Empyrion II: The Siege of Dome (29 page)

The boat pulled away from the wharf. The Dhogs, who had not so much as peeked over a shoulder during the attack, threw the last grain sack aboard and then flung themselves over the rail just as the boat swung into the bay. The last Dhog aboard was Giloon Bogney, who picked himself up and began pounding his men on the back.

“We got it all!” he crowed, grinning through his tangled mat of beard. The water around the boat erupted in steaming geysers as the Nilokerus on the wharf, having scrambled to cover, opened fire once more.

Tvrdy gave his weapon to one of his men and stomped back to Bogney. Towering over the shabby Dhog, he glared down and, with a voice as cold and sharp as ice, said, “Get your men below deck, and stay there with them. I don't want to see any of you until we reach Jamuna.” He walked away, leaving the Dhog with a quickly fading grin on his greasy face.

“Head for that Hageblock,”
said Treet. “If we can outrun them we have a chance.” There were, as near as Treet could count in the dark while running, only eight Invisibles pursuing them. But he had little doubt there would be more soon. Without a word Ernina took off; Treet followed on her heels.

Threl Square was bounded on all sides by a band of tree-lined greenspace. Saecaraz Hageblocks, squat gray slab-and-pillar structures, stood along this border. Treet and Ernina made for the nearest of these, flying over the darkened lawn, darting and dodging in an erratic batflight through the trees.

They reached the block and dashed into the first entrance they came upon. The block was built around a courtyard, and the fugitives fled through the open entry and into the yard. “It's blind!” Treet whispered harshly. There was not another exit to be seen.

“Hurry!” said Ernina. “Over there!” She pointed to a line of doorways facing the courtyard.

They ran across the yard, the footsteps of the Invisibles sounding in the short passage behind them. Ernina slipped into the fourth doorway; Treet followed her, and together they shrank into the shadowed depths. An instant later Invisibles pounded into the courtyard.

The Invisibles spread out and began combing the courtyard, those on the perimeter checking each door as they passed ... the first door ... the second door ...

Treet heard the footsteps outside the doorway next to theirs. Silence. Then the footsteps paused outside their door. Treet held his breath and pressed himself flat against the rough wall, mentally readying himself to fight.

The Invisible stood framed in the doorway. He took a slow step forward.

Treet's hands balled into fists, his heart lunging against his ribs.

The Invisible advanced, and Treet, remembering the pellets in Ernina's pouch, felt at his side. He found the pouch and pulled out a handful of pellets, took a deep breath and held it. Ernina did the same. The Invisible heard the movement and swung around, his weapon arcing toward them. Treet threw himself forward and put his hand into the Invisible's face, crunching the pellets in his fist in the same motion. The Invisible backpedaled, gasped, and then wobbled uncertainly on his feet. Treet kept his hand before the man's face, laid him down, and then tiptoed to the entryway to peer out across the courtyard. There was not an Invisible to be seen. Treet did not linger to analyze the situation, expelling his breath and tasting almonds on his tongue. “This is our chance,” he said. Ernina staggered forward and Treet grabbed her, pulling her forward with him as he raced out into the courtyard once more.

They fled back through the entryway and into the greenspace beyond. Then, step by careful step, they worked their way through the trees and around toward the river once more. But between them and the river stood block upon block of Hage dwellings and, at the center of the main thoroughfare, directly ahead, a Nilokerus checkpoint.

“Well, what do we do now?” said Treet. He was tired. The exertion was beginning to tell on him. He felt limp and wrung out. “We can't go that way.”

“We'll have to go around, but keep working toward the river.” She raised a hand to his damp forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay. Lead on,” said Treet as he fell into step.

When they reached the first of the dwelling blocks, Treet gave a quick backward glance to see the dark shapes of Invisibles once again on course behind them. Although he didn't count them, it appeared that the original eight had picked up a few reinforcements along the way. From the way the Invisibles were approaching—slow and deliberate with a lot of side-to-side movement—Treet guessed they had not yet discovered them, but were stalking. “Our friends with the crummy sense of humor are back,” whispered Treet.

