Labyrinth of Night (35 page)

L’Enfant seemed to have something in mind; he was getting desperate, and that desperation was making him relentless and reckless. Would another person be dragged into the storeroom if Verduin refused to go forth? Verduin doubted that he himself would be tortured—L’Enfant needed him to pilot the MRV—but what about the others? Shin-ichi? He could never survive the ordeal Nash had been through. Boggs? They might spare him because they needed him to fly the
Akron…
but what about Tamara, or Miho?

Verduin shook his head. No, he couldn’t let that happen.

And, he had to admit to himself, he
did
want to discover what was down there…and there was no better chance than now to find out. He had the MRV, he had the skill, and he had been in Mama’s Back Door before, albeit in a remote sense. If he could make it into the catacombs, discover the secrets of the aliens…

‘I’m ready,’ he said.

There was a short pause on the comlink before Isralilova returned to him.
‘All right, Paul. We concur.’
Her voice held a nervous quaver.
‘Ah…can you please switch on your internal video? For the…’

She didn’t finish her comment, but Verduin knew what she meant to say. ‘For the record’—in case he didn’t come back. He stabbed another button on the communications board, then looked straight up at the little TV lens directly above his head. He grinned and waggled his fingers at the camera, hoping that it would make her feel better.

As he did so, though, a dark thought involuntarily crossed his mind: they’ll remember me like this…

There was a long silence inside the cramped monitor center when everyone saw Verduin waving at the camera. Kawakami stoically gazed at the screen. Isralilova switched off her mike and looked away from her console and everyone else, a quiet sob escaping from her mouth before she covered it with her hand. Boggs pursed his lips together in a rare frown and pretended to study the toes of his boots. Next to him, Sasaki’s face remained stolid, her back stiffly erect but her hands nervously curled into tight fists at her side. Boggs hesitated, then comfortingly placed his hand on her shoulder: Miho flinched at his touch, but didn’t move away.

From his position behind Kawakami’s chair, Nash noticed all this, but kept his attention focused primarily on Terrance L’Enfant. The commander, perched on a metal stool behind and between Isralilova and Kawakami, seemed unmoved by Verduin’s gesture. Implacably silent, his narrow gaze darted from screen to screen, intent on every detail, as he absently stroked his mustache between his fingers. Nash observed that there were dark circles under his eyes; it didn’t look as if the commander had slept well, if at all. At the far end of the module Marks stood like a sentry next to the closed hatch, his eyes never straying far from Nash.

On another TV monitor, the POV from the Jackalope’s forward camera showed the vehicle slowly lumbering closer to the pit. The big machine, as cumbersome as it looked, seemed remarkably well-suited for the Martian terrain; after a moment of hesitation, Verduin stepped over a boulder which a rover would have been forced to drive around. In the background, they could see Akers hop-skipping toward the tripod-and-wrench arrangement above the pit.

L’Enfant touched the lobe of his headset mike.
‘Make certain the grapples are well-secured so that they won’t slip off, Lieutenant,’
he instructed Akers,
‘and give him plenty of slack on the cable once he’s down.’
His voice held an unaccustomed rasp.
‘We’re going to need to be able to get him out of there in a hurry if we have to.’

There was a firm double-knock on the hatch; Marks opened it to let Swigart inside. She quickly walked to L’Enfant, wordlessly handed him a folded sheet of computer printout, then turned and strode back out of the monitor center, returning to her post in the command module. L’Enfant unfolded the sheet and studied it for a few moments, rubbing at his eyelids, then handed it over his shoulder to Boggs, scarcely glancing in his direction.

‘Current nowcast says that the dust storm is at fifty-two degrees west,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘The leading edge has just crossed into the Acidalia Planitia and it’s expected to pick up speed as it moves across the hemisphere.’

Boggs grunted as he skimmed the nowcast. ‘The new ETA is at twelve-hundred hours tomorrow. Shit.’ He crumpled the paper in his fist and looked at Nash. ‘Change of plan. If we’re going to beat the sucker, we’re going to have to be out of here by at least oh-dark-one-hundred tomorrow. Maybe sooner.’

Nash looked back at the airship pilot, then slowly shook his head. Despite the repairs made by the clinical nanosurgeons to his bruises, he still ached from the beating he’d been given. He edged closer to L’Enfant; seeing this, Marks’ hands moved toward his rifle as Nash bent over the commander.

‘Call it off,’ he murmured to L’Enfant, ignoring Marks entirely. ‘Whatever you’re planning, it’s not going to work before that storm hits us.’

