Dark Light (21 page)

Sierra aimed the shovel at his chest and shoved. The attacker screamed, lost his grip, and fell back onto the floor of the tunnel.

Fontana checked the locater and took a hard left. The shouts and curses of the men faded quickly into the distance behind them.

“WE CAN OUTRUN THEM, RIGHT?” SIERRA ASKED.

She felt strangely, unnaturally calm now that there was a genuine reason to panic. Either her overcharged senses had finally succumbed to the stress and burned out altogether or else being chased by a bunch of guys who wanted to kill you was a sure cure for claustrophobia.

“It will take them a while to regroup back there,” Fontana said. “We should be able to put some distance between us.”

Something about his tone of voice warned her that the situation had improved only moderately in his view. He was driving with a hard efficiency, glancing frequently at the dashboard instruments, pushing the little vehicle to its limits.

Elvis, still perched on the dash, was fully fluffed again and leaning forward excitedly, clearly enjoying this new game of tunnel chasing. Nevertheless, he still had all four eyes open.

She twisted in the seat and looked back. Behind them the branching corridors were empty. “You lost them.”

“Not for long,” Fontana said. “All we can do is stay ahead of them. Their sleds can't move any faster than ours.”

“I thought you knew some tricks for throwing off their locaters.”

“I do, but they aren't guaranteed to work. The real problem is that we haven't got time to make it to the main gate.”

“You said it was only a couple of hours away.”

“We don't have a couple of hours now. I burned a lot of amber getting us through that ultraviolet ghost beam. In less than an hour, I'm going to go out like a de-rezzed light.”

A chill shot down her spine.

“The burn-and-crash thing?” she asked.

“I told you there were some major downsides to melting amber. It's a huge psychic energy drain. Takes time for the body to recover. I'm going to need at least three or four hours of sleep, and I'm not going to have any choice about it when the crash hits.”

She cleared her throat. “I, uh, thought there was a period of increased excitement following a big burn. That adrenaline-testosterone rush business.”

He gripped the wheel. “What do you think is keeping me awake and driving right now?”

She drew a deep breath. “I see. Well, I'm sure I can drive the sled.”

“But can you use an amber-rez coordinator or a compass to find the gate?”

She winced. “No.”

“Remind me to teach you one of these days. Every Guild boss's wife should learn how to navigate underground.”

“I'll be sure to put it on my to-do list.”

“Meanwhile, we haven't got an option; we're going to go into the jungle.”

He glanced at the sled's locator. “There's a gate into the rain forest not far from here. The Riders won't know about it.”

“No offense, but that's what you said about the warehouse exit.”

“This is different,” Fontana said. “This is mine.”

The intensity of his words made her look at him.

“Yours?” she repeated.

“I found it a week after I moved into the mansion. Turns out one of the things dark light is good for is opening gates into the rain forest. I never told anyone that I discovered and opened this particular gate.”

“Not even your friend Ray?”

“Not even Ray.”

He turned a corner so sharply Elvis had to scramble to keep his perch. Sierra seized the grab bar and steadied herself.

“What if they figure out that we went into the jungle?” she asked. “Won't they just use another gate and come looking for us with their locaters?”

“The new locators work fairly well in the catacombs but not in the rain forest. Too much strange psi floating around in there. Plants, trees, animals, ghost rivers, all kinds of things give off energy in there. The only ways to navigate are the old-fashioned ways.”

“By amber compass?”

“And by using the position of the sun and the two moons, if you know how to do it. Most people don't.”

She was stunned. “There's a real sun and a couple of moons in the jungle?”

“No, of course not. They're artificial, created by some kind of alien energy source that we haven't been able to locate. No one knows how the system works, but it seems to do the job. The bottom line is that if we get into the jungle before those guys find us, we'll be safe. We can go to ground while I sleep off the burn.”

She looked down one of the seemingly endless corridors of green and felt the edgy prickle of panic spark inside her again. She tried not to think about the hours of being trapped in a strange jungle that awaited her.

“What's it like in the rain forest?” she asked, unable to help herself.

“Like nothing you've ever seen.”

The quiet wonder in his voice made her turn her head very quickly to look at him.

“You
like
going into the rain forest?”

“Yes. But generally speaking, I prefer to go in under different conditions.”

He checked the instrument panel again, turned sharply into a strangely vaulted chamber, and brought the sled to a halt at what appeared to be a blank quartz wall.

“This is it,” he said. “We can drive through the gate and get the sled out of sight, but we won't be able to take it more than a few feet inside.”

“Why not?”

“You'll see.”

Elvis suddenly seemed to notice that the tunnel chase game had taken a new twist. He muttered enthusiastically and tumbled down from the dashboard. The next thing Sierra knew he was out of the sled, fluttering eagerly toward the chamber wall.

“Elvis, come back here,” she called. “Where are you going? This is no time to run off.”

He gave her a cheerful, chittering response, but he did not dash back to the sled. Instead, as she watched, amazed, a small, dust-bunny-sized section of the wall dissolved. Elvis dashed through the opening and promptly disappeared. The wall shimmered and became solid once again.

“Elvis,”
she cried, horrified. “Where are you?”

The little hole reopened. Elvis popped out, chortling happily at the new game. He scurried back across the floor and up into the sled.

She clutched him. “Please don't do that again.”

“Now, that is very interesting,” Fontana said, suddenly thoughtful.

“What?” she demanded.

“Elvis just opened and closed a jungle gate.”

“Maybe that's where he goes when he disappears occasionally at night. I've always assumed he was out trolling for girlfriends in unsavory dark alleys.”

