Prometheus Road (26 page)

“The master is back from the dead,” Lebowski said with a wink.

Tom eyed the hooded figure suspiciously. “You could say that.”

Rose snorted. “You’re lucky that your head didn’t snap off when you rode out on the mag-lev rail. That kind of acceleration can kill you if you’re not prepared. I don’t know how she managed it, but Frida hauled your unconscious body out of the tunnel and hid you until we arrived.”

Helix suddenly took off growling to chase an antelope ground squirrel, his paws slipping across the polished rock when he tried to negotiate a sharp turn behind one of the statues.

Too much had happened while Tom had been “dreaming.” Remembering where he’d last seen Lebowski, he frowned in confusion. “What happened to Hermes?”

Lebowski raised his arms. “We don’t know. Rose found me unconscious in the trench. I had one of my flashbacks while I was fighting Hermes, so I guess he knocked me out.”

“It’s a wonder he didn’t kill you,” Rose said. “You must be lucky.”

“I don’t think lucky is the right word, but I think Hermes left me to chase Tom after he and Frida escaped. He didn’t want to lose the trail.”

Tom had a creepy feeling that made him look over his shoulder. “But you don’t know where Hermes is now?”

Lebowski looked off into the distance. “It’s a safe bet that Hermes figured out we were going to Hoover Dam, because there’s nothing else out here, and he probably went off to get reinforcements. Rose and I didn’t spot him when we followed you from the tunnel, and it’s possible that Frida hid you well enough that he passed you in the desert.”

“Doesn’t he have one of those DNA sniffer things for tracking us?” Tom asked. “Humboldt had one.”

“He may. I don’t know. But I think he would have found you if he had.”

Tom’s attention was drawn to the two winged statues standing atop their tall black pedestals. He wasn’t sure why they were so interesting, but he suspected that he was trying to distract himself from the task at hand. He hated waiting, particularly when he might be waiting for his doom. “I haven’t seen anything like these before. Are they gods?”

“They’re the Winged Figures of the Republic,” Lebowski said. He pointed at the face of one of the bronze figures. “Hansen, the sculptor, wanted to represent the type of man who settled this country and was molded by it. He said that Americans were shaped by the strong winds of the mountains and plains, giving their faces the lean and finely shaped features of eagles. Their eyes show the mental fire, daring, and imagination that crackles like burning coals within the American mind. The heads contain a largeness of spirit and a willingness to assume risks for an ideal.”

Tom had the feeling that Lebowski was reminding him of his duty.

Rose nodded in approval. “I couldn’t have said it better. You sound like one of my art aficionados, Lebowski.”

Turning away from the statues, Tom tried to focus on the present again. “Should we be standing out in the open like this? This is where the nexus is located, right?”

“We’re between satellite passes, and they don’t have any security posted on top of the dam,” Rose said, tipping her head toward the round gray tower of the visitor center, where the main elevator was located. “Some people think of this data center as a holy place, but everyone stays away from it. Right now, we’re waiting for the recon team to tell us when we can enter the dam safely. We have a small army here, and we’re all going in at once. We’ll drop teams off behind us as we go deeper into the dam toward the nexus, and they’ll create diversions as necessary to give us time to work.”

“You sound like you’ve got this carefully planned.”

Rose shrugged. “Some of my people used to work here before the Dominion took over and turned it into their data center. The attack has been planned for a long time—we’ve just never had the opportunity to try it.”

Lebowski patted Tom on the shoulder with a heavy hand. “That’s why you’re here, man. You’re the key to this whole plan. Without you, Telemachus would react too fast, and we wouldn’t have a chance.”

“Can’t we just blow it up from the outside?”

Rose snorted and waved her arms at their surroundings. “Have you looked around? Trying to blow up this dam would be like trying to blow up a mountain with a firecracker. And it’s a monument built by the ancients, so it has a symbolic value, not to mention the problem of where all the water in the lake would go if this dam wasn’t here.”

“I see your point. Do we have any weapons?”

