Chung Kuo - The Marriage Of The Living Dark Part 7

"I think he's going to make it," DeVore said, interrupting him. "I think that whatever we throw at him, he'll walk through it, or round it, or over it Don't you?"

Part of Dublanc agreed. But then, he also knew what Daniel was walking into. And even Daniel would be hard pressed to survive that"A hundred yuan he doesn't," he heard himself say.

"Make it five," DeVore said.

He swallowed, then nodded his head. Five hundred yuan. s.h.i.+t! It would clear him out.

Up on the screen, Daniel moved slowly forward, into the darkness of the nest The dart came whistling out of the dark. Daniel heard it and reacted instinctively, throwing himself to the side, his suit thudding against the tunnel wall.

There was a sharp crack just behind him, but there was no time to look. From that same impenetrable darkness came a clicking and a whistling and a fluttering rush of wings.

Daniel hit the pad on his arm, flooding the tunnel ahead of him with light from the lamp on his helmet.

And felt his stomach fall away ...

Forty, maybe fifty, metres down the tunnel, a seething solid wall of glittering eyes and beaks and claws approached steadily like a great plug of living hostility being pushed up out of the darkness.

And even as he opened fire, Daniel understood. Corruption. He was being tutored in the reality of corruption, of the living darkness that lay behind the light, of the unending physical nightmare of existence. In the end this was all there was. All else was surface. The knowledge seemed to sap his will, even as he sprayed round after round into that advancing ma.s.s.

Daniel stepped back and almost fell, his foot catching against something on the floor behind him. He glanced down, even as his gun emptied and fell silent Aidan was down. The crack he'd heard was the sound of the dart going straight through Aidan's visor. He was dead. Daniel could see that at a glance. The dart had gone straight between Aidan's eyes and embedded itself in his brain.

Daniel looked up, tearing his eyes away from the sight. Just beyond Aidan, framed by the blackness, Ju Dun had crouched, WHITE s.p.a.cE.

his whole face intent, business-like as he fired past Daniel into the advancing mechanoids.

He turned back. That wall of living menace was now no more than fifteen metres distant. He had no bombs, no guns, no rockets to stop them. In a minute, maybe less, they would be overrun.

They could turn and run, of course, and maybe they would be fast enough not to be caught, but he doubted it Besides, the twists and turns of these tunnels were labyrinthine, and who knew what lay back there in the darkness waiting for them? "Ju Dun?" he yelled. "Are you ready?"

"Ready?" The boy laughed. "Ready to die, you mean?" "No. We're going to go through. We're going to see what lies on the other side of that!"

"Then I guess I'm ready."

Daniel reached across and took Aidan's gun. They were almost on him. As he swung the barrel up he almost rammed it into a pincered mouth - the mouth disintegrating in a shower of metal as the gun opened up. And then Daniel was inside that seething ma.s.s, flailing about, his head tucked down, the gun juddering in his arms as he held it to him, trying not to let them rip it from his grasp.

And pain, and pain, and pain ...

"G.o.ds..."

They had never seen the like. There was a silence in the control room that was a silence of shock and awe and... incredulity. All the operators were on their feet now, staring up at the single image that now rilled the bank of screens, while DeVore, unnoticed in their midst, looked down, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

The boy was on the floor of the chamber, on his knees, his head fallen forward, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. His gun lay on the floor beside him, where he'd dropped it Slowly his chest rose and fell, slowly his head came up. His suit was cracked and ripped, and there were smears of blood everywhere, but he was alive. And his eyes, which had witnessed all the horror and come through it, seemed now to see beyond the surface of all things. Not a dozen paces from where he knelt was the Inner Gate, the polished circle of its hatch gleaming softly in the half-light.

As they watched, Ju Dun walked back into the picture and crouched, facing Daniel.

"Are you okay now?"

There was the vaguest of movements from Daniel. His eyes flicked up and met the other's, then glanced aside, looking past him at the Gate. "There's something else," he said quietly. "Some final thing."

Ju Dun straightened, waiting for the other's lead. Daniel gave a little shudder, then, putting his weight on his left hand, pushed himself up off the floor, getting to his feet The right arm hung limply where the tendon had been cut. Daniel had staunched the bleeding and sealed the wound, but the arm could not be used. Not that that mattered now.

"Close," he said, speaking to himself, his voice a throaty whisper. "We must be very close now."

Across from them, positioned some ten metres either side of the Gate, were two tunnels, their dark mouths hike the eye sockets in a skull. Daniel limped across, every movement causing him pain, until he stood at the mouth of the left-hand tunnel. Lifting his visor, he leaned forward slightly, sniffing the air.

Warm earth and engine oil.

For a moment he held himself perfectly still, listening. Then, without a glance at the Gate, he hobbled over to the other tunnel and, standing there, half-crouched, sniffed the air again and listened. There was a faint, yet distinct whirring sound.

