The Namura Stone (18 page)

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Authors: Gillian Andrews

BOOK: The Namura Stone
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Diva nodded and looked eager. “Let’s go, then!” She picked up the explosives they were to take with them this time and waited as the others assembled everything they thought they might need and made their way outside the shuttle.

“Hmm. Not bad!” Diva examined the legs of the shuttle, noticing that Ledin had managed to avoid a large ditch which would have made take-off quite a task. It was about the nicest thing she had ever said about the Kwaidian’s flying ability, and Ledin took it in the spirit it was meant: as a deep compliment. He gave a small bow and then led the way with effortless ease to the top of the cliff. He and Six were the only ones who had that level of skill on vertical rock, which is why one of them had gone with each group.

Grace stared at Diva. She wasn’t so sure. Still, she made her way valiantly out of the shuttle and began to make a harness for herself. She would still need help to get up the rock face with her mangled fingers, even though it would be easier from this position than it had been last time.

Diva caught the rope Ledin had thrown down and smiled at her friend.

“We’ll have you up in no time, Grace. Don’t worry.”

Grace smiled back, and nodded, watching as her friend made short work of the vertical climb. She had at last come to terms with her slight disability, and now just accepted its disadvantages as something necessary and normal.

Before long the rope came snaking back down the cliff, and Grace struggled to attach it. This was certainly something that was not as easy as it had been before. At last she was satisfied. It was strong enough; it would hold her. She gave the rope three sharp pulls and then started up the cliff as best she could, helping the two above her as they hauled her upwards.

Within five minutes she was safely at the top. She gave a small sigh of relief and submitted to Ledin’s untying the knot quickly.

“Right,” he said. “Follow me!”

He disappeared into the sleeting rain, vanishing into the gloom of saturated fog after only three steps. Diva and Grace scuttled after him as best they could. Underfoot the ground was soggy, interspersed with hard patches of rock. Their feet either slapped on the hard surface, or sank squelching into the muddy one. They made their way as quietly as they could up to the smooth high wall which loomed out of the white mist.

They had come prepared for this, too, this time. Ledin threw up a hooked grapple, which caught on the thin rim of the wall, metres above them. In a second, he had pulled himself up to the top. Then Diva followed, needing some help from above to scramble up the gleaming copper wall with its dark flecks of carbon nanographite. Finally, between the two of them, they dragged Grace up to join them. Then they reversed the process, letting her down the other side first, before Diva slid down to join her, followed by Ledin, who unhooked the grappling iron with a deft flick of his wrist and coiled it. They carefully placed it behind a rock, using some of the lush greenery to disguise its position.

“Not that you need to hide it much,” said Diva with a huge grin. “I doubt even we would manage to find it again in this weather.”

“Hopefully we won’t have to,” said Ledin. “I’m only burying the grapple and one of the ropes here as a failsafe. We should be able to get out via the escape tubes into the water, like last time.”

There was a silence. What he didn’t have to say is that they might not get out at all. They were well aware that the Dessites might have improved their security since the last incursion into their installations, but nobody had been able to think of a better way to get to the orthogel, so the plan had gone ahead anyway. They all knew that the chances of success were much less than they had been the first time they had come here.

Diva’s eyes flashed in the gloom. She was enjoying some action again. They were making good time, too; she thought that they would beat Six’s group to the entry slide. She grinned to herself. He would be furious if they did.

Ledin was creeping forwards with great care now. They knew that there were Dessites patrolling the inside of the open-air compound where they now were and had sprayed their bodywraps a bright red this time, which would make them practically invisible as far as the natives were concerned. The Dessites could only see in the ultraviolet part of the electromagnetic spectrum because they had evolved as sea–living creatures. Unfortunately, the instant quantum communication between the Dessites meant that only one of them needed to become aware of an attack for the rest of the Dessite world to know it immediately. It was imperative that they get as far as the orthogel before they were spotted.

Ledin suddenly froze, and the two girls followed suit. A large shape had loomed up through the fog. They all stopped breathing.