Lebowski tapped the side of his head. “Our brains. Nothing else can help us inside the dam.” He backed away suddenly as Rose pulled an odd-looking “gun” out of her small backpack.

“There’s this, of course,” Rose said, showing the weapon to Tom. Instead of a barrel, the handgun ended in a small bowl, like a little dish antenna. “It’s an EMP gun. It generates an intense electromagnetic pulse that plays havoc with electrical devices, including the kind of equipment we’ll find in the nexus. A long time ago, Magnus smuggled it over to us from the underground museum—it was a present from Sandoval.”

“With any luck, we won’t have to use it,” Lebowski said from ten feet away. “This facility has two weak points—the nexus data center hardware and the hydroelectric generators that provide power to the nexus. Frida has bombs that she’ll set with a timer, and they’ll be much more effective than an EMP gun. The timers on the bombs will give us time to get out before the nexus is destroyed.”

Rose shrugged and put the EMP gun back into her pack. “I like to be prepared.”

Lebowski gasped and suddenly bent over with his arms wrapped around his head. Tom grabbed his shoulder to steady him. “What’s wrong?”

Humming a frantic and discordant tune to himself, Lebowski scrabbled around in the pockets of his robe, then withdrew a small brown cylinder that he held carefully in his shaky hand. Snapping his thumb against the end of the small tube, the end glowed, and Tom smelled the acrid tang from the smoke coiling up into the sky. Lebowski put the tube to his lips and inhaled deeply, then Tom saw an immediate change as Lebowski’s posture relaxed. Seeing Tom’s expression, Lebowski gestured at the smoking tube. “This is Muse. It’s how I keep my head on straight.”

Tom wished he had something he could take to keep his own head on straight. As he thought about what they were about to do deep inside the dam, his hands began to shake, so he crossed his arms to hide his nervousness. He looked at Rose, who had crouched down to scratch Helix’s chest. Helix had his eyes half-closed, staring up into Rose’s face with a true and complete love that would last just as long as she kept scratching him. She didn’t seem at all concerned by Lebowski’s odd behavior.

Lebowski stood ramrod straight and slapped his masked forehead several times with both hands. “I am the musical prophet Lebowski! Hear my words, that ye may know my wisdom in the music of the spheres! The time has come, the walrus said, to sing of many things, of data centers, and Telemachus, and the fearful death of kings!”

Rose stopped scratching Helix and looked up at Tom with a worried expression.

“It’s okay,” Tom told her. “I’ve seen it before. I think it’s temporary.”

Lebowski began to hum a tune. It started out simply, then developed a steady, marching cadence and a majestic tone that made Tom feel confident and optimistic about what they were going to attempt. Looking at Rose, he saw by her pleased expression that she felt the music as well.

Rose put one finger up to her ear and bowed her head, then nodded at them as Frida silently walked up behind Tom. “All clear. They’re ready for us.” She bent over and picked up Helix, who relaxed completely in her arms.

Unaware of Frida’s approach, Tom was startled when she softly placed her hand on his shoulder. “Tom, I have something for you.”

She was close enough that Tom could smell the pleasant fragrance of her hair, and he wanted to inhale as much as possible before she moved away. Who knew what was going to happen in the next few minutes? Best to enjoy the simple pleasures while he still could.

He was even more surprised when she kissed him. Her warm breath whispered “good luck” in his ear, then she darted away across the street toward the visitor center tower. Between Lebowski’s music and Frida’s kiss, he felt happier than he had in days.

Lebowski chuckled. “You make friends quickly.” Finished slapping himself, he now stood calmly with his arms crossed, watching Tom from the depths of his gray hood.

Without a second thought, Tom followed Frida across the street and into the future. “Let’s go!”

THE old gray elevator rattled and wobbled during its controlled plunge down the five-hundred-foot shaft. It would deposit them at the tunnel entrance to the nexus and the Nevada power house. This being the first elevator that Tom had ever experienced, it hadn’t helped his nerves any to feel his stomach rise up into his throat during the rapid descent. He held tight to the silver handrail that ran around the elevator at waist level, wishing the ride would end before his lunch came back up to join them. With a small whimper, Helix sat shaking between Tom’s feet, looking up at him with an expression that asked what he had done wrong to be tormented this way. Still clutching the handrail with one hand, Tom lowered himself along the wall far enough that he could scratch Helix behind the ears.

