Herculean (Cerberus Group Book 1) (31 page)

48

In the course of her language studies, Fiona had become intimately familiar with the Land of the Dead, as imagined by countless Greek and Roman poets, and later figures such as Dante and Milton. There was a fantastical quality to each and every depiction. The poets were not trying to describe something real, but rather the stuff of nightmares. She never would have believed that a place like what was described in those works could actually exist on the surface of the Earth.

And this was only the doorstep of Hell.

Ignoring the warning signs—some of which were printed with the explicit message ‘Danger. Thermal Area. Boiling Water. Unstable Ground. Do Not Enter’ and others that simply depicted cartoon hikers being scalded alive in a steam eruption—Tyndareus, completely encased in his exosuit, led the small group out across the desolate hard pan. The servo motors in the exosuit made faint whirring noises as he moved, but the sound was mostly drowned out by the loud crunch of metal shod feet on the gritty earth. Each step stirred up a cloud of what looked like powdery snow but was actually sulfur dust.

After breaking through a thin crust of ground and sinking knee-deep into the boiling liquid concealed beneath, Tyndareus was a little more tentative about the path he chose, but at no time did he appear daunted by the hostile environment. Safe within the closed environment of the suit, breathing a self-contained air supply, there was not much for him to worry about. With Rohn dragging her along, Fiona had little choice about where to tread, but whenever possible, she tried to follow in Tyndareus’s actual footsteps. If the ground could support the weight of the exosuit, then it could hold her up.

The danger of the ground giving way, however, was only one example of the weird unearthliness of the place. Steam rose from holes and cracks in the ground, then settled to form an eerie fog. There were small pools of water—some clear and dangerously inviting, other exhibiting jeweled hues of red, blue, green and yellow—and lakes of bubbling mud.

The foul air and pervasive heat sapped her energy. Five minutes into the trek, she was ready for a break, but the only thing worse than walking through the hellscape was standing still in it. She looked over her shoulder and located Nurse Wretched. The sneering woman looked even less happy about the situation than Fiona felt, which actually made Fiona feel a little better.

“Hey,” she called out. “Got any water?”

The woman made a face that was even uglier than usual, and gestured to a nearby pool. “Drink up!”

Fiona was about to respond in kind when Rohn jerked her attention forward again. He held out a bottle of water and a Nature Valley granola bar. She muttered her thanks and stuffed the latter item into a back pocket. Then, with some difficulty, since Rohn had not released her left wrist, she got the bottle open and took a lukewarm sip.

Better, but not much.

They arrived at the rock with the Herculean symbol a few minutes later. At Tyndareus’s behest, Fiona examined the inscription, but there was not much to say about it. She stared up at the reflective visor of the exosuit and shrugged. “I told you what it means,” she said. “You won’t find anything.”

The mirrored visage stared back at her. “Your attempts to deceive me are ill-advised, child.”

“I’m not trying to deceive you,” she said, making no effort to hold back her growing frustration. “I just want to get out of here. I’m hot and thirsty, and I have to pee. This is a waste of time.”

Tyndareus continued to regard her for a few more seconds then turned away. “Keep looking. There will be more markers like this.”

He was not wrong. Two more stones with the Herculean mark were discovered, spaced out about half a mile apart in different directions. “I believe I understand the significance of the markers,” Tyndareus announced after surveying the third. “We have found three, each approximately corresponding to a cardinal direction. I believe there is a fourth to be found as well, but we do not need it now. Our destination lies where the lines connecting north and south, and east and west, converge.”

Fiona barely heard him. She was beyond thirst now. The constant heat was not only draining the moisture from her body but breaking down the insulin in her pump. She recognized the early symptoms of dehydration associated with diabetic ketoacidosis. The reek of sulfur had left her nose-blind, but her breath probably reeked of acetone. She needed to get somewhere cool, drink a couple of gallons of water, and change out the insulin in the reservoir, but that was not going to happen unless Tyndareus either found what he was looking for or admitted defeat, and since both seemed pretty unlikely, Fiona resigned herself to the alternative. She would eventually collapse. She might even die.

If that happened…when that happened…the secret would be safe forever. Tyndareus would never be able to open the gates of the Underworld.

