The Search for Gram (18 page)

“How are you doing over there, Master Chief?” asked Calvin.

“I’m having a hell of a day, sir,” he replied. “I’m just loving my job. Where else can you go to new universes and get the shit tased out of you?” The sarcasm left his voice as he asked, “How about you, sir? How’s the head?”

“Better,” said Calvin, “but most of the trip here is a blur.”

We’re in some sort of underground prison,” Master Chief related. “All the guards I’ve seen have looked alert. It’s going to be tough to break out of here.”

“Break out?” asked the caliph. “There is no breaking out of here. The only way to leave here is through death.”

“We’ve been in worse dungeons,” said Calvin, “and I guarantee our friends are on the way.”

“They had best hurry,” replied the caliph. “The Efreet are not known for their patience, especially when it comes to torture.”

Yokaze squeezed Corporal Harris’ arm a full second before the Efreet appeared on any of Tanker’s systems. Tanker didn’t know how Yokaze was able to beat the best audio and visual technology the former Alliance had to offer, but he had. He nodded slowly, and Yokaze withdrew to the side of the passageway.

The only warning the Efreet had was a slight whirring sound as Tanker’s M230 chain gun spun up to speed, and then 30 mm rounds tore the group apart. The weapon fired at a rate of over 600 rounds per minute, and Harris walked the shells back and forth across the passage like a fire hose. All the Efreet went down; most in more than one piece. Several were carrying flamecasters, and the tunnel was illuminated by the light of burning fuel as the holding canisters were ruptured.

Harris had only taken one step down the tunnel to confirm the Efreet were dead when the flames found the group’s explosives, and the Terrans were blown backward as they detonated, the shockwave enormous in the confined space.

Even cyborgs aren’t immune to brain trauma, and Harris was momentarily stunned. Lying on his back in the center of the tunnel, he realized his vision was beginning to cloud over.  He forced himself to full awareness, realizing his systems
didn’t
cloud over. He wiped his visual monitors, and they cleared, only to immediately start clouding over again. It took him a second, but then he realized what was happening.

Dirt was falling from the tunnel roof. The ceiling was collapsing.

He rolled over to find Yokaze a little way further back. Lighter, Yokaze had flown further in the explosion. Harris tried to stand up, only to find his right leg was inoperative. He ran a quick diagnostic; one of the drive motors was shot. He wasn’t going anywhere quickly. He got his left leg under him and stood, just as a massive ‘crack!’ resounded through the tunnel as the beam above him split. Reacting without thinking, he put both hands up and braced the beam, pushing it back up into place.

“Yokaze!” he called. “Get up. Quickly!”

The Japanese man was already starting to move; when he heard Harris’ voice, he shook his head and stumbled unsteadily to his feet. His eyes opened wide in shock as he turned to find Harris holding up the ceiling. “What can I do to help?” he asked.

“You can get the hell out of here,” said Harris. “My right leg is shot, and the way the pressure on this is building, my other leg is going to fail in about 10 seconds. Once you’re clear, I’ll follow.
Go!
”

“We do not leave men behind,” said Yokaze.

“You’re not leaving me behind. There’s nothing you can do. Just go, and I’ll follow.”

Yokaze turned and sprinted down to the cross passage. “I’m clear,” he called. “Come on!”

Harris dropped his hands and began hopping down the passageway, leaning on the left side of the tunnel for support. As soon as his hands came down, the timber snapped, and the roof started caving in. The faster he hopped, the faster it seemed to him that the ceiling collapsed behind him. Within four hops, the falling roof had caught up with him; within six he was being buried. There was no seventh, as the roof completely let go, sealing the tunnel.

The tunnel continued to collapse, getting closer and closer to Yokaze. The Japanese man bowed in honor of his fallen comrade and ran to catch up with the platoon; they weren’t getting Harris out from under that much dirt without an excavator.

