Ruthless (21 page)

Torrents were gushing from the forward end of a blue-white glacier, extending several miles back until it was lost in the mountain range beyond. A long plain of mud and gravel spotted lightly with patches of snow and ice could be seen. The pyramid sat where the meltwater marsh met the wall of snow and ice, a vast golden shape sitting in the front of the glacier like a giant triangular door. As Blarg looped around over the glacier in search of a landing spot, Johnny saw the other two sides of the pyramid glinting up through the ice, blazing in refracted sunlight to create dancing rainbows and warm colours beneath the glacier. The third face was exposed by the retreating ice, and threw back the light of the sun with a golden glow.

"Is that really
all gold
?" breathed Squid, his face lighting up.

"How will we carry it?" said Wulf, turning to Johnny. It would take a hundred men a hundred years to break it all into chunks suitable for ferrying away. By which time, of course, the galactic price of gold would have fallen through the floor after the market was flooded with such huge amounts. Isaiah was right, the pyramid was worth more where it stood, where its history and its function imparted it with historical, mythical and sentimental value. Even the Boy stared at it for a while and grimaced appreciatively.

"We must keep this secret," said Blarg, reaching up to activate the landing lights.

"
Jah
," said Wulf. "Or others will come to steal it from us."

"I wouldn't worry about it," said Johnny.

Except for Blarg, who was easing the lander down onto a patch of ice, the occupants turned to look at Johnny.

"That star could go any day now," Johnny reminded them. "You don't want to be here when it does."

Blarg set the
China'
s lander down a couple of hundred metres from the
Sherman'
s. Johnny popped the hatch and stepped out into the Kajaani day. His first thought was that it wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be. The cold stung his cheeks, but his suit kept him snug. He took a breath and felt something weird in his nostrils; a sensation as if something had given way, tugging deep inside.

"Aagh," gasped Squid behind him. "My nose. It's freezing the snot in my nose."

"Of course it is," said Wulf, perplexed that this had not occurred to Squid before. "It is water,
jah
? And we are below der freezing point."

Squid tugged and wiped at his nostrils, trying to dispel the sensation. Johnny couldn't resist dragging his forearm across his own nose, wiping an itch that couldn't really be relieved. He pulled his scarf up over his face, leaving only his eyes showing, and made his way down the lander's steps.

The water of the nearby stream was loud, suffused not just with an alien mixture of clicks and rumbles, but also with the sound of countless rocks, boulders and pebbles rolling along in the sway of the powerful current. Not much chance of catching any fish there. If Kajaani had any marine lifeforms, they would be far out at sea where underwater rockfalls would not crush them, deep under the ice, shuffling blindly in the freezing dark.

"Careful," Johnny called back to the others. Preferring the surety of ice to unpredictable boggy ground, Blarg had set them down on a patch of dirty snow. Johnny's boots skidded in search of purchase as he got used to the new surface. Snow floated down all around him, glinting gold from the reflected light of the pyramid.

The wall of ice was several hundred feet high, and yet it only just managed to cover the point of the pyramid. Johnny looked over the smooth metal face for some sign of an entrance, but saw nothing. Sitting near it was the other lander, reminding Johnny to think of some kind of strategy.

"Six of them," he said to Wulf.

"
Jah
," said Wulf. "It will not be so hard, I hope."

"The odds are in our favour," said Squid.

"Nobody try anything stupid," said Johnny. "Remember, you're minions."

Their criminal targets were clambering down from the
Sherman
lander, looking strangely comical in their puffy white suits. Johnny decided that there was no time like the present, and began marching across the snowy ground towards them.

"When do we start shooting?" asked Wulf. Squid and Blarg stood ready, their hands on their holstered guns. Johnny looked up at the huge golden pyramid. Getting closer to the
Sherman
bandits would give him a better chance of springing the surprise.

"Stay here," he called back at Wulf and the others.

Johnny raised his arm in an attempt at a greeting gesture. The leader of the
Sherman
crew peeled away from the group. His environment suit was the same white with yellow marbling, but all the subsidiary clothing - gloves, balaclava, boots - had somehow escaped the snow camouflage treatment.

The man walked out to meet them, politely pulling off three layers of mittens from his right hand. Johnny followed suit, exposing his naked hand to the Kajaani air. So far, so good.

