Seeds of Earth (26 page)

Perhaps this will be safer than hanging about in the air,
he thought as he tugged out his forest blade and attacked the tangle of vegetation.

The passage went on for another ten metres or so, blocked at regular intervals by bushes or creepers that had taken root in the soil-caked floor near the openings. He was sweating freely by the time the passage turned back the other way: the water-worn vestiges of steps were just visible under the layers of dirt and decay. Insects glimmered and settled in the slim beam of his comm-torch, which chimed just as he started hacking at another wall of desiccated twig. It was Cat. He took a deep breath and answered.

'Hi, Cat!'

'Right, what the hell happened?'

'Eh, nothing serious, just juggling with my comm . ..'

'Dammit, Greg, I... was worried ...'

He heard the catch in her voice and instantly regretted the offhand remark.

'I'm sorry, Cat, I'm okay, just had a wee fright when a clip broke. But I rigged a repair and I'm now inside the rock face of Giant's Shoulder and making my way down a passageway.'

'Is it safe?' she said. 'What does it look like?'

He gave a brief description and assured her that he was not in any danger.

'Aye, well watch out for doubletails - they nest in dark, dank places.'

'And they're usually found further to the north than this,' he said. 'But I will keep my eyes open, I promise. When's your shuttle flight?'

'Less than an hour.'

'I'll call you when I reach the opening,' he said. 'Or wherever this is leading to.'

After murmured goodbyes, he thumbed the torch back on and resumed chopping away dead foliage. Another thirty-odd minutes later he had hacked, kicked and torn his way through several barriers of roots, creepers and bushes, most of it dead growth. His exertions had raised wafts of dust which clung to his clothes and hair, working its way into the creases of his hands and face - he felt indescribably grimy and often coughed in the hazy gloom. But beyond the last clump of vegetation he came to a level landing and a large square door in the rock. Opposite the door was a semicircular window that was blocked by a curtain of heavy-leafed creeper, some of which had spilled inside.

Beyond the dark threshold of the door was a pitchblack corridor. With his torch lighting the way, Greg followed it inwards for about twenty paces before encountering a double row of pillars that completely blocked the way. The pillars were square and the rows were set close together in a staggered formation that obscured what lay further on. Frowning, he called Catriona.

'Took ye long enough,' she said.

'I've been doing a bit of pruning,' he said. 'Have you ever seen square pillars in a Uvovo building?' As he spoke he took out a small field cam and took a few pictures.

'No, never.'

'Well, I'm looking at some now.' He described them for her, then examined their tops and bottoms. 'The dirt and dust buildup is solid around the bases but up at the ceiling there's a definite gap, as if the pillars slid down maybe this is some kind of primitive stone portcullis . .. wait a second, what's that?'

After probing the gap around one pillar he had pushed it to see if there was any give, and immediately a sequence of four glowing symbols had appeared on its face, one by one down its length, and faded away. A moment later the sequence repeated itself and he swiftly took more pictures while describing what was happening.

'What do the symbols look like?' Cat said. 'Nothing like any of the glyphs that the Uvovo use, now or in the past.' He bent down for closer study.

'They're composed of straight and curved lines, some crossing others, some not.'

'Could be ideograms,' she said. 'But what kind of technology can embed glowing characters in stone and still be functioning thousands of years later?'

'Aye, those ancient Uvovo sure had a few tricks up their sleeves . ..'

Suddenly there was more light in the passage as several triangular symbols lit up on the adjacent pillar.

'Why have you gone quiet? Greg, what's happening now?'

'Seven triangles have appeared on the next pillar ... wait, the one at the bottom has gone out so there's six ...'

'Hmm, odd. Has it come back?'

'No, and another just went out, the top one, when the four symbols went through the sequence.'

'Hang on, the Uvovo use the triangle to symbolise an imperative demand for an answer so those other four ideograms ... must be some kind of question you have to answer before all the triangles are gone ... I think . . .'

'So how do I answer the question?'

'No idea - how many triangles are left?'

'Two.'

'Get out of there, Greg, now!'