Daniel turned his head, looking back at Ju Dun.

Down there, he mouthed, pointing with his good hand.

Back in the control room, Dublanc, seeing Daniel's gesture, looked to DeVore.

"Shall I seal it off?"

DeVore shook his head. "No. Let him find out He ought to have that much satisfaction."

"But he might.. ."

"Destroy it?" DeVore laughed coldly. "Yes, but we can make another." Yes, DeVore thought, returning his attention to the screen, but can we make another Dame]?

Maybe Daniel was the one. Maybe - and it was a big maybe - this was what, unconsciously, he had been looking for.

If he could clone him, if he could somehow use those innate qualities of Daniel's - qualities DeVore was certain he'd find encoded in the boy's DNA - then who knew what he might create?

It was a big if. But he had worked with less before now and succeeded. And after all, it didn't hurt to try.

On the screen, Daniel reached out, steadying himself with his good hand against the curved edge of the tunnel's mouth. And then he stepped inside, hobbling slowly, awkwardly, his right arm hanging limp at his side, weaponless, undaunted, moving down, away from the safety of the Gate. Down, into the darkness at the heart of Eden.

The tunnel dipped sharply, then levelled out again. Where it levelled, three great circular holes had been cut into the ceiling. Daniel stood beneath the first, looking straight up, nodding to himself. Fans.

Air extractor fans. That was the whining sound he'd heard. Glancing at Ju Dun, he walked on. Beyond the fans the air grew warm - uncomfortably so.

And then, suddenly, the tunnel ended. As Ju Dun stepped up alongside him, Daniel felt something scuttle over his boot He looked down, seeing nothing, then looked up, hitting the pad on his chest In the momentary glare of the light he saw it all. The cavern was huge, maybe five hundred metres to a side and fifty metres in height. And against one wall, filling that s.p.a.ce, its top edge crushed against the rock of the cavern's roof, was what looked like a ma.s.sive spider, its corpse-white flesh palpitating visibly. Beside him Ju Dun let out a s.h.i.+vering breath. "Aiya ..." The floor of the cavern was alive. A million tiny spiders crawled and heaved, carrying eggs backward and forward.

Fifty or more teats lined the side of that great monster, and even as they watched, egg after egg was squeezed from those puckered apertures and swiftly carried away.

The light faded and died.

Again Daniel hit the pad. Again the cavern lit up with a sudden, intense glare.

It was a factory, a living factory. The end walls were pocked with holes.

Tunnels, no doubt, that led to nurseries.

Daniel bent down and picked up one of the tiny spiders. It struggled between his fingers, a small, blind thing no more than three centimetres long, a tiny blue pupa clutched between its legs.

He made to put the thing down, then noticed the marking on the egg. Bringing up the magnification on his visor lenses, he studied it, then, with a tiny shudder, threw it from him.

A face. The marking was a tiny face.

He looked about him, noting how many different kinds of eggs the tiny creatures carried, then looked across once more at the bloated mother. Here it was, then. This ugliness. This meaninglessness at the centre of everything.

Daniel held his hand to his chest, maintaining the light, staring across at the corpse-pale monstrosity that filled the far side of the cavern. Was this the truth, then - this vision of blind process, this breeder of nullities? Or was it really the aberration he felt it was? The floor heaved with tiny dark shapes carrying off the eggs. And on each egg a face. The same face, endlessly duplicated. DeVore's ... "What do you want to do?"

Daniel turned, surprised to find Ju Dun there. For a moment he had completely forgotten him.

"Do?"

Ju Dun smiled. "I've one grenade and a dozen rounds. It might not be enough, but..."

Daniel shook his head. He did not need to destroy it Seeing it was enough. And even if he died now, at least he understood.

This was how DeVore saw things. He had suspected as much, but now he knew. Knew beyond all doubt.

Something buzzed over his head. A probe. Daniel stared at it a moment, then nodded to himself.

Understanding was a seed. A seed to be carried from this place of nullity and nurtured. A seed. To be tended and watered.

He looked back at Ju Dun and smiled. "Okay. Lef s go."

PART TWO - AUTUMN 2240.

the Six secret teachings.

"The eye values clarity, the ear values sharpness, the mind values wisdom. If you look with the eyes ofM Under Heaven, there is nothing you will not see. If you listen with the ears of M. Under Heaven, there is nothing you will not hear. If you think with the minds of All Under Heaven, there is nothing you will not know."

Tai Kung, The Six Secret Teachings [llth century bc]

"It is to be inferred that there exist countless dark bodies dose to the sun - such as we shall never see. This is, between ourselves, a parable; and a moral Psychologist reads the whole starry script only as a Parable and sign-language by means of which many things can be kept secret."

Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good And Evil 1886.

