Ruthless (25 page)

Nigel finally added more bite to the winch, thumbing up the gain on the launcher so that he halted mid-air with a sudden twang. His feet dangled comically just a few inches above Wulf's head.

"Nice going," said Wulf appreciatively, in the mistaken belief that Nigel had planned it that way. Wordlessly, Nigel edged himself down the last few feet, finally unclipping himself to drop the last few inches. His life wire launcher dangled amid the group of men standing on the door. They were getting to be a close-knit group now: Squid, Johnny, Wulf, the Gronk, and now Nigel. Despite their combined weight, the door beneath their feet showed no signs of stress or buckling.

Johnny gingerly eased Nigel's free-floating launcher down to the door and attached it to the handle alongside his and Wulf's. The three winches should be good enough.

"This ought to do it," he said, more out of hope than assurance. He turned on the first winch and its gears complained loudly. The second followed and made a similar whining noise. But as he activated the third, the tone from the three motors changed. It deepened and evened out, the whines of distress fading into a happy hum.

"Is it working?" whispered Squid.

Four men and a Gronk watched the winches expectantly. A single LED flashed to show Nigel's was working - Wulf and Johnny always smashed giveaway lights on their equipment to prevent detection.

"Well?" asked Nigel. "Is it?"

From somewhere below their feet, there came the sound of something cracking.

"Ice," said Wulf. "It is breaking der ice,
jah
?"

Somewhere on the other side of the door, years of ice were falling away as ancient hinges swung back into life. Slowly but surely, the left-hand door began to rise. Its hinges creaked with deafening screeches, causing Squid and Nigel to plug their fingers into their ears.

Inch by inch, the life wires pulled at the giant slab of iron until there was an opening big enough for a Gronk. Then the winches continued their work until the opening was almost big enough for a man to slip through.

"I'm not waiting all day," Squid said, hefting his bulk between the widening gap. With a yelp, he fell from sight.

"Some people never learn," said Wulf.

"Sneck off," said Squid, only a few feet below. "There's only a little drop."

"Shame," said Nigel. "A larger one might have shut him up for good."

When the gap was big enough to admit Wulf, Johnny shut down the winches. There was no point in wasting their power making an opening big enough for a truck.

"Now remember," he said to the remaining treasure hunters. "There could be traps and pitfalls. We don't know what to expect in there."

Nigel was already shining his torch through the gap. He eased himself through and dropped, barely missing Squid.

"Do you mind?" said the bounty hunter.

"Oh just sneck off," said Nigel. There was a light in his eyes. He had forgotten about Ruth, about the pirates, and the recent carnage onboard the
China
. Now all he could smell was adventure and success.

Johnny and Wulf smelled something different.

"Pooey," said the Gronk.

Despite the cold, Johnny smelt dust and decay.

"This is like der grave-pits of the Romans," said Wulf who had raided a few in his time.

Johnny nodded in agreement. "We're getting close," he told the others.

Johnny dropped through the door too. The passage had once turned upwards at an angle. Now, thanks to the pyramid's new position, it was almost horizontal and they were able to easily walk on it. The Gronk, however, refused to go any further. It didn't like the dark and it didn't like the thought of the big metal door slamming shut behind them.

Johnny had to agree and told the Gronk to stand guard. The prospect hardly filled either of them with confidence.

Without a torch of his own, Squid's eagerness was fading. He had instead tried to commission the use of Nigel's and the two men were engaged in a tug-of-war in the passage. Wulf was about to push past them when Johnny held him back.

"I'll go first," said Johnny. No torch was necessary for him. He walked ahead, confident in his ability to see what they couldn't. His alpha vision showed him the featureless continuation of the passage. There were no Roman decorations here; the tomb was stark and functional, as if designed by reluctant atheists who knew nobody would see it.

Squid and Nigel were still fighting over the torch while trying to advance at the same time. Johnny pushed past them and forged on ahead, his alpha eyes scanning the passage for any sign of danger. But he saw no covered pits on the wall that had once been the floor, and there weren't any holes for darts or guns on the floor that had once been a wall. The pyramid seemed completely solid but for the passageway that cut through it.

