear what happened outside his suit.

It's got to stop.

God damn you, Dios! If you really wanted me dead, you could have done it easier than this!

Warned by nothing but instinct - the pressure of intuitive panic between his shoulder-blades - he whirled suddenly, wrenched the mass of his cannon around and brought it to bear just as five Amnion surged into the passage. From fifty-five or sixty meters away, they hurtled in his direction. Their crusted skin and their quasi-organic weapons made them look more like engines of destruction than sentient beings.

Like artillery his cannon howled at them. In an instant they were gone, effaced by rubble and dust.

So much for stealth.

The blast seemed to multiply in his ears as if he were at the bottom of a cavern, buried in reverberation. He barely heard Mikka hiss from the corner of an intersection, 'Angus, here!'

Thirst parched his tongue; his throat was clogged with sand. Slowly, disoriented by echoes, he lowered the cannon, took up his laser. As smooth as a cat, Nick came to his side; together they moved to the wall behind Mikka and eased forward.

Past the corner he saw a short hall - thirty meters at most - open at the far end. Several doors marked the wall at regular intervals. Unlike the entrances he'd seen until now, these were heavily reinforced, as massive as the doors of cells.