Chung Kuo - The Marriage Of The Living Dark Part 5

Daniel cleared his visor and looked. Three of the bees were feasting on Johann. One of them had speared him straightthrough his visor. Another had landed on his back. As Daniel watched, Johann's visor slowly cleared. His helmet was filled with blood, but Johann was still struggling, drowning in his own blood!

Yet even as Daniel took in the sight, a flash of orange-black filled his own vision. Instinctively, he ducked to one side, bringing up his gun, a satisfying thud telling him he'd connected.

And then he was inside, Aidan and Christian gasping for breath beside him.

"Where's Ju Dun?" he yelled, as Aidan threw himself forward to secure the door. A bee poked its upper body into the s.p.a.ce between the door and the wall, trying to prise its way around the closing door, one eye swivelling, searching the interior. Its mandibles twitched. As Aidan ducked to avoid it there was gunfire -loud in that enclosed s.p.a.ce - and the bee's head was blown away. "I'm here," Ju Dun said from the shadows, lowering his gun.

Daniel looked to Christian. The boy had his head down, his visor still blacked.

He made no sound, but Daniel knew he'd seen what had happened to Johann. Daniel turned. There was a second door, at the back of the room. They would need to secure that, too. Yet even as he stepped toward it, the wooden panels seemed to swell and groan.

Daniel pointed to the heavy wooden table to his right "Ju Dun, help me! Lefs barricade the door."

He had no plan except to survive. To get through a few more precious minutes.

And maybe they'd go away.

Maybe.

The wooden panels of the door bulged again. There was a thud, the flutter of a wing against the roof. Lifting the table, they slammed it against the door. As they did, a solid steel sting rammed its way through both layers of wood, missing Daniel's arm by less than a centimetre, the poisoned tip quivering. Bees. Of all the f.u.c.king luck.

"A hive," Daniel said, turning to look at Aidan. "We must be near a hive."

Bees were patient. They remembered their purpose. Only nightfall would draw them off, but that was half a day away.

And one thing was certain. They would not last half a day. For the bees were relentless. They did not give in until their purpose was achieved. While Daniel paced the room, trying to work out what to do, Aidan made a check on what armaments they had left between the four of them. Christian was slumped against the wall. He had cleared his visor now, but his head was down and he wasn't speaking. Ju Dun, standing close by, was watching him. The young boy frowned, then looked up at Daniel. "We can't stay here," he said, unexpectedly.

Aidan looked round. He frowned, then looked up at Daniel, his eyes querying that "Ju Dun's right," Daniel said. "If we stay our chances are zero. I know them. They'll regroup and attack both doors at once."

"And if we go out, our chances are pretty slim, wouldn't you say?"

Daniel smiled. "So ifs heads we lose ..."

"... and tails we lose." Aidan too was grinning now. He grabbed up his gun then turned to face Christian. "Come on, lad. Grieving's over. Ifs time to get revenge."

The first rocket blew down the door. Christian's flamer took out the dozen or so bees that thought to slip into the gap. Then Ju Dun ran through, spraying bullets right, left and centre. Daniel followed an instant later, picking off anything Ju Dun missed. Aidan, in the doorway, turned, aiming the big rocket launcher up at the main swarm that had lifted and turned toward them, the second rocket exploding in their midst Then they were running, following a straight line to the nearestbuilding two hundred metres away, forcing the bees to adopt a tight formation in pursuit The bees gained on them, step by step. They were almost on them when Daniel called the order and, as one, they turned to face the cloud of angry machines, the four of them in a line and kneeling.

If they were going to die, then they were going to go out in style. Christian's flamer licked the edges of the swarm. Crump-crump-crump went the big rocket launcher.

(My one left, Daniel thought, conscious of Aidan discarding the launcher and opening up with his automatic.

The three explosions punched great holes in the tight-packed swarm. Normally the bees would have spread out more, to lessen the impact of rocket attacks, but Daniel's tactic had forced them into a basic error. More than a quarter of the swarm had been destroyed in those three explosions. Suddenly, the odds had changed.

Now it was a simple bug-shoot. Get them before they get you. And the G.o.ds help the man whose nerve failed.

Christian, beside Daniel, was crying now. Daniel could hear him in his helmet But he was also shooting like a man possessed and between them they were slowly driving back the swarm.

And then, suddenly - miraculously, it seemed - the bees lifted and turned, heading back the way they'd come.

Daniel's mouth was dry as he watched them, wondering if this were only a trick - a tactic to un-man them. To give them hope then s.n.a.t.c.h it away once more. "Hold tight," he said, "they may be re-grouping." But the truth was they were moving farther and farther away and that h.e.l.lish vibration - the great pulse of insect wings that had seemed to fill the air - was also diminis.h.i.+ng, until, a minute later, it was barely audible. The day was suddenly quiet The sun beat down on them.