He dived away from the pillars and dashed for the entrance. As he did, a rumble came from the surrounding rock then cracking sounds and a cluster of heavy impacts. Dust billowed out and settled on his shoes and trouser legs.

'Greg, are you okay?'

'I am,' he said. 'And now I'm going back inside for a look.' if I could reach through this comm . . .'

'There're more pillars, Cat, about fifteen paces in this time.'

The new obstruction was identical to the first but pristine, no windblown dust or dry leaf fragments nor insect remains.

'Don't touch it, Greg - in fact, don't even go near it. Promise me you'll go back up and wait till morning. Then you can speak with Foyle at the Institute and get hold of one of the Listeners to see if they recognise those symbols.'

'Aye . . . okay, Cat,' he said, retreating to the entrance. 'Maybe you're right. I'll head back up top, get some rest.'

'Good, you sleep well and I'll... send you a message when I'm home.'

'Okay, safe flight.'

For a few moments after the line disconnected, Greg stood there, smiling thoughtfully, wondering where this thing with Catriona was going - if it actually was going somewhere. Then he shrugged.

Hard to be sure now that she's away back to Nivyesta,
he thought.
As for this puzzle ... perhaps I'll wait for Chel, see what he thinks of those symbols, and when I've got something solid, then I'll tell Foyle at the Institute ...

He shone the comm torch back along the corridor one last time, peering at the pillars in the dimness. Then he saw something he hadn't noticed before, that the walls were covered in the familiar Uvovo raindrop pattern, incised lightly into the stone. Except that here the drops were depicted sideways as if they were streaming into Giant's Shoulder.

And there was something else, an extra detail he had never seen before; every drop had a round dot in it, making it resemble an eye, and the more he stared the more they really did look like eyes, hundreds, thousands filling either wall, rushing into the heart of Giant's Shoulder.

Chel, old friend,
he thought as he produced his camera once more, 7
hope you can help me figure out what this means before I have to hand it over to the Institute*.

25

THEO

Sixteen hours after the bombing in Founders Square, with dawn still an hour or more away, Theo and several others were hurrying through the streets of High Lochiel. Rory was in constant contact with the teams staking out the house while Ivanov, Hansen and Forshaw provided armed escort, their semi-automatics hidden by long coats. Theo was likewise prepared with a 48-calibre hunting revolver holstered at his waist.

'How much further, Rory?'

'No' far, Major - the house is three streets away and we'll be goin' in the back door of the building across the road. Our main obs post is on the top flair.'

'How many exits? Who's covering them?'

'It's a three-storey rooming house, two exits - Fyfe's team is covering the front, Brunni's at the back wi' his boys and a sharpshooter.'

'What about comings and goings?'

'Two women entered about an hour ago - Benny says they were both totally hammered, must've been at a party - and a man not long after them. Our boy stayed in his apartment and is still there.'

'Good - tell Fyfe and Brunni that we'll move in the next twenty minutes.'

It was the rifle which had led them here. Its serial number dated back to the time of the Winter Coup, and came from a government shipment of arms that Viktor Ingram's men had seized just before Theo Karlsson's small army marched into Hammergard and occupied the Assembly buildings. After Theo's surrender and Ingram's suicide, the shipment had been broken up and hidden away in various locations, apart from one portion that was ditched in the sea by its couriers while in transit north, pursued by a coastal patrol. The two men involved, Grieve and Orloff, were later reported dead in a house fire in Trond. The surviving arms ended up years later as part of Theo's assets. But Rory had a record of all the assets' serial numbers and found that the scope rifle came from the missing weapons cache, supposedly lying in 200 feet of water due east of New Kelso. It seemed unlikely that they had ever been dumped in the sea at all, but the rifle's number provided no useful lead.

They had more luck with the scope. It was custommade but had no makers mark, leading Theo to visit a smoky trappers' bar in Hammergard's wharfside district. There, a leathery-faced veteran hunter called McTavish studied the wallet of images Theo had brought along and identified the craftsman as Maxim Lirmenov, an optician of High Lochiel. Theo and Rory then travelled the 35 miles up the North Highway to High Lochiel, reaching its outskirts in the early evening. The light was still on in Lirmenov's shop and the moment they entered Rory recognised the optician as being none other than Kazimir Orloff, one of Ingram's supposedly deceased gun runners.