Caliph’s Retreat, Wendar, Day 2 of the Second Akhet, 15th Dynasty, Year 14

After their capture, the Terrans had been blindfolded and then subjected to two hours of extremely bumpy travel on some sort of electric vehicle. When the vehicle finally stopped, the Terrans were allowed to remove their blindfolds. They had arrived at a clearing in the middle of the forest. In the center was a house, or maybe a castle, surrounded by a 12-foot wall. It was probably a castle, as the wall was manned by a host of maroon-uniformed troops, all of whom were armed and alert. Before the gate closed, the Terrans could see the forest had been cleared at least 100 feet away from the wall to provide a clear field of fire.

The Terrans were ushered into the large sandstone mansion and brought to a small throne room. It had to be a throne room, K-Mart thought, as there was a large, ornate chair at the other end of the room on a small dais. A male Sila in flowing robes sat on the chair, with a well-dressed male standing on either side of him.

Based on the amount of orange braid on his uniform, the trooper that led the Terrans in appeared to be fairly senior. He led them to the dais and said simply, “Bow.”

Seeing no reason not to, the Terrans all bowed as one.

“Thank you very much for coming here to meet me,” said the male in the chair. “I am Khufu, Caliph of Abunar. To my right is Grand Vizier Nefermaat, and to my left is Vizier Kawab.”

“You’re welcome…I guess,” said Rock. “It didn’t appear we had much choice in the matter.”

“Alas, that is true,” agreed the caliph, “for which I am most sorry. Unfortunately, we are going through a period of…difficulties, and my military took you into custody for your own good.”

“Our own good?” asked K-Mart. “What kind of problems are you having?”

“Some of our religious leaders want to return to the ways of old. They see the new technology we are working on as evil, and the arrival of the Efreet as a sign we have offended the gods. They want us to give up all technology and go back to living on farms.”

“That’s ludicrous,” said Chomper. “How could you make that kind of transition?”

“We can’t,” said the caliph. “And yet, more and more of our youth follow those sect leaders every day. I expect they will begin calling for my head soon.”

“We believe this effort is being financed by either the caliphate to the east or to the south of us,” said Grand Vizier Nefermaat; “however, we have not been able to prove anything yet. Both have long desired parts of our caliphate for their own.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” asked Rock.

“I don’t know if there is anything you
can
do to help,” said the caliph. “A display of power would be nice, but I understand your ship is wrecked beyond our ability to repair.”

“That’s true,” agreed Hooty, glaring at Rock. “Unfortunately, it was destroyed when we landed here.”

“It was destroyed bringing back
your
space station,” added Rock, “along with the astronauts the Efreet left there to die.”

“For which we are in your debt,” said the caliph. “However, since you are unable to impress my subjects with your power, it is best if we simply keep you out of sight. That way you remain mysterious. It will only work for a short while, but it is better than nothing.”

Vizier Kawab coughed politely to get the caliph’s attention. “In addition to Grand Vizier Nefermaat, who is responsible for the administration of the caliphate,” the caliph said, “I have a few other viziers who handle certain areas of concern. Vizier Kawab is my Administrator for Other-Worldly Affairs.”

“If my caliph will excuse me for interrupting,” said Kawab, “I believe I have a solution that should work well for everyone involved.”

“Please go ahead,” the caliph urged; “tell me your solution.”

Vizier Kawab bowed. “I believe the best thing for all concerned would be to send the newcomers on a mission across the boundary.”

“What boundary is that?” asked Rock.

“The boundary between our world and yours,” replied Kawab. “Our astronauts told me that you come from across the shroud of the universe; by sending you back to your universe, the caliph can say he has sent you on a mission. This increases his status by appearing to give orders to members of a star-faring race. It will make it harder for his enemies to call for his overthrow.”

“It will also help me,” continued Kawab after a moment. “I know the race on the other side of the boundary just received a large group of prisoners at their holding facility. I am curious as to whether the prisoners might assist us in the coming war.”

“We do not know there will
be
war,” Grand Vizier Nefermaat interrupted.

“There will be war,” replied Kawab. “The only question is who will attack us first. Once one of them does, the other is sure to join. I would rather be prepared with allies than be destroyed.”

“That makes sense,” said Chomper. “You did, however, say there was something in it for everyone. What is in it for us?”

“For you?” asked Kawab. “You get to continue living.”