The thought brought her a little comfort, until Tyndareus led them down into a dry ravine, which butted up against a rough extrusion of igneous rock. Faintly visible on its weathered surface was another Herculean sigil. Beside the symbol, a large section of the rock face was rougher in texture than the rest. It matched the color of the stone where Alexander’s chisel had left its mark. As she stared at it, Fiona began to see shadowy lines in the stone, like an echo of what had once been written there.

An inscription written in the Mother Tongue.

The letters became more visible, as if her awareness of them was coaxing the ancient writing out of hiding.

“It was here,” Tyndareus said, his voice a mixture of triumph and anger. He whirled around and bent toward Fiona until his visor was almost touching her face. “There was something written here. The Herculean Society removed it. What did it say?”

The letters vanished as though she had imagined them, but her memory of them was perfect. She had seen the same message before, on the walls of the Labyrinth and on the map that had belonged to Queen Hippolyte.

She felt a flicker of defiance as she stared, not at the face of the monstrous Tyndareus but at her own frail and beaten reflection.
It’s almost over now
.

A line from an old Star Trek movie popped into her. The usually cool, reserved Captain Picard, in a rare display of anger, defiant in the face of a Borg invasion. It was probably a quote from Shakespeare or Moby Dick, or maybe the Bible.
Uncle George would know
.

She straightened. “You’re right. It said, ‘This far. No further.’”

A strange noise issued from the helmeted head, then repeated with greater frequency, until Fiona recognized it as laughter. Tyndareus pulled back, rising to his full height. He began slamming his armored fist into the Herculean symbol. The pistonlike assault pulverized the distinctive sigil, but the rock itself was unyielding.

This far. No further
.

That should have been the end of it, but Tyndareus abruptly broke off his temper tantrum and whirled toward the open end of the ravine, where a group of his men were advancing, escorting someone. Two someones: Gallo and Kenner.

Fiona began crying, but whether they were tears of joy or despair, she did not know.

49

Kenner was unusually quiet as they trekked across the basin. Gallo was grateful for the silence at first, but after a while it began to unnerve her. She had expected him to continue professing his sincerity, offering flimsy rationalizations for his earlier misdeeds, but he hardly spoke at all.

George was right. I shouldn’t have trusted him
. She glanced over her shoulder at the harsh landscape through which they had been walking. Pierce and the others were back there somewhere, following, but there was no sign of them.

I should turn back. Right now. This was a bad idea
.

Perhaps sensing her anxiety, Kenner chose that moment to break his silence. “It’s going to be all right, Augustina. We’ll get Fiona away from him.”

She scrutinized his optimistic smile. “How did you get mixed up with him in the first place, Liam?”

Kenner ducked his head in embarrassment. “What answer won’t make me sound like a complete arse? I did it for the money? Fame? The chance to discover something amazing? A little bit of all of those, I suppose.

“It didn’t seem like I was doing anything wrong at first. Just passing along information about new discoveries. And of course, keeping tabs on George. Mr. Tyndareus was always very interested in him and the Herculean Society. I never thought I would be asked to put other people in danger.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “People I care about.”

He went on before she could respond. “Now, I just want to make things right. You understand, don’t you?”

“Honestly, it won’t be easy. Not after everything you’ve done.”

“I know,” he said, and lapsed back into silence.

Nothing more was said between them, until a few minutes later, Gallo spotted the rear guard of Tyndareus’s group, about a hundred yards away. They were stationed at the edge of a slope, which descended into a ravine. She pulled Kenner behind a clump of vegetation. “Showtime,” she said. “How should we play this?”

“That depends on you, I suppose. Would you rather be my partner or my hostage?”

The question, or perhaps the way Kenner asked it, made Gallo feel uncomfortable, but it was too late to back out now.

Oblivious to her reaction, he plowed ahead. “Since your friends wouldn’t let me have a gun, it might be difficult to convince Tyndareus that you are my prisoner. However, I think it might be even harder to convince him that I won you over. Shall we say that I made threats against Fiona to ensure your compliance?”

“That sounds plausible enough,” Gallo said. “Remember, we just need to get close enough to tell Fiona what’s going on. At the first opportunity, we make a break for it.”