A streak of light along the corridor told Johnny that Wulf was catching up, shining his own torch ahead to assist his inferior human eyes.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" said Johnny.

"
Jah
," said Wulf, much to Johnny's surprise. "Odd der Odd, in the Finnmark. He was buried in a big cave."

"Er... right," said Johnny. "I was being a little more specific than that."

"
Jah
," said Wulf, his feet clomping along next to Johnny's now. "But Odd der Odd had no guards or traps; just a cairn of stones over der body. You know why?"

Johnny shook his head, then realised that in the dark passageway he would need to be a little more forthcoming. "Why?"

"Because there was der wall of ice not far from der grave. Odd knew that der glacier thing would roll over him and shut der cave for good."

The passageway turned to the right again at a thirty-degree angle. The left-hand wall was serrated once more. They had reached a place where there had once been another staircase.

"You think that Kulta knew the glacier would move the pyramid?"

Wulf shrugged, knowing that Johnny would see it. "Maybe he didn't even know he was going to die and this thing was knocked up by der unhappy relatives."

Johnny thought of a family dressed in mourning, staring at a selection of Pythagorean solids and arguing about which one was best.

"It's just that, flickery sun aside, this place must have been bad enough. Even a hundred years ago," Wulf said.

"They knew nobody would come?"

"It is far out of the way. The Nozomis have always been unstable. Kulta's empire was already falling apart. Why waste time with extra traps and stuff?"

"And the golden pyramid thing."

"It is gold of der
colour
," said Wulf. "Not gold of der substance. This is a difference in meaning that is very obvious in Old Norse." Wulf thought for a moment and then added a dismayed coda. "Even der Saxons could tell der difference. Your language has fallen into der bits in der last few centuries."

"Kulta was a fraud?" said Johnny. The echoes of his footfalls sounded duller, as if there was less space to travel in. Although he couldn't see it yet, he could tell they were reaching a chamber.

"So he wanted a pretty pyramid. Did Kulta ever tell us it was made of the real gold?" asked Wulf.

Johnny thought for a moment. Actually, now Wulf came to mention it, it was only Isaiah and his collection of old stories that insinuated about the gold. And of course, there were the excitable reports of Malcolm's scouts, none of whom had been smart enough to run a metallurgy test before calling in the cavalry.

"Think of der crazy stories people tell about us!" said Wulf. "And we are still alive!"

That much was true. Johnny and Wulf had heard some incredible tales in bars across the galaxy, with themselves as the unwitting stars. Johnny in particular had been with the Search/Destroy Agency since its inception. It gave him a longer arrest record, and something of a legendary status among the newer recruits. Something about their arrest record at the Doghouse, and embellishments of their stranger cases had led to a number of apocryphal tales, more suitable for a comic than a news report. Interestingly, the weirder stories tended to be the truer.

The crazy darting of the light from Squid's torch had finally stopped as Nigel caught up with them, the torch in his hands.

"I think we're getting close," he whispered. From somewhere further back in the passage, Squid was complaining about his itchy back and was trying to get a torch from the Boy. Much, much further away, came the distant sound of a Gronk singing to itself and the even more distant sound of a Betelgeusian yelling at it to shut up.

"Why are you whispering?" said Johnny. It's not like anyone is alive in here.

"Er... yeah," said Nigel. "Right. I forgot."

"It is just good manners," said Wulf, a trifle muted from before. "We are in der dead man's final resting place."

"Okay, okay," said Johnny.

"He is in here all alone, with perhaps just a few slave girls for company."

"Do you really think so?" asked Nigel.

"Oh
jah
," said Wulf. "All der important chiefs take slave girls. You know, in case der Valkyries are late in Valhalla."

Johnny's feet scuffed to a stop. Discussion of Viking burial customs could wait.

"We're here," he said, forming a twisted crouch and craning his head at an angle. His fellows did likewise, each trying to work out how the room looked when it was the right way up. Squid and the Boy found the others bent ninety-degrees to the side, like they were in the midst of an exercise and stretch routine.