He and Ernina ducked into the nearest entrance, a covered gallery leading into the interior of the block. The tunnel curved sharply to the right, and after passing dozens of kraams, each sealed with opaqued unidors, the gallery terminated at a plaza formed by the backs of the Hageblocks. In the center of the plaza, yellow lights blazing, sat another Nilokerus checkpoint.

Treet took one look at the booth, and his heart sank. There were five Nilokerus at attention talking to three Invisibles; each of the Invisibles wore the shimmery black yos of the Mors Ultima. “It doesn't take them long to—”

“Shh!” Ernina said sharply. “Listen.”

In the distance came the pattering of footsteps in the gallery.

“We're in it now,” Treet said. “Trapped.”

“Perhaps we could work our way around the plaza.”

“Not with the men in black out there.”

The footsteps in the tunnel behind them grew louder.

“We've got to do something,” Ernina pointed out.

“How many of those goofballs have you got left?”

“The anesthetic?”

“Yeah, how many?”

Ernina dug into the pouch and brought out a handful. “Not many. Two or three handfuls.”

“That might do it. Give me a handful, and you take the rest.”

“What are you going to do?”

“See if we can burn these bozos three times with one match.”

Treet pointed Ernina back down the tunnel. “Scatter them evenly and then come back here.” She nodded once and hurried away.

Treet crept to the mouth of the gallery and laid down the pellets one-by-one just inside the entrance. Then, stepping through the carefully arranged trap, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the plaza.

Treet proceeded along the side of the Hageblock. To his dismay, none of the Nilokerus or their Mors Ultima helpers saw him. A few steps ahead he saw a stack of metal rods leaning against the wall. Treet put his foot against the stack and shoved. The rods clattered to the ground and rolled.

Treet jumped back and looked surprised. The heads of the Nilokerus swiveled around. The Mors Ultima were already racing toward him. Treet pretended indecision and then flew back to the gallery and disappeared inside. He rounded the curve of the tunnel and nearly collided with Ernina. “Put this on,” she said, thrusting the mask into his hands.

Pulling the mask on, Treet felt his stomach tighten into a hard lump—as if he'd swallowed a cast-iron grapefruit. Either his plan would work or they'd be captured right here. They waited.

There were a few sharp coughs, some gasps and a moan or two, and then silence.

“It worked!” Treet shouted, the mask garbling his voice.

They ran back to the plaza entrance to find bodies sprawled helter-skelter just inside. “Uh oh,” said Treet, “there's one missing.”

Ernina confirmed his body count as she stooped to retrieve several untrampled pellets. “Five Nilokerus and two Invisibles.”

“The other Invisible's still out there someplace.” Treet peered out into the plaza. “I don't see him anywhere.”

“Maybe he went to signal the others.”

“We can only hope.” Treet paused and considered the alternatives and then shrugged. “Well, we can't stay here.”

They picked up two of the Nilokerus weapons and left the tunnel, reaching the other side of the plaza moments later. There was still no sign of the missing Invisible, so they hurried on into the warrens of the Hageblocks, making their way to the river.

The Saecaraz Hageblocks were old and had been allowed to spread over the centuries as kraam was added to kraam and building thrust upon building until they resembled nothing so much as the ancient gypsy ghettos Treet had once visited in old Budapest. Picking their way through the narrow, winding streets and meandering boulevards crowded with kraams and market stalls and kiosks was slow work. Treet felt his strength going; he was lightheaded and woozy.

At one point Ernina stopped beneath a yellow glow globe, turned to him, and placed her fingertips against the side of his throat. “Your pulse is fast.” She gazed deeply into his eyes. “Treet, are you all right?”

“I'm a little tired,” he admitted.

“Here—” The physician reached into her yos and pulled out a flat, puck-shaped biscuit. “Eat this—it'll give you strength.”

Treet raised the biscuit to his mouth and nibbled. It was dry and tasted of herbs. “What is it?”

“It's a stimulant.”

Treet chewed slowly, wishing he had something cold and wet to wash it down. Ernina watched him for a moment and then said, “The river is just beyond here, I think. Saecaraz is very logical—not like Chryse or Rumon—and I've been here often enough on health inspections.”

“And then?”

“There are boats along the waterfront.”

