Alien Enigma (28 page)

The light grew brighter as he walked. Periodically other tunnels, all with flat floors and rounded walls and ceiling, crossed his path. Fearful of losing his way he continued straight ahead. There was light enough to see his thumb so he could time himself. He decided on no more than a half hour before starting back, figuring the flood might be abating by then. Ten more minutes of cautious walking without seeing either a Worm or robot made him decide to stop and think for a moment. After a moment he heard a faint noise.
Tcht tcht tcht
and then he had it. He was near, probably right beneath, the city's main defense against air or space attack. The noise was the sound of the daily test of the big laser cannon. He went a little farther to verify it. The noise grew louder. Abruptly he stopped. The tunnel he was in had come to a dead end. But surely it wouldn't end just like that?

He looked around. The tunnel had been lighted all the way by the squares of reddish light, as had the side paths. He looked up. A light there was bisected, leaving only half of it showing. That must mean there was something on the other side. He checked his thumb again. There was little time left to explore and he was still wondering why he hadn't seen any moving thing on his journey, neither alien nor robot nor human. Then it came to him. They must all be busy with repairs to the streets or shoving partitions into place to divert rushing water and cleaning out buildings never designed for this kind of deluge. He might never have this chance again!

He felt around on the wall beside him. It was all smooth metal. In front of him was more of the metal but surely there had to be a way past? He examined it closely and finally found a thin line, beginning at ground level on one side and rising to make a curve higher than his head before descending to the other side to the floor. It had to be a door, but how to open it? One of the robots would probably gain entrance electronically-but how about a Sinchik? How would they get in? He ran his hands around the seam but could find no projections, no indentations, nothing at all but the smooth metal and the faint line of the door.

He backed off and closed his eyes, imagining a Sinchik approaching, its four front appendages free while the rest of them were used for locomotion. Sinchiks frequently used the front appendages to carry things, though. Suppose his imaginary Sinchik was loaded down, what would it do? Use its feet? Maybe. He got down on his hands and knees, still imagining a Sinchik being there. Where would its feet be located on the floor? Not right up against a wall, he thought. He backed away a meter or so and began examining the silvery metal. Nothing on one side of the floor. He moved and peered closely on the other side. And there it was, another line, not even quite as faint as the one indicating an entrance.

He stood up and started to step on the spot, then hesitated. Dare he take the chance? Suppose there were Sinchiks or robots right on the other side? Well, he'd come this far. Deliberately he stepped on the demarcation. Nothing happened.
Shit
! No, wait. Sinchiks were heavier than humans, denser. He stamped his foot on the spot. Without a sound the door slid smoothly sideways into a recession. He looked beyond it and almost lost his last meal.

Doug stood confused and horrified. He was staring into a large room. A dozen or so men and women were in there, along with a few children. They sat leaning against the wall or stood or lay haphazardly on the floor. Not one of them paid him any attention. A woman languidly gazed toward him, and she surely should have noticed him, but she merely blinked sluggishly and went on to stare blankly into the distance, perhaps at something beyond his perception. The occupants of the room were varied in age and appearance, although they all had long hair and the men all had beards. Both hair and beards had the appearance of having been raggedly hacked off when it grew so long as to be troublesome.

There was one other thing they all had in common. Growing from the top of each one's head was a black receptor, similar to the ones the robots used for plugging certain types of small instruments into the city's electrical system. Against the far wall he detected a number of cables that ended with the part that plugged into receptors. He knew exactly what they were for. He shuddered. The sight made him ill. The captives were obviously being studied and experimented on to discover the basics of human thinking and behavior. Various portions of their brains were probably subjected to an endless series of graduated stimuli of different types. For what purpose he had no real idea but a horrible suspicion began growing in his mind, perhaps related to the declining population of Sinchiks, but most likely for a more sinister purpose. The breeding session with Clemmie took on a whole new meaning now.

Abruptly he realized he should leave even though he would like to cross the room and study the apparatus arranged at a height convenient to the small robots. And he wondered just what might be on the other side of those cables. Nothing good, he knew, but there was no time left to investigate further. He needed to get back before he was missed and report this to the underground. The knowledge needed to be spread around so that if something happened to him, others would know. He turned around but his way out was blocked. The door had slid silently closed behind him while he had been staring at the horrid remains of what had once been normal human beings.

Chapter Twenty: The Devil will get you for being Evil

It is important to have an open mind, but not so open that your head whistles when the wind blows.
Space Navy Strategy Handbook, 2051

Bullet sat with Barbara in the Gymnasium, listening as Major Rambling spoke again of fallen comrades. Before, though, there had been a sense of rightness. The marines had died in combat on planets in battles that had been expected, and where casualties had been expected. This time the fighting had been unexpected, an abrupt brutal clash
inside
the ship. Nor had the deaths been randomly distributed like before. Like a black swath of doom, almost every single marine of the duty squad and backup duty squad died within minutes of each other, and the very few survivors were all wounded. He knew those few would feel lost even after returning to duty with their closest comrades, their friends and sometimes lovers gone forever. There would have to be some reorganization of the platoons now to even out the distribution of marines within the units. Perhaps even some transfers back and forth between companies.

" ...will go on, just as marines always have," the Major said, as if reading his thoughts. "Our comrades fell doing their duty, serving their country, and protecting their ship and the rest of us. Not one of them turned away, not one failed to give that last full devotion to duty that we admire so much in our chosen profession. Let us remember ..."

He felt Barbara squeezing his hand and glanced at her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks but she made no attempt to wipe them away. She sat straight and listened intently, seeming to draw strength from their commander's words, just as he was.

" ...next fight may be an even sterner test but I know that I, and Captain Keane, indeed every person aboard
Doc Travis,
can count on you to ..."