CHAPTER-4.

blood and iron.

Egan sat far back in the great chair, his expression dour, the thumbnail of his right hand poked between his teeth as he thought back over what had happened. Below the broad steps of the dais on which he sat, the stone-flagged floor of the Great Hall of Victory was empty, the colourful banners that lined the ma.s.sive walls - tokens of a dozen victorious campaigns - obscured by heavy shadow. Hours earlier he had ordered all his servants to leave, the lamps in the hall still unlit, the day's business barely begun. Now the daylight slowly drained from the great window behind him with its panoramic view of the ocean. Five years. Was that all it was? A mere five years? Egan sighed heavily, then stood, looking about him at the growing shadows. Five years ago he had returned triumphant from the North-West, the tribes of Was.h.i.+ngton and Oregon subdued, his treasure chests filled with their tribute. To celebrate that triumph he had built this great castle, overlooking the modern high-rise city of Boston: a brutal place of ancient stone and metal, of twisting stairs and high battlements, but also of high-tech trickery and state of the art defences. Declaring himself "King of America", he had set out to subdue those other parts of his great continent that yet stood out against him. A mistake. He knew that now. The old Han had been right, curse him. Yet, at the time ...

Egan took a long breath, then slowly descended the steps. This morning he had returned from the scene of his formertriumph, his tail between his legs, his armies thoroughly humiliated, the whole of the Western seaboard lost to him. Five years ...

"Master?"

He turned. A small wooden door had opened in the wall to his right. From its shadows now stepped a young man - a soldier; one of those who had made the long, tiring journey back with him from the battlefield in Spokane. Like Egan, he was still wearing the battle-soiled fatigues he had first put on four days ago. "What is it, Alan?"

"It is your Chancellor, Master. He has been waiting to see you this past hour." "Ah ..." For a moment he thought of sending the man away; of making some excuse about tiredness, but he knew it would not do. The lesser men would do as they were told, but Harding was not to be put off. Besides, he had words for Mister Harding; things he wanted to get off his chest. "Give me a moment to compose myself, then send him in. And Alan ..."

"Yes, Master?"

"Get some sleep now, lad. You, at least, can hold your head high." The young man bowed deeply. "Thank you, Master." Then he was gone, the Great Hall empty again.

Egan sighed, then walked over to where the first of the great banners hung. The banners of his enemies. Well, now three of his own banners hung in enemy halls. And how many more before this year dragged to a close?

"How did it come to this?" he murmured. "How in G.o.d's name...?"

"I beg pardon, Master?"

Egan turned. Harding was standing there, at the foot of the steps, his wine-red cloak of office trailing almost to the floor, his grey hair cropped close to his skull. He must have entered the moment the young man left, yet Egan had not heard him. I must watch that, he thought; for with such stealth and silence do a.s.sa.s.sins tread.

BLOOD AND IRON.

He walked across and held out his right hand, letting Harding kneel and kiss the heavy iron ring on the second finger.

"And how are things, Mister Harding?"

Harding straightened up, his grey eyes meeting his Master's. "Things here are well, Master. I came because I've heard disturbing rumours." "Rumours?"

Harding hesitated, as if searching for the best way to couch what he was about to say, then came out with it direct "Word is, our armies have suffered a setback and that our grasp in the West has been weakened." Egan smiled bleakly. He had never liked Harding; had never really trusted him. "The fact is, Mister Harding, our armies have been annihilated. The West is lost."

Harding blinked, as if taking in what had been said, then laughed, as if Egan had made a joke. "Oh, very dry, Master. Very droll." Egan stared at him. Didn't he know? Hadn't his spies told him yet? Or did he - as was far more likely - know precisely what had happened? If so, was he here to gloat? To indulge in a little schadenfreude at Egan's expense? "There's nothing droll about it, Mister Harding. I'm talking about a million men dead, four times that number taken prisoner. We have lost the West" Again Harding blinked; yet there was no real shock there, as one might have expected. "Then ..."

Egan looked past the man, focusing on the great gold and black banner that hung over the facing arch. "You are my chief advisor, Mister Harding, so advise me. Tell me what I should do."

"Do?"

"The G.o.ds help us!" He turned away, suddenly angry with the man; all of the frustration and disappointment he had been feeling these past twenty-four hours spilling from him. "Yes, Mister Harding. Advice?' "But what can I say?"Egan turned back, his face dark. "You could start by apologising."

Harding gave a laugh of disbelief. "Apologise? For what?" "For counselling war against the Californians, when war was clearly not the best of options."

Harding shook his head, astonished. "But that was your decision!" "Mine?" Egan laughed. "And my Counsellors said nothing, I take it? When the matter was discussed, you did not rush to oppose such a course. Indeed, if I remember things correctly, you practically urged me to take action!" "We but supported you."