“Of course.” He stood up, putting himself in full view of Tyndareus’s men. He reached out and took hold of her upper arm, dragging her erect. She started to protest the unexpectedly rough treatment, but he cut her off. “Just act your part, Augustina. We have to be convincing, you know.” He raised his free hand and began waving. “Hello! Over here!”

The men in the distance immediately took note and began advancing, their guns at the ready.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask,” Kenner said, without looking at her. “Be honest. Did I ever really have a chance with you?”

Her discomfort intensified into something approaching real distress. “Liam, this is hardly the time.”

He uttered a short, humorless laugh. “I suspected as much.” His grip on her arm became painfully tight, and then without any warning, he started forward, almost yanking her off her feet.

“Liam!” She tried to pull free but his hold was ferocious in its strength. She had to jog just to avoid being dragged. The warning alarms were ringing loudly in her head, but the opportunity to turn and run had already slipped away.

“Stop, Liam. Think about what you’re doing. He’s a monster. You said so yourself.”

Kenner made no reply. The two gunmen broke into a run, reaching them a few seconds later, brandishing their guns and ordering both of them to freeze and raise their hands. Kenner did so, without releasing his hold on Gallo.

“Well done, gents. Now, take me to Mr. Tyndareus. Immediately. This can’t wait.”

The two men regarded him with open suspicion, as did Gallo, but they quickly reached a mutual silent agreement, and circled around behind Kenner and Gallo, motioning for them to move.

Gallo at last managed to pull free of Kenner’s grip. She rubbed her bruised arm, refusing to look at him, though a part of her could not help but wonder if this was all part of the act. If so, Kenner deserved an Academy Award.

And if not?

Before leaving, she had promised to send a signal at the first sign of trouble. Dourado was still watching the feed from the drone, so all Gallo would have to do is start frantically waving her arms, and then Pierce and Lazarus would sweep in, guns blazing, to rescue her.

Kenner knew of that arrangement. If he was truly betraying her now, then he would have taken steps to prevent her from communicating with the others. Perhaps the fact that he had not done so was proof that the abrupt change in his demeanor was just a part of the act.

Even if it was not, she dared not run yet, not until she could tell Fiona what was happening.

The men ushered them down into the ravine, where the rest of the group was waiting. The video feed of the TALOS suit had not truly conveyed how imposing it was. It towered above everyone else, yet moved with a natural smoothness that belied its mechanical nature. She looked past the armored suit and spotted Fiona, leaning against a rock wall behind the group, weeping openly.

Gallo burst forward, disregarding any perceived or actual threat from her captors, and ran to Fiona. It had been days since she’d last seen the young woman. The physical ordeal of captivity had taken its toll, but she rallied and threw her arms around Gallo. “Aunt Gus. I’m so glad to see you.”

Gallo returned the embrace. Her first impulse was simply to offer comfort, but empty words were the last thing Fiona needed right now. “Listen to me,” she whispered. “There’s no time to explain, but when I tell you run, you run. Got it?”

“I don’t think I can.”

At that moment, Tyndareus’s amplified voice issued from speakers on the suit. The microphone also picked up the sound of his ventilator-assisted breathing, which made him sound like a geriatric Darth Vader. “Dr. Kenner. You’ve returned.” There was a note of undisguised suspicion in the voice.

Kenner assumed a contemptuous air. “No thanks to your man there.” He jerked his head in Rohn’s direction and scowled. “He ran like a coward, and left me to die in the jungle.”

“Yet, here you are. And with Dr. Gallo. Very resourceful of you.”

“Not really. If you want the truth of it, I’ve spent the last few days as a guest of Dr. Pierce and the Herculean Society.”

The unexpected admission stunned Gallo. If Kenner was still playing a part, he was way off script. She hugged Fiona again, but before she could repeat her warning, Kenner continued.

“They know everything. That’s how I was able to find you. They’re out there right now, preparing to attack.”

Gallo gasped. “Liam, you son of a bitch!”

Rohn started barking orders to the other men, but Tyndareus raised one armored hand. “And I am to believe they just allowed you to wander out here, with Dr. Gallo as a hostage?”

“Of course not. I convinced them that I was on their side. Not hard to do given who you really are,
Herr Doktor Mengele
.”

“You know this, and yet here you are?”