"Hi," said the man, shaking Johnny's hand with a very firm grip. He pulled off his luminous yellow balaclava, taking care not to dislodge his small round glasses. His bald head shone in the golden glow of the pyramid, and he hissed in irritation at the cold.

"I'm Johnny," he said first.

"I'm Tuka," said Dr Malcolm.

"By der gods," breathed Wulf.

"You said it," said Nigel, checking that his balaclava hid his face.

"This is going to be tough," said Blarg.

The Boy looked at them in confusion. Eventually, even he could not resist. "What?" he asked finally.

"That," said Wulf, "is der doctor from Tammerfors, David Malcolm."

Johnny's hand was starting to ache with the cold. He decided not to stand on ceremony and shoved it back into his mitten.

"Yeah, good idea," said Tuka/Malcolm, doing likewise. "It seems okay for about thirty seconds, doesn't it? And then, pow, it's like your skin is being stripped off." He pulled the balaclava back over his stinging ears.

"What have you got?" he said, patting it back into place.

Johnny looked back at his pitiful posse. None of them had much to say to each other, so they simply stood and watched him. "Six men," said Johnny.

"Any from the Ilmarinen job?" he asked.

Johnny tried not to show his complete ignorance. "Nah," he said.

"Sneck it," said Malcolm. "What happened to Nimbus?"

"Ah," said Johnny. "Passenger action."

"He bought it?"

"Yeah."

"Oh well," said Malcolm. "Come on, guys!" he yelled. "Let's get moving." Malcolm started towards the pyramid, beckoning Johnny to go with him.

"I don't know you," he said. "I guess Alnitak's got a fast through-put of people these days. This is all that's left of mine."

Johnny mumbled something, hoping not to be drawn into a statement that would give him away. This was a last-ditch deal, then. Alnitak's men, and those of his sometime ally Tuka, ganging up for one last... something.

"Don't know about you," said Malcolm, "but we had some trouble on the
Sherman
. Captain wanted to be a hero."

"Any left?" said Johnny, keen to know what he would be facing on the
Sherman
.

"Just two of ours on guard. What about you?"

"Enough to keep the passengers under control," said Johnny, hoping he wouldn't be asked for specifics.

"You kill the bird people?" asked Malcolm, in a coldly matter-of-fact voice.

"All dead," said Johnny.

"Good," said Malcolm. "They're screeching sneckwits and they don't pay ransoms. All I've got is muscle." He inclined his head at his men. "You?"

"We lost most of our specialists in the fighting," Johnny lied. "But we've got a pilot, oh, and a Gronk."

Malcolm was unexpectedly impressed. "Fantastic," he said, while Johnny tried to hide his surprise. "That could save us hours, particularly if we've lost Nimbus."

"Why?" Johnny asked. "What's Nimbus got?"

"He didn't tell you?" said Malcolm. "He found this."

The Boy brought up the rear, dawdling in a relentlessly teenage manner. He could not resist glancing up at the huge golden pyramid, squinting into its effulgence. There was something haunting about a glowing, regular shape stuck amid all this brutal natural beauty. The Boy liked it. The Boy wished he had a camera, and wondered if anyone else had brought one. In all his wonderment, the Boy singularly failed to hear the large beast that was sneaking up on him.

Johnny grabbed his Westinghouse as soon as he heard the growl. He spun where he stood, just in time to see a white shape detach itself from the snow on the ground and leap towards the unsuspecting Boy.

Johnny fired twice, seeing twin circles of blood open up in the indistinct shape. The beast's velocity caused it to slam into the Boy, knocking them both to the ground.

The Boy screamed in fear and surprise, knowing only that something with bad breath and claws had landed on him. The snow tiger was still alive, its front claws wrenching great, luminous rents in the outer cloth of the Boy's environment suit. Wulf lifted his Happy Stick in the air, and with a cracking noise, the creature was suddenly silent.

The echoes of Johnny's gunshots still rang around the glacier for a few sustained moments, gaining a metallic, chiming quality as they resounded against the large stretch of nearby metal.

"Thor's pants," said Wulf in annoyance, dropping his bloody hammer onto the snow. The tiger was an impressive looking beast, but he had been forced to wreck its skull. He pulled the dead tiger away from the Boy and helped him to his feet. The Boy trembled like a Gronk on juddermine, spattered with tiger blood, but otherwise unhurt.

