The Line of Polity (66 page)

Read The Line of Polity Online

Authors: Neal Asher

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Space Opera, #Adventure

BOOK: The Line of Polity
10.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Behind the waterwheels, but before the lock, a level bridge stretched across the river. Cormac observed that tunnels had been bored into the wall on either side of the river's entrance. Lellan had told him earlier that exit seventeen lay to the right of the Watergate, and this was soon confirmed for him when he saw the large 17 etched into the rock above one tunnel right ahead of him. Soon he plunged into it, lights coming on automatically above him. The tunnel drifted left in a slow arc and eventually emerged into the natural cave cut by the river. For a while he motored along on a narrow track beside the thundering white water, then his route cut away from the river bank and began to rise. When he began to find himself gasping for breath, he had to flip his breather mask up, realizing that it wasn't the airlocks that retained the oxygen in the larger cavern. He guessed that it must be continually topped up, which confirmed his suspicion about there being other sources of energy, since greenery would not be able to do the job alone.

A few minutes after donning his mask, he came to an open area where a couple of vehicles were parked in front of a circular armoured door, with a smaller door set into it. Three soldiers stepped out of their vehicles, as he halted his own and got out. One, who was evidently an officer, approached him.

"We are to offer you all assistance," she said, her fingers resting against her coms helmet, while she listened to instructions delivered through the device.

Cormac studied her and then the two big men with her. He was frankly tired of seeing people around him die. "Just confirm for me how to get to
Lyric II
once I reach the surface."

"We'll take you there," the woman insisted, taking her fingers away from her helmet at last.

"No, just give me the directions," he repeated.

The woman gestured behind her. "There's only one route down the hill, which takes you directly to the river. You follow that downstream to the Cistern, and the ship rests on the largest beach. You won't see it though."

"I know all about the chameleonware," Cormac replied, heading for the smaller door. Then he paused and turned back. "Tell Lellan ..." He paused, momentarily unable to go on. If he failed in his attempt, this whole planet would be denuded of human life. If he succeeded, however... he succeeded.

"Tell her the Polity
will
come."

The woman smiled at this, and he did not add that they might well be coming to inspect an ashpit over a charnel house.

The calloraptors' racket outside ceased once the pulse-cannon started up again. Gant had dragged over a heavy pedestal-mounted grinding machine, and jammed it against the warped and mutilated door of the workshop, before turning back to Thorn.

"We'll need to do something about that." The Golem pointed at Thorn's shattered leg.

"No, really?" said Thorn, groping in the bag of medical supplies he had earlier retrieved from the ATV. Finding what he wanted he slapped three drug patches on his knee, and a further one on his biceps. Gant moved off to scour the workshop and small storage room attached. Shortly he returned with rolls of insulating tape, a plascrete sprayer, and varying lengths of alloy tube that was probably used for water pipe.

"I can see what you're thinking, and I don't think I like it," murmured Thorn. Before the analgesic patch on his biceps had fully done its work, he wrenched out the aerofan fragment imbedded in his arm. That there was no instant gush of blood to denote a severed artery almost surprised him, as that was the way his luck had been going. He then caught the roll of insulating tape Gant tossed him, and wound some of it tightly around the wound. Meanwhile, Gant was studying his leg.

"Here, take this," the Golem said at last, holding out the plascrete sprayer.

"So you're qualified in field surgery?" said Thorn, groping for humour.

"Who took that bullet out of your arse on Thraxum?" Gant muttered.

"I was trying to forget about that." Thorn looked away while Gant taped lengths of the alloy tube to his boot, and bound them close to the protruding fracture.

"I'll pull it straight," said Gant. "When I give the word, I want you to start spraying the plascrete."

Thorn nodded, then yelled out in agony. He watched in morbid horror the splintered bone drawn back into his flesh as Gant pulled the leg straight. When the limb seemed about the correct length, Gant gave the order and Thorn began to spray. He yelled again as the reacting epoxies burned the open wound. As soon as his lower leg was encased in its makeshift cast, Gant hauled him to his feet.

"At least you can walk a little now," said Gant.

"I'll not be winning any races," growled Thorn.

Gant turned to look towards the entrance. "You know, if that pulse-gun stops again, that door won't hold them out much longer," he said.