With Rory's autopistol pressed against the back of his neck, Orloff had quickly caved in, admitted that he'd sold the scoped rifle to a man called Denisov. There was an address for him in the sales record but Orloff said it was probably false; while returning from a client in the north of the town last night he had chanced to see Denisov using a key to enter a run-down rooming house. With that address, Theo had Janssen get a couple of local reliables along there to watch the place while Rory drafted in some lads from Landfall and Gagarin.

The observation post was in a disused office on the fourth floor of a rickety building that sat between a lumber yard and a low warehouse. The stairs were lit by a couple of minimal glostrips while the room's inky darkness was broken only by a red lamp sitting on the floor. As they entered, a diminutive woollen-capped man glanced round from the tripod telescope positioned at the window.

'Hello, Rory, Major Karlsson - would you like to see?' he said, rising from a three-legged stool.

'Thanks, Benny,' Theo said, taking his place. 'Any change?'

'No, sir, he's still there, sitting and reading, drinking a cup of tea, as if he's waiting for something.'

'Or somebody,' said Rory with a lascivious chuckle. 'Like a lady friend!'

Theo gave a half-smile as he looked into the telescope, i doubt that he's the kind to take such risks.'

Through the lens he saw a third-floor window with patterned curtains almost fully open and a leanly built man reclining in an armchair reading a copy of
Crag & Coast Monthly.
Denisov was wearing a short-sleeved red shirt and dark trousers and wisps of vapour rose from the cup on a nearby table.

'And that's all he's been doing?' Theo said, frowning.

'Mostly, for the last hour or so.'

Theo thought a moment then nodded. 'Okay, I don't think we should wait any longer. Rory, tell Fyfe and Brunni to get ready to—'

Just then Rory and Benny's handsets crackled into life.

'Activity at the rear,' said a voice. 'Guy in blue workwear just came out - he's carrying a toolbox and taking a bike out of the shed ...'

Theo squinted down the telescope. 'He's still there.'
But something doesn't feel right.
He beckoned for Benny's handset and thumbed the reply.

'Brunni, this is Karlsson - describe the man for me.'

'Short, stocky build, receding hair - looks harmless but I can have one of my lads grab him if you like.'

Theo stared at the man who called himself Denisov as he calmly sipped his drink and turned a page.

'Let him go,' he said. 'We don't want to alert Denisov before we have to.'

'Right... that's him pedalling away now.'

'Okay - Brunni and Fyfe, move your men up to front and rear doors. When you're both in position, move in: do your best to take Denisov alive.'

'Understood.'

Theo stood up to get a better view of the street while using his binoculars to keep an eye on the target. Three men were heading for the rooming house's front door,

again long coats concealing weaponry from any chance observation. Theo watched, feeling a knot of tension in his stomach as he listened to the murmured voices on the handsets. One of the three forced the lock then the door was open and they were inside.

'Remember - we want him alive,' he said, raising the binoculars again. Denisov still sat in his chair, reading, drinking. Theo's uneasy feeling sharpened as the open channels relayed the team's stealthy progress up the main stairs. Denisov never changed and Theo was about to order a pause when a woman started screaming inside the house. Denisov didn't so much as flinch. Seized by a rush of dread, Theo was drawing breath to order a retreat when the upper floor erupted in flames and a roaring crash.

Theo threw up his arm instinctively as the explosion ripped off part of the rooming house roof and blew out the walls of Denisov's apartment. The windows of the observation room rattled in the shockwave and a few of the small panes shattered. When Theo straightened and looked outside, the rooming house's top floor was engulfed in fire.

'My God, a trap!' said a horrified Benny, it was a trap ...'

Theo ignored him, instead snarled into the handset. 'All teams report! - Brunni and Fyfe report!'

'Major, this ... is Uvarov - Brunni and Fyfe are both dead. We've got another three injured and only myself and Dewar unhurt, but there's people trapped upstairs should we go in after them?'