Wulf looked down at the creature. Its fur was white with the occasional darker stripe; its skin loose. The tiger had been hungry. Wulf peered around the glacier looking for any signs of other creatures, but there was nothing but the wind-blown snow.

"Nice shooting," said Malcolm, not stopping for a moment.

"What the hell was that?" said Johnny.

"Just a snow tiger," said Malcolm, as if he saw them every day. "Stick together."

The ground here was wetter, warmed by the sun and the latent heat of the pyramid itself. Johnny's boots sank ankle deep in yielding marsh and skidded on patches of unseen ice. Meltwater tumbled from several points where the pyramid face met the glacier wall, snaking across the flat golden surface in large rivulets. A particuarly large water flow spat out from an opening near the base, dropping down across the right of the pyramid and into a large pool several metres across.

"You say it's at a new location?" he said.

"Yes," said Malcolm. "It was originally a couple of miles further north, sitting on a concrete plinth."

"
Jah
," said Wulf, unable to resist. "We have der ice-rivers in my homeland. They can move anything, given time."

Malcolm frowned at the sound of the Scandinavian accent. "Do I know you?" he said to Wulf.

"Er..." said Wulf uneasily, wondering if he had blown it. Johnny tensed, ready to go for his gun.

"
Jah,"
said Wulf. "We met at der hospital." Johnny winced. The last thing he needed was for Wulf to break cover.

"Oh yes," laughed Malcolm happily. "The man with the Gronk. I should have realised. Didn't know you were on the team, sorry!"

Malcolm turned back to the pyramid without another word. Johnny shot Wulf a heated glance and turned to follow. He spared just enough time to check Nigel, whose balaclava was well and truly covering his face, and whose minion identity was still unchallenged. Blarg and Squid were similarly anonymous, their eyes focussed on Johnny, waiting for even the smallest of signals. Only the Gronk was obviously a Gronk, taking a circuitous route to avoid all puddles, and squealing with anguish every time it got its feet wet.

Malcolm stopped at the base of the pyramid, his hands on his hips, staring up at it.

"What now?" Johnny said.

SENSELESS

Malcolm started to take a deep breath, then stopped midway when the freezing air hit his lungs.

"Know who Kulta is?" he asked. Johnny nodded.

"This is his tomb," said Malcolm. "We're going in for the body."

"There's treasure or something?" asked Johnny.

Malcolm laughed. "You'll be well paid," he said. "You can take what you can carry if there's anything in there, but we're not going after any gold or nothing."

"We're not?"

Malcolm shook his head. "The Man wants Kulta himself."

"The corpse?" Johnny was unable to hide his scepticism, but Malcolm nodded.

"Alnitak wants the skull of Kulta. That's the deal."

"Alnitak's here?" Johnny whispered. He glanced back at the
Sherman
lander and wondered if the towering form of Alnitak was sitting in the cockpit right now, his feet resting on the instrument panel, munching on tortilla chips and watching through the window. "

"No," said Malcolm. "Alnitak's... around. He'll contact me when I bring home the bacon." Malcolm saw the look on Johnny's face and smiled. "Guess you're excited about that," he added.

"You have no idea," said Johnny. So this was all some kind of antiques roadshow for a mad crime lord. Time for a change of plan. If this posse was going to lead him all the way to Alnitak, then he was prepared to play along.

The rest of the men were catching up. Johnny saw nine pairs of eyes staring expectantly at him. It took him several seconds to sift his own allies from the general minion population. The Gronk was closer to the pyramid, staying in its shadow where the ice on the ground was thicker and permitted longer slides. Nigel meandered along behind the Gronk staring up at the gleaming golden expanse.

"What now, boss?" an unfamiliar voice asked gruffly.

Malcolm chuckled uneasily. Squid turned away, hopping irritably from foot to foot, folding his arms around himself as if to cradle his cold torso. The Boy looked down and scuffed at a couple of loose rocks, kicking them across the ice.

"There's supposed to be a snecking door," said another minion.

"Where?" asked Johnny.

"In the history books," said the minion, "it says there's a big entrance in the bottom, at the middle."