Kenner shrugged. “What you did in the past does not concern me. What you may accomplish in the future is a different matter entirely.” He stabbed a finger at the rock slab behind Fiona and Gallo. “Beyond that wall lies the greatest discovery in the history of mankind. A mutagen that will allow us to take absolute control of evolution, to rewrite the source code of life. Pierce and his merry little band believe it’s their mission to keep it secret. To hide it from the rest of us. That kind of paternalism disgusts me.” His eyes drifted to Gallo, and he locked stares with her. “Even if I had no other reason to hate him, that would be enough.”

He tore his gaze away and looked at Tyndareus again. “He’ll be here any moment. You really ought to be getting ready for that.”

Electronically enhanced laughter burbled from the TALOS suit. “You’ve made a believer out of me, Dr. Kenner. Vigor, take care of it.”

As Rohn began marshalling his forces to prepare for the imminent attack, Tyndareus spoke again. “Your return is more fortuitous than you may realize, Dr. Kenner. If this is indeed the gate to the Underworld, then it is closed to us. I trust you possess the knowledge to unlock it.”

Kenner stared at the wall for a moment. “No. I’m rather afraid I don’t. But she does.” He pointed at Fiona.

“That’s absurd,” Gallo said. “Leave her out of this, Liam.”

“She’s a genius with ancient languages,” Kenner continued. “She’s the one who figured out how to use the Phaistos Disc to navigate the Labyrinth in Crete. She figured out how to read Queen Hippolyte’s map in less than five minutes.”

He narrowed his gaze on Fiona as if peering into her soul. “There was something else on that map. An inscription in a language I’ve never seen before. Augustina avoided mentioning it, but I think the girl knows how to read it. And I think it contains instructions on how to find a way in.”

Tyndareus turned his bulk around and marched toward Fiona. Although she felt foolish doing so, Gallo stepped in front of the man in the mechanical suit. “Leave her alone.”

“Is he correct?” The sound of Tyndareus’s wheezy voice issuing from the speakers of the metallic behemoth was almost absurdly comical. “Is there an inscription on the map? Something that points to the door to the Underworld?”

“Of course not,” Gallo answered, but then she heard a small voice from behind her.

“Yes.”

Gallo’s heart broke. “Oh, Fi….”

“Yes, there is,” Fiona said, a little louder. “And I know what it says. I might be the only person alive who knows what it says.”

Tyndareus leaned closer, the suit poised like a lion getting ready to pounce. “You can read it? What does it say? Is there a secret door? Can you open it?”

Gallo turned her head, lowering her voice to an urgent whisper. “Fi, don’t help him.”

“Is Uncle George really here?” Fiona asked.

“With friends.”

“Good.” As exhausted and broken as she appeared, there was something indomitable in her smile. “You need to trust me, Aunt Gus. Everything is going to be okay.” She stepped out from behind Gallo. “Yes. I can. But first, you have to let my aunt go.”

Almost before she finished the sentence, one of Tyndareus’s metal gauntlets shot out and wrapped around Gallo’s throat. Both her hands shot up, but the mechanically assisted grip was unbreakable. She felt the pressure increase and heard her vertebrae popping as he lifted her off the ground. She managed to wrap both hands around his wrist so that her neck was not bearing the entire weight of her body, but she knew it was a losing battle. In a moment, she would pass out, and then her neck would snap.

“If you do not open it,” Tyndareus countered, “she will die.”

There was a rushing sound in Gallo’s head, and bright spots began to swim in front of her eyes. But through the haze, she heard Fiona’s response, loud and clear. “Screw you. Let her go, or you’ll never get in there.”

The pressure at Gallo’s throat disappeared as suddenly as it had come, and she dropped like a sack of potatoes. She coughed and gasped, but any sense of relief she might have felt was dampened by the knowledge that Fiona had just made a deal with the devil to save her life.

“Open it!” Tyndareus roared.

“Don’t do it, Fi,” Gallo croaked.

“Get out of here, Aunt Gus. You don’t want to be anywhere near here when this opens.”

Still struggling to draw breath, Gallo pushed herself up on all fours. “I appreciate the offer,” she coughed, “but I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Fiona gave her a sad but strangely satisfied nod. Then she turned to the wall and began to speak.