That was when the elevator came to a sudden stop, knocking all of them to the floor except for Lebowski.

“I thought that was going too smoothly,” Rose commented, rubbing her forehead where she had bumped it on the floor. Helix walked over and licked her face.

“The entry team said the shaft was clear,” Frida grumbled.

Lebowski shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. “Telemachus knows we’re here.” He placed one foot on the handrail and levered himself up to the ceiling to push open the roof access panel.

“Where are you going?” Tom asked. Even though he couldn’t see it, he imagined the long drop beneath their feet as he stood up. Rose and Frida sat up with their backs against the wall.

“Out for a walk,” Lebowski said. “You stay there, and I’ll be right back.” He pulled his body up through the hatch into the darkness above the elevator car.

Tom frowned and looked at the two women. “How do people get out of stuck elevators?”

“They don’t,” said Rose, rooting around in her backpack until she removed a coil of what appeared to be fine black thread. “Unless they have a spider line with them.”

“We can’t send Tom down a spider line,” Frida said. “We need him. What if he fell?”

“What if we rot here in this elevator until Hermes shows up?” Rose asked, glaring at Frida.

“What if you go while we wait here?”

“You’re the one with the explosives. Why don’t you go? Are you trying to get some quiet time with Tom?”

Lebowski poked his head down through the roof hatch. His masked face hid any expression he might have had. “Sorry to interrupt. Did I hear you say you had a spider line there?”

Rose held up the coil. “This should be enough. Do you want to go down the shaft with me?”

“There aren’t any exits nearby. From what I can see down the shaft, we’ll have to go all the way to the bottom to get out.”

“If they know we’re here,” Tom said, watching Rose hand the coil to Lebowski, “why don’t they just raise the elevator to the top again and grab us there?”

“Fair question,” Lebowski said. “My guess is they’re waiting for something. Maybe Hermes is on his way and they want to trap us here until he arrives.”

“That’s good,” Frida said with a devilish smile. “It means they’re worried about us. They think we can do some damage to the nexus.”

“If we can get there,” Tom said.

Rose stepped up on the handrail and grabbed Lebowski’s outstretched arm. “We can get there.”

The elevator bounced on its cables as Lebowski hauled Rose up through the hatch to the roof. Then Lebowski looked down through the hatch again. “Give us about ten minutes. If the elevator doesn’t move, Frida can show you how to climb down the spider line. Rose says she’s a master climber.”

Frida snorted.

Tom stared at Lebowski, wishing he could see the man’s face through the gray mask. He remembered the difficult climb up the rope to Magnus’s tree house, and he knew this descent would be much worse. “I can’t say I’m crazy about this idea.”

“We’re all crazy,” Lebowski replied. “That’s why we’re here. It’s just a matter of degree.”

Lebowski’s head vanished into the darkness. Helix flopped over on his back so that Frida could scratch his chest. The elevator shuddered as the weight of two bodies left the roof, and they heard bumping against the elevator walls.

Tom sat down next to Frida and Helix. “I feel like I should be doing something to help.”

“Scratch his tummy,” Frida said.

“I meant them, not Helix.”

“They’ll be fine. Rose practically lives on spider lines, and the big guy looks like he can take care of himself. Your turn is coming soon.”

Tom watched her scratching the dog, who appeared to be smiling, and he was impressed at how relaxed she seemed. “I don’t understand how you can be so calm.”

Frida glanced at him with a slight smile, then returned her gaze to Helix. “I’ve grown up a bit lately. What good does it do to worry? I can’t do anything about the past, and the future isn’t here yet, so I just live in the present and enjoy it. That’s why Rose gave me the name of Frida Kahlo in the naming ceremony, because Frida was a strong woman who overcame her broken body and constant pain to become a great painter.”