“Probably out hunting. What better place to hunt than a jungle? Okay, listen closely. I've got just enough power left to open and close a gate large enough for us, but after that, I'm going to be very close to finished.”

Alarmed, she held Elvis very still.

“Finished?” she repeated. “That doesn't sound good.”

“I'll probably be unconscious within minutes. After I go out, you'll be in charge.”

She glanced at the knife on the dashboard. “I should probably tell you that I don't know diddly-squat about surviving in a jungle.”

“The rain forest is fairly safe so long as you don't go stumbling around or try to move after dark. It's an artificially constructed environment, remember? The aliens probably didn't want to fill it full of dangerous critters. As far as we've been able to figure out, the biggest hazards are the ghost rivers.”

“But what about poisonous insects? Snakes? Predators?”

“There aren't many that are dangerous to humans, and those that are tend to avoid us.”

“I have to tell you I'm not sure I can do this,” she whispered.

“You're a Guild boss wife. You can do anything, remember?”

He leaned forward abruptly and kissed her. It was a hard, fast, rough, thoroughly possessive kiss, and it told her just how much sexually charged tension was zapping through him.

He broke off the kiss an instant later. Heat and regret burned in his eyes.

“Sure hate to waste the afterburn like this,” he said. “But we've got priorities here.”

He turned to face the quartz wall. She was still trying to catch her breath when she realized that dark light was once again swirling in the atmosphere. Where was Fontana getting the energy to do this? He had to be pulling on the last of his reserves.

The waves of night fire formed a now-familiar whirlpool in front of the wall. With disconcerting suddenness, a large section of solid quartz seemed to dissolve.

Elvis bounced up and down, delighted that Fontana knew how to play this game, too.

A fantastical scene appeared as the gate opened. She had seen photographs and rez-screen videos of the alien rain forest, but viewing it in person was something else entirely.

Her first impression was of a mass of impossibly verdant foliage. Giant ferns, spectacular palm fronds, and trees choked with vines and leaves loomed in the opening. The hues and intensities varied, but all of the plant life she could see was infused with the unique psi green that characterized virtually everything else the aliens had constructed.

Fontana drove through the opening into the jungle. It was as if they had entered another dimension. Heat, humidity, and the rich smells of a giant greenhouse enveloped them.

“Nothing gets out of here into the tunnels,” Fontana explained. “The gates have some kind of invisible barriers that keep jungle life inside.”

He de-rezzed the sled and turned in the seat. Once again energy pulsed.

Sierra looked back and saw that the tunnel wall had re-formed.

“We're going to have to move fast,” Fontana said. “I've got maybe ten, twelve minutes, max. Grab one of the supply kits in the back. I'll take the other.”

He climbed out of the cab, gripping the edge to steady himself. There were grim lines at the corners of his mouth. His jaw was rigid. She knew that he was operating on willpower alone now, but he seemed to have a lot of that particular commodity. A born leader, she thought. But more than that, a man who protected others. Her intuition rezzed faintly, making her understand that Fontana's only objective now was to see her safe. He would keep going until he accomplished that goal or until he dropped in his tracks.

When he reached into the back of the sled and picked up one of the kits, she saw his knuckles whiten with the effort.

She scrambled out and grabbed the second kit. Turning, she saw that he was already heading into the jungle, moving at a steady slog. Elvis scampered along at his heels. She hurried to catch up.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Where else?” Fontana said. “The secret alien temple of love.”

HE KEPT CHECKING AND DOUBLE-CHECKING THE COMPASS, aware that in his present state of exhaustion it would be all too easy to make a mistake. He had been this way several times in recent weeks, but he knew he couldn't trust himself to recognize the path. Nothing ever looked the same two days in a row in the jungle. New growth was always taking the place of old, altering the landscape. And then there was all the damned psi to contend with. The plants and trees gave off even more energy than quartz, probably because they were living things. The swamp of paranormal waves played tricks on the normal human senses.

His feet felt as if they were made out of solid mag-steel now. It was all he could do to get one thousand-pound boot in front of the other. The effort required to keep his eyes open was painful. The postburn rush was fading fast.

Fortunately, his destination was not far. He pushed through one last web of cascading vines. The alien ruin was there, right where the compass said it should be. Relief nearly overwhelmed him. Sierra would be safe here while he slept off the afterburn.

She came up beside him and halted suddenly, staring in amazement at the strange structure.

“Not a cave,” she whispered, sounding vastly relieved.

“No,” he said.

“I was so afraid it was going to be a cave. This is incredible.”

“I know.”

The ruin was unlike any other that he had ever seen. It was made of quartz but not the usual opaque green variety. Instead, the graceful, circular pavilion was fashioned entirely of a transparent, emerald-tinted stone. Seven clear stone pillars supported the elegantly vaulted, crystal-clear quartz roof. On an earlier visit he had measured the diameter of the transparent floor. Fifteen feet. Plenty of room for both of them.

“You'll be safe here,” he said, aware that he was starting to slur his words. He managed, barely, to haul himself and the emergency kit up onto the transparent floor.

“The clear quartz must have some special properties,” Sierra said, following him. “This place should have been buried by vegetation centuries ago. Instead, it's as clean as the day it was built.”

“Like the tunnels,” he said. He crouched to open the supply kit. “You can leave the pavilion, but don't go out of sight of it. Understand? You won't be able to find your way back.”

“Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere down here without you.”

He pulled out the bedroll. “There's water in the supply kits, but feel free to drink from the stream over there. I tested it.”

“I've heard that all the water that has been found in the jungle so far is safe to drink.”