“I wouldn't mind a ride.”

They moved off, and Treet did begin to feel revived. The stimulant worked, but he wondered how long he could keep going. The deeper into the warren they went, the more twisted and convoluted their path became until it seemed as if they were following a meandering creek bed through stone canyons. They passed beneath towering cliffs of jumbled kraams and Hageworks stacked layer upon layer. Whenever there was a choice of direction, Ernina took the route that moved them closer to the river. Winding through the empty byways made Treet think of touring the bombed out shell of a city: any one of a dozen or so Irani-Syrian-Lebanese settlements gutted during the Middle East holocaust of the last century.

But these streets were empty, whereas any other city on Earth, no matter how desolated, literally crawled with life—beggars and scavengers certainly, wandering armies of orphan pickpockets usually, packs of yapping dogs and vermin if nothing else. In Saecaraz at least, the citizens were sealed tightly in their kraams until dawn's early light.

“It sure is empty,” said Treet as they paused at a deserted crossroads to consider the best direction. “I've never seen a city shut down so completely.”

Ernina raised her finger to her lips and looked around.

Treet heard the scuffle of a footfall. It stopped abruptly.

“Our tail is showing,” said Treet.

“The missing Invisible,” replied Ernina. “But the waterfront is just down there.” She pointed through an open archway overgrown with hanging vines, orange in the light of a single globe. A stone pathway angled down through the arch into the darkness beyond.

They struck off for the arch, and the footsteps started again. At the arch Treet paused to listen; the shuffling steps paused, too. Treet ducked under the archway and stepped to the side. Ernina took up a position on the other side, and they waited. Treet did not intend on ambushing the Invisible—he doubted whether he could go hand-to-hand with one even if he were in peak condition, and he was far from being in the best of shape. He merely hoped that by hiding among the hanging vines they could throw the Invisible off their trail long enough to find a boat.

Long moments passed. Then, as Treet was about to risk peering around the corner to see what had become of their tracker, he heard the soft scuffing footfall again, closer. He froze.

The Invisible came through the arch and then hesitated. He stopped and looked around as if perplexed. Treet noticed that the Invisible was a good deal shorter than he was and slighter of build. Also, he wore the banded silver of the Saecaraz.

This was no Invisible. Treet decided to take a chance.

The man was only a step and a half away, and, even granted the element of surprise, Treet nearly lost him.

Treet stepped from his hiding place, and the vines rustled. The Saecaraz turned at the same instant, saw him, and bolted away. Treet stretched after him, snagged the corner of his yos, and held on. The grab yanked the stranger off his feet, and he landed with a thump and a whimper on the pavement where he squirmed, throwing his hands over his head to protect himself.

Ernina ran up and took one look at the Hageman cringing at Treet's feet and said, “Get up!” Her tone was authority itself, and the man jolted as if he'd been struck. But he lowered his hands and peered fearfully up at the two standing over him. A look of recognition lit Ernina's eyes.

Treet saw it and remarked, “You know this clown?”

Ernina bent to help the man to his feet. An expression of relief erased the fear from his pinched face. “I know him,” said Ernina. “It's Nilokerus Subdirector Fertig!”

“I am Fertig,” the
Hageman replied, “but no longer Subdirector.”

“I gather there's a lot of that going around,” offered Treet. “So what are you doing following us?”

“I have been hiding—many days it is now—trying to find the Old Section.” He spread his hands wide. “But I can't find it. There is no entrance in Saecaraz—perhaps at one time, but it no longer exists. I decided to wait and watch for Dhogs to come into Hage and then follow them.”

“You thought we were Dhogs?”

“No.” Fertig shook his head, a wisp of a smile on his lips. “I knew you were not Dhogs, but when I saw the Invisibles chasing you, I guessed Jamrog was up to something. I decided to follow you.”

“Can you get us out of here?”

“It depends on where you are going.”

“Chryse,” explained Ernina. “The entrance to the Old Section is in Chryse on the Jamuna border.” To Fertig's look, she replied, “A physician of many years learns many things; not all concern medicine. Now we will need a boat.”

Fertig shook his head. “An em would be better. Faster.”

“Great! Where can we get one of those?” asked Treet.