Infinite Day (110 page)

Lloyd bent down to stare the creature in the face. “Look, it's an order. If necessary, I will protect you. In other words, I'm going to risk my life for you.”

And you aren't happy about it.

“I am not sure that is true, Sergeant,” Betafor said. “You know the Krallen hate me more than they hate you.”

“Thanks for reminding me. If I'm in a tough spot, I'll know how to divert them.”

Betafor made a sound that clearly conveyed displeasure.

Merral saw that DC was urgently beckoning him over. “Stop arguing, you two. Just go! Call me when you get there.” He slapped Lloyd on the back. “And stay safe!”

As he moved away, he heard Lloyd admonish Betafor. “Let's go, you wretched thing! And any attempt to flee, and you're my first target.”

“I am on your side, Sergeant.”

“Then you've nothing to fear.”

Merral watched them go.
Nothing except the Krallen . . . and everything else.

At the ranch Vero peered out the window of the tower. Far away to the east, the sky was illuminated by strange lightning of red and yellow. He put his hand against the wall and felt again the gently episodic vibration.

My friends are there.

He checked the clock.
Eleven. It is time.

He drew the curtain and walked to the table covered with the bundles of herbs, the flasks, and the pieces of paper with the strange lettering on them.

He sat down and prayed for protection, success, and forgiveness.

“I do this once, as a necessity,” he announced to no one. “To challenge the lord-emperor. To d-distract him from his real peril.”

Vero lit a candle. He divided the herbs and threw them on the flame. A pungent smoke filled the room.

He said aloud the three great words of power. The flame flickered in a breeze that came from nowhere. Around him, the room darkened and the shadows spread out from the corners.

35

T
en minutes after Lloyd and Betafor had left, Merral had a call from the core. He was relieved to see his aide's image on the screen. Lloyd's face was smeared with blood and Krallen fluid was all over his scarred armor, but he was smiling.

“You okay, Sergeant?”

“Mission accomplished, sir. She's safe over here.”

“Any problems?”

“Well, a Krallen pack ambushed us on the bridge.” There was a weary grin. “Used up all my ammo. In the end I had to throw one off by the hind legs and boot another. Quite satisfying in its way.”

“I'm sure.” A deafening rumble came from above, and a faint shower of dust descended. “We're heading over any minute.”

“Look out for Krallen. And, sir, I'd mind that bridge. Nasty drop. Ought to put a warning up.”

“I'll put it on the to-do list. See you soon.”

As the screen powered down, Merral checked around. Only seven people were left now, including Anya, DC, and the glaciologist; all were clutching weapons.

From below the chamber came first one, then another heavy, echoing thud.
The mining device is so close they have given up any attempt at concealment
.

Merral looked at the clock. Five past eleven; less than a quarter of an hour before Amethyst either succeeded or failed. “Lord, let it work!” he prayed, and as he did he was aware that his strength and hope were fading.

Merral looked at the engineer checking the explosive packages. “Ready!” the man mouthed.

A sudden surge of energy struck up against the chamber with such force that for a moment, Merral thought the charges had gone off. He saw the others reach out and brace themselves against furniture or walls.

There was another blow, and the flooring cracked. Dust shot upward.

“Get to the door!” Merral yelled. Another massive hammer blow struck; more dust was blasted upward from a black crack that grew wider as the floor tilted. As everyone moved to the door, more blows were thrown from below and an entire slab of rock began to heave upward.

The noise was a fearsome, chattering roar now, and the entire Circle seemed to be vibrating, with great chips of rock flying upward and bouncing off the walls and ceiling. Merral took the timing switch from the engineer. “Sixty seconds,” the man mouthed, and Merral gestured them all out.

“Once outside,” he shouted, “everyone stay together. There'll be Krallen.”

Merral saw he was alone. He picked up his gun, pressed the red switch on the igniter unit, and ran through the door.

As he slammed the blast doors closed, he caught a glimpse of a gleaming array of metallic blades pushing through the splintering floor and spewing concrete and stone.

Ahead, the six others were waiting for him in a darkness that was slashed every few seconds by sheets of flaming light. The night air was cold and full of the smell of dust and smoke, and the world seemed to echo with raging, pounding noises.

Merral led the party up onto the summit plateau with all the speed he could. There he yelled for them to get down, and they threw themselves onto the cold mud.

Without warning, the ground seemed to rise and shake like a breaking wave. Something punched Merral in the stomach, and from somewhere to his right, a column of white flame flashed upward.
A ventilation shaft.

A roar of noise, loud enough to be a physical force, seemed to grab him and shake him. The ground underneath sank in a cloud of murky dust that nearly suffocated him.