Slowly the four boys stood.

It was not done with yet. In fact, it was far from over, but they had got this far. And they had survived a swarm.Daniel looked about him, seeing how the others watched him, looking to him now for their lead. "Come on," he said. "The next tap's just north of here. We can be there within the hour."

Dublanc rubbed his eyes, then leaned forward, pressing the pad that lowered the blinds about his gallery office.

"Commandant?"

The voice on the communicator was York's.

'Tes, Captain?" he asked wearily.

"I'm sorry, sir, but what do you want to do?"

Dublanc hesitated, then. "We'll leave things be."

"But, sir ..."

Dublanc brought his hand down, cutting the link, then sat back, closing his eyes. The drugs were wearing off. He would need to take some more if he was to stay awake for the final push.

I could end it now, he thought I could throw every thing I have at them and end it.

And what would that prove? Nothing they didn't already know. He reached down into the second drawer of the desk and took out the box of capsules, shaking two out into his palm then swallowing them down. They'd keep him alert for another twelve hours if necessary. But he would pay for it He always paid.

None of his men knew just how much nervous energy he expended on these runs. They thought him indifferent to it all - a cold, maybe even callous, man - and he did his best to foster that illusion. But deeper down he paid for that outward lie.

Long ago, he'd had a son. An eight-year-old named Matthew. But Matthew had died in the plague, along with his mother and baby sister, while he - plain Captain Dublanc, back then - had been on duty on an orbital station above it all. Now nothing remained of that former life. Only memories. All else - all physical trace of those he'd loved - had been destroyed on those great pyres which, glimpsed from geostationary orbit high above the City, had seemed to fill the land to either side of the Rhine like sunlight glimmering on the surface of a pond.

Dropping the box back into the drawer, he slid it closed, then opened the top drawer, taking out the file on Daniel.

Like much else that was secret, there was no computer record of this file. Officially it did not even exist And much that had once existed on computer file, had been erased, to be placed here, where enquiring eyes might not see it Dublanc opened the file and quickly flipped through the handwritten pages to the latest entry. Then, taking a pen from the stand nearby, he began to write, setting down his most recent observations.

Here too were the maps of Daniel's past excursions into Eden, bright red ink markings tracing the paths he'd taken, the obstacles he'd faced, the friends he'd lost They were impressive doc.u.ments.

He took them out now and studied them a while, wondering if there was a due to Daniel in the meandering red lines. A pattern. Laying the thin, transparent sheets one upon another, he picked them up, looking at the transposition, but there was no pattern to it Daniel had faced each crossing as if it was the first Or last And this time, well... this was the strangest of them all. He set the maps aside, then took out the last of the sheets in the file It was a sketch he'd done - a picture of Daniel's face, the visor of his helmet back, those deep green eyes staring out And behind him two tiny midge-like cameras. Watching, always watching him.

Everything was here. A list of the books he'd borrowed from the camp library. A list of friends he'd made, transcripts of conversations he'd had, a note of his dietary preferences. But nothing that gave a clue. Nothing that told you about the real Daniel Mussida.

For that real self was locked away somewhere Was buried deep inside his head where no watching camera could see.

Until now.

For something was happening inside the boy. Dublanc could sense it. And sometimes, for the briefest moment, he thought he could even see it, there in his eyes.

A metamorphosis.

Dublanc sighed, then closed the file, rubbing at his eyes once more. It would be a good ten or fifteen minutes before the drugs kicked in. Until they did, he'd lie down and take a moment's rest Real rest, not the chemical variety. He stood and walked across the room, then settled on the long bench-like bed at the back, closing his eyes, knowing that York would wake him if anything happened.

The valley was due north, about two kilometres from the wall. To their left, just above them, was a stand of trees. To their right the ground fell away, until, about five hundred metres distant, it rose again to form a hummock. On top of that was the tap. A platform tap.

There were no buildings here, only rock and scrub and here and there the splintered shape of a tree. The land was rough, untended. Rusting machinery lay everywhere. One could not take a step here without treading on the ruins of past campaigns.

And yet, right now, the valley was deserted, the tap - clearly visible from where they stood - unguarded.

"Flame the slope," Daniel said.

Christian stepped forward and, narrowing the aperture on the flamer, ignited it As the long tongue of the flame licked over the surface of the ground, the others raised their guns, waiting.

Normally the flamer would make any hidden machines fly up, and they would pick them off, but this time the tactic was in vain. It really was deserted. Daniel looked to Aidan, suspicious now. Aidan shrugged, then gestured at his feet Underground. Of course. Thaf s where they were. Sitting down there, waiting. Burrowers, perhaps, or beetles, or ...

He didn't like it The situation made his skin crawl. If he could, he would have turned right round and headed for the tap to the east, but they couldn't do that They were on low charge as it was. They needed this tap.