A staircase had once climbed up to reach a square burial vault. Sitting at the centre of the pyramid itself had been a cubic room with a single entrance. In the middle of the room, extruded from the metal of the pyramid itself, was a great golden slab, the final resting place of Kulta. That had been many decades ago when the pyramid sat on the ground as its makers intended. Now the passageway dropped into the cube from the side. The slab was now a large lump sticking out of one of the walls.

"Where's the body?" hissed Nigel, a note of urgency in his voice.

"It must have fallen off the plinth," said Johnny.

"
Jah
," said Wulf. "First time der pyramid turns," he rolled an imaginary shape in his hands, "and he falls off der table-thing. Then it rolls again."

"And he bounces around inside," said Johnny.

"Like a giant tumble drier," said Squid, helpfully.

"Except made of iron and shaped like a pyramid," added Wulf.

"And rolling along the ground, pushed by a glacier," said Squid.

"Enough," said Johnny. "We get the point. Kulta's body should be lying somewhere on the floor."

Two torches and one pair of mutant eyes aimed down at the "floor" of the chamber.

"I'll look," said Squid, vaulting down from the main passageway into the chamber itself. He hit the bottom with an audible
sputch
.

"Ewww!" Squid squealed. He sank ankle deep in something soft and yielding, the unexpected sensation causing him to loose his balance. His knees buckled, causing him to fall backwards into the mud.

"I think you'll find," said Johnny, "that there's a lot of junk down there."

"Snecking hell," said an angry Squid. "It's muddy."

"I am guessing," said Wulf, "that earth and gravel and water ran down into der pyramid when it was pointing up."

"Yeah," said Johnny, "which is good."

"Good my arse," said Squid in revulsion, trying to climb to his feet and slipping a second time. He dragged his arms free with a swampy sucking sound.

"So," said Johnny. "Everybody clear on that? Watch out for the mud."

The four men remaining in the passageway stared down at Squid flailing in the dirt. His feet had already scuffed free patches of gold beneath the mud. It wasn't deep. It was just that it was unpleasant, and it had been a long day.

The Boy looked at the others with a grimace of reluctance.

"All right," said Johnny, knowing him well enough to understand that that was as close to a comment he was going to get from him. "Boy, you stay up here to pull us back up."

"You think we won't make it back up there?" asked Nigel, easing himself down from the ledge. When he was dangling by the full extension of his arms, his feet were only a little way above the floor beneath. He let himself fall, but the floor was at a very slight angle, and his sense of balance was not prepared for it. Nigel slipped and landed flat on his back in the ooze, Squid-style.

"I just want to prepare for any possible dangers," replied Johnny.

"For der love of Frigg," said Wulf, easing down after Nigel, determined not to make the same mistake. "Johnny, der sun is going to explode. Is that not dangerous enough for you?"

"There is that point," conceded Johnny, climbing down after Wulf.

Wulf and Johnny joined Squid and Nigel in the chamber. The four men stood ankle-deep in the mud and waited for someone to say something.

Squid was peering gingerly at the floor, looking for something, anything man-made. "Do we know what this Kulta looks like?" he asked.

"Well," said Johnny, "we're probably standing in him."

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of feet squelching uneasily in mud.

"In him?" asked Wulf.

"He's had plenty of time to turn to soup," Johnny pointed out. Spying something in the mud, he reached in with his gloved hand and pulled out a long, heavy stick.

"What is it?" asked Wulf.

"A staff?" Johnny said. "A sceptre, maybe?"

"A stick?" suggested Squid.

Whatever it was, Johnny used it to probe and poke in the mud at his feet.

"I've got something," said Squid, lifting a piece of cloth out of the mud. It started to tear in his hand, unwilling to come free of its muddy prison, and Squid swiftly grabbed it below the tear with his other hand. He continued to pull, following the cloth as it led him first one step, then another across the chamber.

"Better hope it's not der curtains," said Wulf. But Squid was onto something. The cloth kept going.

"That's a lot of fabric just lying around," said Nigel.

"How much of it is there?" asked Wulf. Squid kept going. The fabric seemed to be clustered in a pile. Squid no longer had to move to follow it, but he was still pulling large chunks of it out of the mud.