The Dessite made a peculiar rustling sound on the damp grass as it passed, its lower membranes flowing over the terrain remarkably efficiently, considering it had evolved to live in the sea. Grace daren’t move as the shadow, more than twice her own size, glided past. She couldn’t see Diva’s face, but she knew that her own must be showing pale, even against the curtains of waterlogged mist that surrounded them eerily. She felt her throat move convulsively and found it suddenly difficult to refrain from making any noise.

Then the huge shadow was past, and they were able to breathe again. Grace was aware of the thudding of her heart and experienced an adrenalin surge now that the immediate danger was passed. She closed her eyes, and then breathed out shakily.

“That was close!”

Ledin nodded. “There may be more about,” he warned. “We are approaching the hut that goes down to the facility now.”

Diva peered around her into the murk. “Good,” she said, with great satisfaction, “we beat Six here.”

Ledin spread his hands. “We were closer to the top of the cliff, and Six had to get the key from the gate, remember? We don’t want to have to blast the door off this hut – we would have the whole Dessite world about our ears in no time.”

It didn’t matter to Diva. She was pirouetting around in a circle and looking pleased.

“Taken to imitating ballet dancers, have we, Diva?” Six’s voice sounded from behind the hut.

Diva stopped twirling and stared with disbelief. “How did you get here first?” she demanded.

“We didn’t stop to gossip on the way.”

Both the girls glared at that, which made all the men smile. Six held up the key triumphantly. “It looks as if they never suspected us last time, because the key was still hanging on the same hook. No problem!”

“Great!” Diva grabbed it out of his hand and fitted it into the lock, which opened easily. “Slide, anyone?”

Both Bennel and Tallen were staring at the top of the slides in some amazement. There was a large column of water coming up one wide cylinder from the depths of the facility, racing upwards and overflowing from the top of the inner cylinder into an outer tube. A stream of bubbles burst out of the rising water in the transparent tube, showing just how strong the down-to-up current was.

Bennel and Tallen stared. Then their eyes got used to the darkness inside the hut, and they realized that, curving around the cylinder, was a shining copper slide with big black specks set inside the sheen of the metal. It wound around and around the column of water until it disappeared into the shadows.

Diva pulled one of the mats out of a waiting pile of dark rectangles, placed it with the rearing front end facing downwards, and then clambered on, her face expectant.

“Well, Six, feel like a ride?”

Six stepped over the high rail and settled himself behind her comfortably. There was a pause, and then the mat and its occupants slid away from the hut, gathering speed as they wound downwards around the column, until they vanished.

Ledin and Grace were next onto a mat, Ledin fitting himself with some care behind Grace, making sure that his arms stretched past her on either side. Her hands weren’t strong enough to keep her in place on the mat. They too pushed off and vanished downwards.

Bennel looked at Tallen. “One each?” he suggested.

Tallen nodded. “You go first.”

Bennel settled his tall body with some difficulty onto the mat, his knees sticking up on either side in a rather ungainly manner. Then he too was gone.

Tallen found himself alone at the entrance to the Dessite facility. He looked around and gave a shiver. It was not a pleasant place. Hastily he grabbed a mat and pushed himself off down the polished slide.

Immediately, he was aware of the speed picking up. At first it was quite pleasant to be hurtling down in a spiral around the bubbling column of water, but then it accelerated to such an extent that the rapid corkscrew movement downwards became almost unbearable. He was thrown violently out past the rim of the mat and towards the wall, which flashed by, threatening to burn his body as the mat swept along the gleaming slide. It was an effort to hang on; now he knew why Ledin had taken such pains with Grace. She would stand no chance with her own wrecked fingers.

The more the mat whizzed around the central column, the more his head complained about the changing direction. In fact, he felt quite sick. Tallen was disgusted with his weak body; he hoped it would not betray him by causing him to re-emit part of his breakfast when the spinning stopped. He pressed his lips together. Namuri were not such feeble spirits as that! Even so, he did find himself wishing that the journey on the slide could finish shortly.

At last he was disgorged into a rising slope, and bright light. The mat slowed down and came to a halt at the top of a small platform. He staggered out and clutched onto a nearby rail to avoid collapsing.

“Right. Now we’re all here we can get started.” Six’s voice appeared to be coming from a very long way away. Tallen gave his head a slight shake, and tried to concentrate all his energy on listening instead of on staying upright and keeping his food down. Thankfully, he found that the effects were disappearing quite quickly. He stumbled down the stairs to join the others, who were gathered near some large metal hatches which seemed to lead out from the facility. Ledin was standing behind, keeping a sharp lookout for any Dessites.