***

Now hear this! Zero gravity in thirty seconds! Attach yourself to a handhold, secure loose objects. Zero gravity in thirty seconds! Mark! Twenty nine, twenty eight ...

The ceremony was ended. The bodies were being cast forth into space, there to spend eternity among the stars or perhaps to fall into the arms of a star after an endless time. It was a fitting resting place, Bullet thought, since they had died while in space.

Neither he nor Barbara had been selected for the honor guard, those few marines in full dress uniform who stood duty at the air lock, but he could imagine it. He had stood in honor for another comrade who had died of wounds received during their first fight after they were back in space. Prayers for the dead would be said while the airlock was pumped full of air then the outer door unlocked by remote control. The remains would fly out on their unimaginably long final orbit among the stars of the galaxy.

"I wish I could have been there," Barbara said quietly. "Jeremiah was a good friend. We went through boot camp together."

"Yeah. I guess its part of the marines, though. We train, we fight, and some of us die."

"Uh huh. And speaking of training, I'll bet the First Sergeant is going to work hell out of us the next couple of days."

"Only two days?"

"That's all that's left before we hit Xanadu, unless I lost one somewhere."

Bullet counted days in his head. "Damn, you're right. Hell, I don't mind, though. Some good hard PT or sims of urban warfare will take our minds off the ones that got it."

"That's the idea. And look for the simulations to be improved now that we know more about the Worms and robots. I bet they're going to be set up to give more emphasis on robots."

"Won't that be fun? Wish we could do it together."

"Huh! Didn't I tell you? No, I guess I forgot during all the confusion with the robots being loose and all. Top had me and the other snipers pull all the heavy caliber rifles on board out of the armory. We have enough extras for everyone who had the familiarization course in basic. And you're one of the select category."

Bullet grinned. "Be damned, we will be together." Then his face fell. "But I never had any sniper training."

"Doesn't matter. The extras are going to be formed into a couple of special strike teams for close-in fighting where there are lots of robots. I don't know for sure, but before I left the session I heard someone suggest shortening the barrels of the older models you guys will be issued for easier handling in close situations." She smiled wickedly. "A robot is a big enough target so even you can't miss."

"The devil will get you for that, Sweetheart."

"Not to worry, Babe. I'm going to be checking out troops on the old Barrett's and I'll show you everything you need to know. Now me, I'll get one of the new M107s. Shit, with those babies, us snipers might not even leave you any robots to kill!"

***

"Cindy, I'll want you along for the Captain's conference. We're going to be getting into a lot of detail and not only do I want you there, Keane does, too," Rambling said after the memorial services were finished and they were walking back toward their offices.

Cindy felt a little tug in the vicinity of her heart at the mention of Keane's name, a frequent occurrence now.
Shit, I've got it bad
, she thought. Aloud she said "Certainly, sir. I take it we're going to be remodeling our concept of how the aliens are organized and how we're going to fight them now?'

"Yes, that and more, but let it go for now." He glanced at his thumb. "You've got time for an hour's rest before you have to get ready. Go get it while you have the chance."

"Yes, sir. I will." She knew she needed the down time, just as he did. They were both behind with Xanadu coming up in two days.

***

Shit!
Doug thought, staring at the metal door.
Now what?
He seemed to be saying that a lot lately. Well, if the blasted thing opened one way on the other side it should do the same on this side, he decided. Again, he got down on hands and knees and examined the floor until he found the same latch, flush with the deck against the wall. He stamped on it and just as before, the door panel slid into its recess. He stepped through and turned to watch as it closed behind him.

He had still seen no sign of robots or Sinchiks but he knew that couldn't last. He began walking back the way he had come, taking long, hurried strides and looking back over his shoulder frequently. He began to feel closed in and quickened his pace until he was moving at a fast trot. He felt his thigh and calf muscles beginning to hurt and burn, making him realize how far beneath the city he had been. It hadn't been quite so noticeable when walking down the sloping tunnel but going back up certainly got his attention. His breath became labored but he kept on, impelled by the fear of being caught where he didn't belong. What if he was captured beneath the city and hooked up like those pitiful people he'd seen?

Finally he recognized the abutment he'd caught while being washed away. The water had gone down considerably. He began working his way back upstream. By this time he was very tired and knew he was going to be later than he'd anticipated arriving at his
Wah
. He hoped Frang wasn't looking for him yet but the fucking Sinchik probably was, unless maybe it had been drawn into repair or cleanup work.

It took some contortion to pull himself up out of the hole in the side street he'd stepped into. It was even bigger now but had few handholds. He struggled with his abused muscles, slipping and falling back then crawling forward again until at last he levered himself back onto level ground. He rolled away from the edge of the hole and gasped for breath. If it had taken even a little more effort he doubted he would have made it. While laying there with his eyes closed and trying to recover enough energy to get to his feet and return to his
Wah
he made a vow that he'd start working out again. He had allowed himself to get a bit out of condition.

"Crap!" he yelled as a forceful kick hit him on the side, adding another bruise to the many he'd already suffered from the buffeting of the raging water. He opened his eyes then got hurriedly to his feet, tiredness forgotten.

Frang was beside him, asking where he'd been. It slapped him to emphasize the question.

"Jah!" he stamped his foot. "I was washed away. I have only now found my way back."

Frang slapped him once more. "Go to your
Wah
. I will have work for you later."

Doug was only too glad to obey. He crept away, holding his injured side, not that he expected any sympathy from a Sinchik. A few minutes later he gratefully collapsed onto his crude bed. He wished he had some kind of medicine for pain but of course that had been used up long ago. Nothing to do but tough it out, just like everyone else. Finally he slept, or passed out from exhaustion. He never decided which. Frang didn't come back that day so perhaps the Sinchik had been tired, too.