Stupefied by the blast, Merral staggered to his feet.
I must keep on. If Amethyst blows, we ought to be inside. And if it doesn't, we
definitely
ought to be inside
.

He realized he was dazed, but part of being dazed seemed to be the feeling that it didn't matter.

He helped Anya to her feet and began urging on the rest with remote, distant words. DC looked winded, and the glaciologist had to give her support while she caught her breath. As the dust cleared Merral looked up to see the moon, serenely floating above. At its edge was a smear of red.

“Look!” he shouted at Anya and pointed; after a moment it registered, and she nodded. He glanced up so that he could see the time on the datastrip along the upper edge of his helmet: 11:08:23.
Ten minutes.

They walked unsteadily on.

Multiple flashes, almost stroboscopic in their effect, flickered about, and Merral saw in their fragmented light a pair of distorted bodies, covered in dusty blood, lying just before him.

The dead are among us. Poor things.

Without another glance, Merral continued on.
I feel too numb to really grieve.

Over the firing, the explosions, and the crackling of fires he realized he could now hear a new sound. A howling.

Something chipped off a fragment of stone nearby. It hissed past his head and another fragment pinged against his armor, but Merral ignored both.

Together they walked on between the gaunt, silent tubes of the deserted launchers, the smell of propellant still lingering around them. They crossed a messy, shallow double crater with smoldering Krallen fragments nearby, and then they were at the edge of the plateau.

Through the foul-smelling smoke and the billowing dust, Merral looked down at the slender silver and black ribbon of the bridge, a vulnerable and disfigured strut over a chasm in whose depths orange fires raged. On either side, he could see—especially to his right—glimpses of the fiery, broken ground of the battlefield.

In the strangely fluctuating lighting he could see that the bridge had been badly damaged. Soldiers were retreating back across it toward the small open door in the cliff on the far side.

We have no time to lose.

With stumbling steps Merral led his party down a broken stairway, past more destroyed Krallen, to the battered bridge. Below it was a dark gulf whose darkness was pierced by flames, while high above it sailed the silver disk of the full moon.
The Blade has vanished behind the moon.

Merral was aware of a howling close by, and fear penetrated the mournful numbness of his mind.

“Go ahead. Quick!” he said and tugged and pushed the others in front of him. They began to run onto the damaged bridge. As it began to shake underfoot, he could make out, on the far side, the welcoming golden light of the doorway.

As the party reached the first pair of support towers, he saw a large figure step out of the shadows, bearing weapons in both hands. Lloyd.

Sergeant,” Merral cried, “good to see you.” Merral saw Lloyd raising his gun at something behind him. With a dread sense of inevitability, Merral turned around.

Approaching him was a tall figure clad in dull gray armor. He was followed by at least two packs of Krallen that advanced with ordered menace.

“D'Avanos!” Lezaroth boomed.

What do I do?

“Come on, Merral!” Anya tugged at his arm. He looked at her, seeing her face pale and fragile in the moonlight, and was seized with a dreadful pang of loss for all that might have been
.

“No, Anya!” Merral said. “You run.”

In an agonized moment of hesitation, he could see on her face fear and resolve battling it out. “I have to fight.”

The manic, ugly light of an explosion flickered about them. “No! It's an order. Lloyd and I will hold the bridge. There's nothing you can do.
Run
.”

Suddenly the Krallen began bounding past Lezaroth.

“
Run!
”

Even as Merral's finger found the trigger, he knew Anya was fleeing.

He fired round after round, aiming for the gaping mouths and glowing crimson eyes. He was aware of Lloyd standing at his shoulder firing continuously. The sounds and the flashes were devastating. Some of the Krallen spun and tumbled down, but when they did, there were always more to leap over them.

Merral had expected them to attack him or Lloyd. To his surprise, they raced round them to form a tight circle whose circumference was the edge of the bridge.

He felt his gun vibrate a warning, and a round later, it was empty. Merral reached for his sword and glimpsed a grim-faced Lloyd doing the same.

Then ahead of him the Krallen parted, and Lezaroth, his visor open, strode through. His right hand bore a weapon, and he raised it and fired.

Merral heard Lloyd grunt and stagger away. He tottered toward the line of the Krallen, then fell heavily among them. The two nearest creatures bent their muzzles down near him.

Lezaroth snapped his fingers. “You can play with him later.” The Krallen turned their glaring red eyes to Merral.

As his opponent walked slowly toward him, Merral lowered his sword. Lezaroth stopped an arm's length away. The angle of the moon was such that his face was hidden in deep shadow.

“I am here to kill you,” Lezaroth said without emotion. He raised the gun.

Vero was alone in the darkness—a darkness that was not that of the room in the tower but of space itself. In the infinite night that enveloped him, pinpoints of light shone and swung about him. He recognized them as stars.