Only Daniel wasn't sure they could take the tap - not against stiff opposition. There were only four of them now, and though he knew what good fighters they were, it took only a moment's inattention and the odds against them would be shortened dramatically.

No choice, he thought, excusing himself. But it didn't make him feel any better. "Okay," he said. "If they're going to come from anywhere, they'll come from underfoot So watch out And move quickly. Right?" Without another word Daniel set off, jogging down the charred and steaming slope towards the tap, his armour feeling heavy now, unwieldy.

Every time he set his foot down, he expected something to happen. At every moment he expected the ground to explode in a fury of dark, snapping forms, but nothing... still there was nothing.

His heart was in his mouth. There was a pain of expectation in his gut that was indescribable. Behind him, the others tried their best to keep up with him, their heavy armour squeaking and rattling, the grunt of each breath they took sounding loudly in Daniel's helmet.

Ahead of him the hillock rose up, blocking his view. Slowing he began to climb it, the second finger of his right hand aching now from where he'd held it tight against the wire-fine trigger. Come on you little b.a.s.t.a.r.ds! Show yourselves! He climbed up, onto the solid base that surrounded the tap. A moment later Aidan joined him there, quickly followed by Ju Dun and Christian. They were all gasping for breath.

For a moment they simply stood there, their guns raised, scanning the empty valley for some sign of life, but there was stiH nothing. "What the f.u.c.k's going on?" Aidan asked, giving a tiny incredulous laugh.

"Doesn't it work?"

Daniel whirled about, thinking that maybe Aidan had hit upon it, but the tap was working. As he brushed his fingers against one of the metallic teats it gave him a tiny shock.

"We are still in Eden?" Christian asked. "We didn't..." "Charge the guns," Daniel said, with an uncharacteristic impatience. This emptiness - this lack of opposition - worried him more than anything he'd come across, for he knew it was not a chance thing. The mechanoids were not evenly spread, he knew that, but there were not - as far as he knew - whole valleys without any such life, and there wasn't a tap that didn't have a thousand or more of the little b.u.g.g.e.rs crawling all over it So where were they? And why were they holding off? As Ju Dun and Christian charged the guns, he and Aidan kept watch.

"Spooky," Aidan said after a moment "Give me something to shoot at every time." Daniel nodded, knowing exactly what Aidan meant He didn't mind the fighting, it was the waiting that got to him. When you were fighting you could forget and let another, more ancient, part of the brain take over, but this ... This was sheer torture.

There was the faintest vibration, deep down.

The swarm?

Daniel listened. No. It was not in the air, it was in the earth.

Aidan too had noticed it and was looking down.

"Are you almost finished?" Daniel asked, not daring to turn his back and look.

"Almost," Ju Dun answered. "Two more guns, thaf s all."

A minute, then, at most

Daniel swallowed. The vibration had become a steady shaking. Clods of earth were jiggling up and down on the slope just beneath them. The whole of the platform was resounding now like a struck gong.

As Ju Dun s.n.a.t.c.hed the gun from the charge-nipple and turned, the whole of the bank just in front of them seemed to rear up, changing from black to red in an instant.

Daniel blinked, his mind not taking in what had happened. Then he understood. Ants. Red ants. Millions of the little f.u.c.kers. Not big, like the rest of the mechanoids, but tiny.

"Oh, s.h.i.+t..."Christian's flamer roared momentarily, taking out the first wave of ants, but even as he went to spray them a second time, the fuel feed stuttered and went out.

Daniel turned and looked Ants were all over Christian's back They had chewed through the feed line. And in a moment...

He gave the order almost without thinking, knowing how much of a risk it was, and knowing that there was nothing -absolutely nothing - else he could do. "Seal!"

And as the word died in his throat, he depressed the b.u.t.ton on his chest and the world outside went white.

Daniel woke with a continuous high-pitched whine in his head. All about him piles of the ants lay inert where the sonic light-stunner had gone off. He lifted his head a fraction. "Aidan?"

There was a faint groan on Aidan's channel.

"Ju Dun?"

The answer came back crisply. "Here!"

Daniel couldn't see from where he lay, but he knew, without having to look, that Ju Dun was already on his feet "Christian?"

There was a moment's silence, then Ju Dun answered. "He's dead. His suit cracked."

Daniel pulled himself up slowly, feeling as if someone had glued all of his limbs very loosely to his torso. He could still feel the shock wave in his bones. The same shock wave that had destroyed the sensitive mechanisms of the ants.

Turning, he saw at once what Ju Dun meant Christian lay there, a great jagged rent in the back of his armour. And where his flesh had been exposed, it had a transparent, almost jellied bloodiness.

For the best, perhaps, he thought, wondering how, even if Christian had survived the journey across Eden, he would have survived living without his soul-mate Johann.

But he didn't give in. Not even after Johann's death. He grieved and then got on with it.

WHITE s.p.a.cE.