Thorn shrugged. "Do we need
longer
to formulate an escape plan?" he asked.

"You know, you get even more sarcastic as you get older," said Gant.

"At least I have that option," said Thorn. Then noticing Gant's odd glance, he added, "To get older, I mean."

Gant stared at him. "It bothers you that much, about me?" he asked.

"I grieved for your death, and now I feel cheated," said Thorn.

"You may not have been cheated, as whether or not I am really Gant is a moot point. I never intended for you not to know, but I had the memplant put in thirty years before I even met you — when I was a kid back on Earth. It just never seemed important enough to mention."

"That you were immortal?" asked Thorn.

"Is it immortality? I don't know. I
do
know that many other Sparkind have memplants, so why don't you?"

Thorn shrugged. "Just never got round to it."

The firing of the pulse-cannon ceased again, followed by the roar of calloraptors storming up the tunnel outside.

Gant headed towards the door. "Do me a favour," he said. "If we ever get out of this, get yourself memplanted, will you?"

"Can you still get drunk?" Thorn asked as Gant stepped over to the door, and braced himself against the grinding machine.

"I have that option," Gant replied, his expression puzzled.

"Then I will get it done, and we'll celebrate in
Elysium.
"

Gant did not get much chance to reply to that as the first calloraptor hit the door and managed to wriggle its head around the warped metal.

Eldene woke with a start. She had fallen asleep despite the cold, her back propped against the rail and her head resting on the Outlinker's shoulder. He seemed to put out plenty of warmth, though, and when she realized he had his arm around her she felt a surge of some feeling she did not really want to identify. She realized that Stanton — a bulky silhouette against the stars and one tumbling moon of the predawn sky — must have spoken and that was what had woken her.

"About ten minutes," Stanton continued, and from that Eldene surmised they would arrive on solid ground soon. Apis did not remove his protective arm from her. Glancing at him in the half-light, she saw no sign of embarrassment at such new-found intimacy.

"Ten minutes until we land?" Unsteadily she stood, the rail seat flipping back up behind her, and looked out over the lightening mountains. Behind them, Calypse was a brown dome blistering up from the horizon, which was barely distinct from the sky above it. Below was a river valley, deep in shadow, but she could still distinguish the mercurial glitter of water.

"Yeah, ten minutes," Stanton confirmed. "Do either of you know how to fly one of these things?" He tapped a hand against the steering column.

Standing up also, Apis said, "The controls seem simple enough. I don't see any difficulty."

Stanton said, "Well, if, as you said, you brought in a lander without ion engines, I should think you able enough."

"Why do you ask?" Eldene inquired.

"Because, when I head for my ship, you can take this aerofan to the nearest Underworld entrance." He looked at Eldene. "You remember where it is?"

Eldene nodded, feeling an immediate sinking sensation. With one incident so rapidly following another, she'd had no time for thoughts of the future. It had often in fact seemed laughable that she might even have a future. Now she just didn't know... she just didn't know.

Ahead, a wide lake caught between sheer rock faces became visible, but from this angle it took Eldene a moment to recognize it as the one they called the Cistern — the landing spot of
Lyric II
. The ship, of course, was invisible somewhere on the further shore. In a moment Stanton brought the aerofan down low, its down-blast disturbing insectile shapes from their roosts on half-submerged rocks in the lake, and causing the flute grasses behind the shore to roll like sea waves. Stanton eventually landed them on a narrow beach Eldene recognized. As the fan motors wound down, Stanton opened the rail gate and stepped down onto sand and shells. Eldene noticed the insect things crawling back up onto their rocky perches.

"I'll be back in a moment," he said, "then you can head off." He turned away and started walking up the beach.

"As he walks towards it, he'll disappear," she informed Apis.

"Yes, chameleonware, I know about that," the Outlinker replied.

Eldene felt a flash of anger at his conceit, but still she was glad to be with him. "They used it on
Miranda
then, did they?" she asked.

"No, no, they didn't," Apis replied.

"How do you know about it then?"

"I was taught... educated ..."

"Gosh, you are
so
clever," said Eldene, and had the satisfaction of seeing him flush with embarrassment.