L’Enfant didn’t look away from the consoles. ‘Since you don’t know what I’m planning, seaman, how can you be so certain?’

On the screens, Akers had climbed onto the MRV’s fuselage and was attaching the wrench’s cable-grapples to rungs on either side of the cab. The Jackalope was poised at the edge of the pit, the forward camera peering down into its shadowed, rocky maw. ‘The only thing I’m certain of,’ Nash said softly, ‘is that you’re about to throw away this man’s life. You can wait until…’

‘Mr Nash, you are way out of line.’ L’Enfant still didn’t look at him, but his voice gained a terse edge. ‘If you believe I will sacrifice months of preparation because you think…’

‘No!’ Kawakami snapped. The exobiologist swiveled around in his chair, his normally placid eyes seething with anger as he stared straight at L’Enfant. ‘He is correct. Paul is unprepared for this mission. He barely knows how to handle the MRV. We will stop the sortie now, or I’ll…’

‘You shall
not
tell me what to do!’ L’Enfant shouted.

Everyone in the monitor center was staring at him now, but L’Enfant’s abrupt rage was focused directly upon Kawakami. ‘I have listened to you long enough,’ he continued, his voice now ragged and harsh as he thrust a finger at Kawakami, ‘and I’ve let you drag this mission into the ground! Now
I’m
in charge, and
you
will follow my instructions!’

Kawakami remained unswerved. He looked over his shoulder at Isralilova. ‘Prepare to shut everything down, Tamara,’ he said firmly. ‘Discontinue onboard telemetry with the MRV and…’

‘Sergeant!’ L’Enfant snapped.

There was the soft metallic
cha-chik
of a rifle being cocked. ‘Do what the commander says,’ Marks said quietly.

Everyone except L’Enfant looked toward the sergeant. Marks held his Steyr halfway to his shoulder, his right forefinger within the trigger guard. Nash raised his hands slightly, keeping them in plain sight; Kawakami followed suit, and Isralilova’s hands froze above her console.

‘Holy fucking Moses,’ Boggs said.

‘Shut up, Mr Boggs.’ L’Enfant touched the lobe of his headset. ‘Queen, report to the castle on the double. Come hot. King’s knight, stand by.’

He half-turned to gaze at Nash. ‘You’re beginning to be more trouble than you’re worth, seaman. I don’t like troublemakers.’

‘Thanks for the compliment,’ Nash replied drily. If it was L’Enfant’s idea to suddenly assign chess-derived code names to his squad members—an absurd gesture, considering that everyone knew where everyone else was located—then his paranoia had undoubtedly reached critical mass. One look at L’Enfant’s reddened face, his hyper-alert eyes, and Nash could tell that the man’s mental condition was deteriorating.

He cast a glance toward Sasaki. Her eyes briefly met his and she nodded ever so slightly; she had picked up the same clues. L’Enfant was on the verge of losing control. Although Nash couldn’t count on her assistance, a dangerous gambit was taking form in his mind. If he could just give L’Enfant a little push in the right direction…

He cocked his head toward Marks. ‘You know, Commander, having him open fire in here would be a serious mistake. Even if he doesn’t miss and cause a blowout, he might get the wrong person. You yourself, for instance.’

‘Like I really mind,’ Boggs murmured. Sasaki shushed him.

A hint of a smile appeared on L’Enfant’s face. ‘First, the sergeant’s rifle is loaded with safety bullets, same as the rounds in your own gun,’ he said calmly. ‘Second. Alphonse is an expert marksman. You should know that he was once a Marine Corps combat instructor.’

‘Which means you’re living on borrowed time, pal,’ Marks said from behind the stock of his rifle.
‘Comprende?’

Nash started to say something, but Sasaki suddenly cleared her throat. ‘All I know, Commander L’Enfant,’ she said, ‘is that…’

She hesitated, her lips trembling. L’Enfant turned around in his chair, locking eyes with her. ‘Yes, Dr. Sasaki?’ he said softly. ‘You were saying?’

‘I know that…you’re the sickest motherfucker I have ever met,’ she said with slow, carefully-pronounced deliberation.

She swallowed, then added, ‘And it’s a wonder you can walk and chew gum at the same time.’

L’Enfant’s face turned dark red as he gaped at her. Despite the fact that they were being held at gunpoint, everyone else stared in absolute shock at the astrophysicist. Kawakami’s mouth sagged open like a father who has just heard his daughter graphically describe the loss of her virginity.

‘Goddamn, Miho,’ Boggs breathed. ‘Who taught you to talk like that?’