“We will split up into two groups,” explained Six. “We might as well keep the same groups as in the shuttles. Group 1 – that is me, Bennel and Tallen – will make our way along the port side. Group 2 – Ledin, Diva and Grace will take the starboard side. We will divide up the explosives. Whoever finds the orthogel will try to remove it from the installation, but if that proves to be impossible then we will have to set the explosives. We should all change mask packs now.”

He waited until everyone had done that, and then continued, “The charges are strong enough to destroy a substantial amount of orthogel, although they won’t do much damage to the installations themselves. The Dessites will know that we have sabotaged them, of course, but hopefully it will take them long enough to find it out to allow us to escape and get back to the shuttles. Now, make sure you check each and every area. We have no idea where Arcan is, remember. He could be anywhere – that is why we have come on this mission.”

There was some shuffling of feet, and they all nodded. Only Six and Diva seemed in their element. Ledin was looking uncomfortable, and Tallen had a wry smile on his face, as if to say that he knew he might lose his life on this mission, and that the opportunity to join his sister in the sacred marshes was greatly appreciated. Six looked at Diva, and indicated Tallen with his eyes. One of the reasons he had designated the Namuri to his own group was to keep an eye on him. Six knew how keen the boy was to immolate himself at the first chance he got to do it with honour, and he had every intention of stopping him.

Diva’s lips twitched. She gave the slightest of nods. She had grown to appreciate the Namuri boy, and knew that Six would take care of him. She looked over at her Kwaidian husband and her eyes glittered with subdued excitement at the thought of imminent action.

“Stay watchful!” she told them.

Six’s eyes softened as they gazed at Diva’s face. He could see that she was raring to go. And she was the quickest fighter he knew; she would take care of herself and the others, too. He hesitated, wanting to stride over and kiss her, but then became aware that they were waiting for him to give the order to move out. He jerked his head in a terse goodbye and steeled himself to turn away. It was time.

SIX AND THE TWO Coriolans made their way painstakingly along the corridors, ducking into every part of the facility on the Island of the Forthgoing and examining every nook and cranny. They were forced to pause often. There were many Dessites in these corridors, and although the red colour of the bodywraps made them almost impossible for the Dessites to detect, they knew that they might still be seen if they were moving.

After two hours they were two-thirds of the way through the port side of the facility and they had found nothing at all. There were no signs of any orthogel in any of the chambers and, even though the Dessites were clearly busy with their day-to-day business, there seemed to be no out-of-the-ordinary things going on.

Six sighed. He had assigned this side of the Dessite island to his own team because he had been sure that they would find the orthogel here. His last incursion had told him that most of the important laboratories were on this side of the island, which was the opposite side to where the visitor had been held before.

Tallen was becoming impatient. His character was more suited to battles rather than subterfuge, and it was beginning to look as if the chance to join his sister in the sacred marshes was to be denied to him this time around. His eyes flickered impotently around him. So many ways to get himself killed, and so little opportunity! It had been hard enough to lower his sword when faced with Tartalus; now it seemed as if fate were laughing at his intentions. The words of the Namuri chant his sister had used reverberated around in his head.

“… I will not give up, I will be death.

I will not fail, for the blue stone is in my heart.”

But it appeared that death was not coming for him just yet, however much he desired it. Whatever his own wishes, he could not and would not jeopardize other lives to obtain the oblivion he wished for. He could not fail. No; it had to be in battle – a death worthy of the blue stone, not a coward’s way out. But his heart was heavy, and had been since his sister’s death. It was hard to struggle on without her, hard to live with the survivor’s guilt which ate into his heart, impossible to fill the void her death had left him with. He wondered if he had lost the blue stone altogether. Perhaps he was unworthy, unlike Petra.

Bennel saw the pain in Tallen’s face, and wished that he could help the youngster over it, but he knew that nothing could alleviate it. Perhaps time would soften the grief, if the boy was lucky, but nothing could ever take it away completely; it would be a dull ache inside, nagging at him, distracting him, depressing him.

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