The lights snapped on, blinding the prisoners, and the sounds of marching boots echoed through the cell block.

“It sounds like the Efreet are back with reinforcements,” noted the caliph. “I’m sorry, but it appears your friends are too late.”

“Just hold on,” said Calvin. “They will come.”

“I implemented a plan for civil disobedience before we left the castle,” said the caliph. “I do not know if it will help, or how much, but I had hoped it would slow the Efreet down and give your troops time to get here. Alas, it appears they will be too late.”

Calvin saw the caliph was correct about the reinforcements. This time there were four of the brown-robed troopers and six of the armored ones with flamecasters accompanying the Efreeti in the black leather. All were armed and looked serious.

The Efreeti in black leather stopped in front of Master Chief’s cell and said something to him.

“The captain wishes to know how long you have been coming here,” translated the caliph, “and who your contacts are.” The Efreeti spoke a little more. “He also believes you speak our language and should understand him on your own. He feels you are trying to hide your crimes by pretending to not understand him.”

“Oh, I understand him, all right,” said Master Chief. “I understand he is a worthless piece of shit that is too scared of me to come in and tell me that to my face.”

“Are you sure you wish me to translate that?” asked the caliph. “Your punishment is sure to be swift and harsh.”

“Yes, I want you to translate it,” said Master Chief. “Word for word.” He repeated what he had said so that the caliph could get it right.

If Master Chief had been hoping for a reaction from the captain, he was disappointed. The Efreeti continued to look at him and said a single word.

One of the brown-robed Efreet stepped forward and fired his taser weapon at Master Chief. Ready for the attack, Master Chief used a downward tae kwon do block, and he knocked one of the metal leads out of the air. The other lead penetrated his leg, but without the first wire, the circuit was incomplete and no current flowed.

With a look of disdain, Master Chief plucked the lead out of his leg and threw it on the floor. “Is that the best—”

Focused on the captain, he didn’t see one of the other brown-robed Efreet move. The Efreeti fired on Master Chief without warning and both leads penetrated. Master Chief fell to the floor as the electricity coursed through his body.

“Sh–, sh–, sh–, shit,” he was able to finally say as he convulsed on the floor of his cell. The electrocution continued for five seconds, then 10.

“Enough!” said Calvin.

The captain looked at Calvin, barking out a question. “He wants to know if you will talk,” the caliph translated.

“Yes, I’ll talk,” said Calvin. The flow of electricity into Master Chief ceased.

“Don’t do it, sir,” gasped Master Chief, as the captain said something to Calvin.

“The captain wishes to know the same things,” said the caliph. “How long you have been coming here and who your contacts are.”

“Tell him I have been coming here for 10 years,” said Calvin, “and those two Efreet are my contacts.” He pointed at two of the Efreet in full armor. As the caliph translated, the two Efreet lost some of their intensity and began to shift their weight from foot to foot.

Both said something, obviously in denial.

“You lie,” came the translated response from the captain. He made a motion with one of his claws, and the trooper restored the electricity flow into Master Chief. Sadistically twisting the dial on the back of his wrist, he increased the intensity, and Master Chief’s struggles grew more violent.

After another 10 seconds, the captain made the claw motion again, and the current was turned off. Master Chief relaxed, breathing heavily.

The captain motioned, and one of the armored troopers opened the door to Master Chief’s cell. Without hesitation, the captain walked over to where Master Chief lay and kicked him in the ribs. “Fuck!” Master Chief yelled.

The captain kicked him again, and Calvin heard one of Master Chief’s ribs snap. This time, Master Chief saw it coming and only a muffled grunt escaped him. Several more kicks followed. Too weak to go on the offensive, Master Chief curled up in a ball, trying to protect himself the best he could. The captain kicked him several more times, but was interrupted by a distant ‘boom,’ that was felt more than heard.

The captain’s head snapped up, and he looked around at his troops to see if any of them knew the cause of the noise. Seeing no recognition, he walked out of the cell and motioned for the armored Efreeti to lock it back up again.

He walked over and said something to Calvin. “I will be back shortly to discuss the issue with you further,” the caliph translated. “It is unlikely both of you foreigners will survive our next conversation.”