“Rose named you?”

“We all give up our former names when we join the Underworld and become shades.”

“What were you called before that?”

She hesitated. “It doesn’t matter. I was a different person then.”

In the small space of the elevator, Tom realized that it had been a long time since his shirt had been washed. Helix didn’t smell too good, either. But the smell that really got his attention was the flowery scent of Frida’s hair, something like jasmine, which he’d noticed earlier. Her face had the same classic features that sculptors had carved in stone and wood for centuries, and her eyes looked deep into his soul. Tom doubted that it was possible for Frida to sweat. There was something about her that seemed right, as if he’d known her long enough to be an old friend. He felt that he could trust her, and he admired her strength.

“Have you been with Rose for a long time?”

“Long enough. She rescued me from the rehab facility, just as she rescued most of the other shades. Why?”

“Just curious. By the way, thank you for rescuing me from Hermes in the tunnel.”

Frida shrugged. “There wasn’t any choice. We need you to do something nobody else can do. I couldn’t let Hermes destroy our chance for freedom while I could do something about it. The Dominion has to learn to respect the human race, and you’re the one who’s going to teach them.”

There was something about the lilt in her voice that reminded Tom of home.

The elevator shook, yanking Tom’s thoughts back to the present.

“We should go,” Frida said, rising to her feet with one hand on the rail to steady her. “Sounds like Rose tried to restart the elevator, but it wouldn’t move.”

“Has it been ten minutes already?”

Without answering, Frida popped the surprised Helix into her backpack, then put one foot up on the handrail and launched herself through the ceiling hatch in one graceful movement. Her performance made him feel clumsy. He stood on the handrail and awkwardly lifted himself through the hatch, thinking how nice her legs had looked on her way up.

The top of the elevator was a crowded space of gears, cables, and electrical hardware. Frida put her hand on Tom’s head when he came close to hitting it against the spider line that was almost invisible in the dim light. As he watched, Frida demonstrated that the line was securely looped around an elevator pulley. Gritting his teeth, Tom’s gaze followed the two lines down past the side of the elevator, through the narrow gap between the elevator and the shaft wall, and on down into the darkness. A faint light glowed at the bottom of the shaft. He didn’t bother to look up, worried that his fear of heights might make him dizzy enough to fall. He already felt light-headed at the prospect of climbing down the shaft.

“Ready when you are,” Lebowski yelled.

Tom looked at Frida. “Ready for what?”

Frida quickly clamped a light harness to the line and held it as Tom stepped through the straps. She lifted the harness up his legs and secured it around his waist, handing him a brake that dangled from the line. “If you have a problem, open and close the brake to let yourself down the line in short drops. Otherwise, just hang on while Rose and Lebowski lower you down the shaft.”

“Where will you be?”

“I’ll come down next.”

The line tightened as Lebowski and Rose took up the slack. Trying hard to control his breathing, Tom knelt, then slid over the edge of the roof into the gap between the elevator and the wall. It was a tight fit, but he scraped his way down the wall as they lowered him. With one last look up at Frida, who smiled and waved at him, he commenced his journey down the shaft, keeping his eyes straight ahead on the smooth rock of the shaft wall. He had expected more of a machine oil smell in the air, but detected only the odor of damp rock. The descent itself was simple. As Frida had said, all Tom had to do was hang on and avoid bumping against the walls as he dropped down the shaft in a lazy spiral. He was glad he couldn’t see his surroundings clearly as he listened to the rapid beat of his heart.

Tom was startled when a pair of hands grabbed his legs for a gentle touchdown on the floor. He thanked Rose and stepped out of the harness as Lebowski released one end of the spider line and grabbed the other.

“All set!” Frida yelled. Her voice echoed down the shaft.

Tom helped Lebowski with the spider line, and Frida soon joined them. Helix’s head poked out of the backpack so he could keep an eye on things. Frida hugged Tom when he helped her out of the harness, then darted away to join Rose at the entrance to a horizontal shaft that was 250 feet long and drilled out of the gray rock, lit by bright overhead lights every ten feet. Leaving the spider line behind, Tom and Lebowski joined them in the tunnel and started walking. No one seemed in the mood to talk as they kept their eyes on their objective at the far end of the tunnel where the Nevada wing of the power house held eight huge generators.