Something was wrong. As Stanton kept on walking, he remained perfectly visible in the breaking dawn. By now he should have disappeared into the magical field projected from the ship. There was a clattering of falling stone, and Stanton turned to a rockfall on his left, his heavy pulse-gun drawn and aimed in one smooth motion. In a motion that was even smoother, a figure rose from behind a nearby boulder, took a few fast and silent steps, and pressed the snout of a smaller gun into the back of Stanton's head. Eldene had no time to yell a warning, but now grabbed up the rail-gun abandoned on the floor of the aerofan, and stepped out with it aimed at the newcomer.

"Girl, you better put that down before you hurt someone," said a voice behind her.

Eldene swung round to see Fethan, and felt a surge of joy — then dismay when she saw what had happened to him. Confused, she lowered the weapon and looked back at the drama ahead. It was the agent, Ian Cormac, who had captured their rescuer, and now Eldene was not sure where her loyalties lay. She watched silently as Stanton was disarmed and herded back towards the aerofan. Standing beside her, Apis gently took the rail-gun from her.

"Well, John, seems we've been here before," said Cormac. He glanced to Fethan. "I wondered who that was creeping through the grasses."

"Lellan sent me after you," Fethan replied. "She thought you might need some help."

"What I need is a ship," said Cormac, returning his attention to Stanton. "I can see where it landed but, 'ware shields or not, it certainly isn't there now."

Stanton, with his hands clasped on top of his head, remained stubbornly silent. Eldene noted the complete lack of warmth in Cormac's expression, and feared he was about to pull the trigger. Then abruptly the agent stepped back, holstering his own weapon, then moved around Stanton to face him. Weighing the prisoner's heavy gun in his hand for a moment, he abruptly tossed it to him. Stanton's hand snapped down, caught it and aimed it in one movement. Now Eldene thought it was Cormac's turn to die.

"It's like this, John. You shoot me and everyone dies. If I get up there in a ship, meaning your ship, everyone still has a chance to live. Of course, you can get to that ship yourself, and escape, but I don't think you'll do that."

Stanton abruptly concealed the gun. "Jarv will have taken it to a prearranged spot. We can be there in an hour or so."

Cormac gestured towards the menacing shape of the
Occam Razor
poised in the morning sky like a diseased eye. "Well, let's go before we get seen. Now is
not
the time for that to happen." He turned to Fethan. "Get these two down into the caverns. Calloraptors or not, that'll still be the safest place for a while." He reached out and squeezed Apis's shoulder. "Mika will probably find you, and I think she's going to be pleased about that — we all thought you and Eldene had died."

Eldene wondered if that was the most human emotion the man could ever show. She herself was glad of Fethan's arm across her shoulders, and Apis close at her side, as they watched Cormac and Stanton take the aerofan up into the air, then back along the course of the river. She shivered. It was cold, very cold that morning.

The workshop door was no longer recognizable as such, and Gant threw the grinding machine into the mass of calloraptors that were jammed together in their eagerness to get through. Using their APWs at the lowest setting, Gant and Thorn fired into the winged mass until the creatures did break through, then strategically brought down the ones that would impede the rest. But they still had to keep moving back, and in the little workshop there wasn't room to retreat.

"I'm not dying here in a fucking cupboard!" Thorn yelled.

"Can you make it to the main cavern door up there?" Gant slammed a raptor to the ground with the butt of his weapon, then burnt its head off when it began to rise again.

"I can make it — so long as that pulse-cannon doesn't start up again!"

"Now then!"

Both of them upped the setting on their APWs, and the air thumped with the detonations. Violet fire tore through a wall of alien bodies, and black smoke exploded in every direction. Firing repeatedly they advanced, breaking into the main tunnel, swarming with the calloraptors. Thorn now realized that the pulse-cannon would not start up again, because the creatures had somehow torn it from the wall and smashed it. Firing into the cavern to try and clear a path, Thorn began his painful advance, Gant staying right beside him. They made twenty paces.

Other books

A PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA by J.P. Bowie
She Walks in Shadows by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Paula R. Stiles
Plain Again by Sarah Price
Battlecraft (2006) by Terral, Jack - Seals 03
History of the Jews by Paul Johnson
Loving Spirit by Linda Chapman