Turning dismissively from L’Enfant, Sasaki smiled sweetly at Boggs. ‘You did,’ she replied. Her face became mock-serious. ‘Did I get it right?’

‘Uh…yeah. Sure. Especially the sick motherfucker part.’

There was another double knock on the hatch, and Swigart stepped through the doorway, holding her own rifle at the ready. ‘Is there a problem, Commander?’

L’Enfant licked his lips and slowly nodded his head without looking toward her; his gaze shifted to Nash. ‘Yes, Megan, there is,’ he said. ‘Mr Nash is responsible for a loss of proper morale. Please remove him. The storeroom will be fine for the time being.’

He reconsidered for a moment. ‘On second thoughts, Dr. Sasaki seems equally to blame for the disturbance. Since she’s nonessential personnel, please secure her in Module Five. Stand guard in the corridor to make sure that neither of them leaves without my permission.’

Swigart pointed her rifle toward Nash and Sasaki and jerked her head toward the hatch. As they eased past L’Enfant, the commander took a long, deep breath, then returned his attention to Kawakami. ‘Now, sir, you will continue with the mission with no further protest. If you refuse me again, I will instruct Lieutenant Swigart to escort Dr. Sasaki to the airlock for rapid decompression. Is this clearly understood?’

Kawakami said nothing for a few seconds…then he haltingly nodded his head and, after a final glance at Miho, turned his chair back around to his console. Isralilova reluctantly went back to her own work; Boggs remained stock-still, daunted by the bore of Marks’ assault rifle.

As Nash was stepping through the hatch, following Miho and with Swigart’s rifle barrel almost jabbing him in the back, he heard L’Enfant address him one more time. ‘You’ve been stupid twice since you’ve been here, Mr Nash,’ L’Enfant said. ‘As the old saying goes, three times is enemy action. Don’t push your luck.’

Nash didn’t look back or make a response. He simply let Swigart goad him out into the corridor.

Module Five, the females-only bunkhouse which Sasaki was sharing with Isralilova, was located at the other end of the access corridor from the monitor center; Module Three, the storeroom, was directly adjacent to it. Once the three of them were out in the corridor, Swigart wordlessly motioned Nash and Sasaki to walk in front of her; she let a quick thrust of her rifle barrel do the talking for her.

As they marched down the corridor, Nash heard the hatch of Module Eight slam firmly shut. Good; they were alone in the corridor now. Even without Sasaki’s timely interruption, this was exactly what he wanted. Everyone else was either in the monitor center or out on the surface, and the main tunnel was reasonably soundproof.

He hastily calculated his chances of getting the drop on Swigart once Sasaki was in Module Five. The odds didn’t look good—Swigart was armed, alert and undoubtedly trained in hand-to-hand combat—but since the only alternative was remaining at L’Enfant’s mercy, he realized that this would probably be his only opportunity for a breakout. If he could somehow get Swigart to step just inside the storeroom with him, perhaps he could kick the hatchcover against her and…

‘I’m not going in there,’ Miho said suddenly.

She came to an abrupt halt and, turning to Nash, grabbed his forearm. ‘No, I’m not going in there,’ she insisted, her eyes wide and frightened. ‘Paul needs me now. I can’t let him…’

‘Keep going!’ Swigart snapped. She also stopped walking; standing a few feet behind them, her Steyr was leveled from her hip at Sasaki, but her eyes kept darting from Miho to Nash. ‘Down the hall! Move!’

‘No!’ Sasaki didn’t even look at her; she grasped Nash’s shoulders and shook him. ‘I’m a scientist! I’m supposed to be in the monitor center now! Paul’s my friend, he needs me!’

Nash glanced at Swigart, then back into Sasaki’s wild eyes. ‘Miho, you’re not doing him or us any good,’ he whispered urgently. ‘If you fight them, they’ll take you in there and give you the same treatment they gave me. C’mon, just go into your…’

‘No!’
All at once, Sasaki turned around and began striding purposefully back the way they had come. ‘I have to help Paul! He needs me to get out of there alive! I’m the only one who can…!’

Swigart appeared to be startled. Her rifle lifted slightly, but not to shoulder height, as she took a single step forward. ‘Ma’am,’ she ordered, ‘you will turn around and…’

‘Get out of my way!’ Sasaki unexpectedly grabbed the barrel of Swigart’s rifle and angrily shoved it aside as if it were a toy. Swigart was thrown off-balance, both mentally and physically, by Sasaki’s reckless move; in that instant, she turned her back on Nash as she moved to block the Japanese scientist from stalking past her.