Tom began to wonder why there weren’t any automatic defenses to slow their progress when his question was answered. A thick white fog began to stream out of ceiling and wall vents all the way down the tunnel.

“Back! Go back!” Lebowski yelled. When Rose and Frida were too slow to react, Lebowski stepped forward and grabbed their arms to pull them along.

Frida pulled her arm free. “I can’t! I have to set the explosives!”

The fog was already obscuring their vision.

“One way or the other, let’s go!” Rose snapped.

The fog grew more dense, and Tom felt it wrapping around him like a blanket. The air thickened, making it hard to breathe. He wanted to run back to the elevator shaft, but he wouldn’t leave the rest of them behind. Helix whimpered in Frida’s backpack.

Finally, they began to run back toward the elevator shaft, but it was as if they were running in mud. The fog slowed them down, then stopped them completely as it hardened into a soft foam.

“It’s shock foam!” Lebowski sounded like he was yelling under a blanket. “Wrap your arms around your face for breathing room!” He gasped for more air. “Tom! Stronghold!”

Tom couldn’t move his legs. He got his arms around his face moments before the foam congealed around his upper body, trapping him completely. He tried to twist or turn his body, but the foam gently held him locked in place, as strong as steel, leaving him unable to do anything except breathe and think. He wanted to scream, but he was afraid that the foam would find its way into his mouth to swarm down his throat and suffocate him. If the foam hadn’t been supporting him, he might have fallen, because his muscles and joints felt weak. Charged by adrenaline, his heart thumped rapidly as if it were trying to beat its way out of his chest. Blinking, he saw only his forearms and the solid white foam that held them against his face, leaving only a small pocket of air to sustain his life for a few minutes. The foam felt warm against his sweaty body, pressing firmly against his damp clothes, but he also felt a chill that penetrated to his bones, making him shake. He had to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering.

Control. He had to gain control of himself. If he had little air left in his breathing space, he had to conserve it by breathing more slowly. He didn’t know why the Dominion didn’t just put in defenses that would instantly kill intruders, but he assumed it was part of their philosophy to kill only as a last resort. This foam was probably an automated defense, and Telemachus was confident enough that it would work that he didn’t need to intervene. On the other hand, maybe it was just part of the Dominion’s plan to set an example and kill them slowly through suffocation.

Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to think about his imminent death in this foamy trap.

He remembered he had a way out. Magnus had been trapped in the rehab facility, but he protected himself by walking the Road. Dead Man had also warned Tom that he’d have to relax and journey to the Road in difficult situations, and that was why he’d wanted Tom to learn how to meditate. This certainly qualified as a difficult situation. He wished he’d spent more time meditating.

Tom focused on slowing his heart rate, turning his thoughts inward, calming his mind, seeking the way out that he’d traveled before. He tensed his muscles as best he could, then allowed them to relax, sagging into the supporting foam. His eyes rolled back, and he felt a sense of falling through space, drifting on a dark sea, floating like a feather down a bottomless elevator shaft. He thought about Stronghold, and the Road, allowing the images and ideas of those places to drift through his consciousness without concentrating too hard on either place.

Then that odd muscle twitched deep inside his brain. He was free.

ENERGY flowed up through Tom’s legs from the glassy surface of the Road. He was surrounded by a glittering desert of white sand mixed with shiny crystals. Far away on the horizon, he saw the gentle curve of the rainbow bridge rising into the ruby sky. In front of him, two pieces of the sky marked another gate—two columns of clear blood ruby with an enormous oval lens of rose-colored glass floating between them. Beyond the lens, its outlines wavy through the thick glass, stood a two-story white house of the type he’d seen in books, a Victorian from the nineteenth century, its windows framed with open black shutters to admit the light. The house felt like an illusion in this place of heightened reality.