Jupiter's Bones (32 page)

Just remain cool, remain super cool. Think of the kids. The kids, the kids, the kids!

A pull back toward Elise.

Again the message was passed along telephone-style.

Keep going, keep going!

Her head felt light.

No, Dunn, no! You’re not going to faint. Slow your breathing down
.

A drag on the rope…Lauren telling her to stop.

Marge passed the signal down.

Then she stopped.

Counting softly, but this time, she counted audibly. She wanted to hear something besides the dribbling of groundwater. She wanted to hear something besides Lauren’s scratching. Most of all, she couldn’t stand the horrible silence that engulfed her when Lauren wasn’t scratching or the water wasn’t dripping.

One…two…three…four…five…six…

Don’t panic, don’t panic!

Thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…

The message to keep going.

Pass it on back, Dunn, pass it on back
.

Shimmying on her belly, she proceeded. Nothing in front, nothing in back.

Nowhere to run
.

Nowhere to run
.

Wasn’t that a song title?

That’s good, Dunn. Think of song titles
.

Just keep on truckin’, girl, keep on truckin’
.

The seconds slowly converting to minutes—first to one minute…then two…then five…then ten…fifteen…

Inching forward, her face and mask painted with ground muck as she wondered just
how
many gnats, mosquitoes and pathogens was she inhaling or smearing into her pores.

Keep on truckin’
.

Gettin’ good at it now, girlie. You can do it
.

Another signal to stop.

Pass it on down, Dunn. Pass it down
.

Counting slowly. One…two…three…four…five…

Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute. Then two.

Don’t panic, don’t panic!

Three minutes crawled by, then four.

Again, the panic. Too much time was passing. She signaled to Lauren—
tell me what’s going down, girl
?

Her question remained unanswered.

Marge’s heart took off in flight.
Oh, God Almighty, please tell me what the hell was happening? Please just let her be okay!

Again, Marge attempted to relay another message to Lauren via the rope.

Again, her signal wasn’t returned.

Good God, was Lauren intercepted? Should she and Elise turn back?

Wait it out, Dunn! A few more minutes. Wait it out!

After ten minutes, Marge felt a pull from behind. Stone was now asking her what was going down. Damned if she knew.

Another minute, then she’d give the turnaround signal.

Ten seconds…twenty…

What to do! What to do!

Thirty…forty…

At last, there was a draw about her waist, the sign coming from Lauren.

A sweet,
sweet
sign!

Lauren had given her a message via rope pulls, and what a message! She had made it to the entrance to the Order.

Stop until further notice.

Marge passed it to Elise.

Again, minutes passed. But this time Marge felt better waiting. Because if one of them had made it, surely she and Elise would make it as well.

Lauren was safe.

Five minutes passed. Then Marge felt a drag on her rope. Lauren was telling her to press on.

Pass it down to Elise.

With renewed vigor, Marge inched forward. Her breathing had calmed, and clarity of thought filled her brain. She didn’t realize it, but there were tears in her eyes.

A slender hand
reached down, grabbing the mud-caked glove. Peering upward through the narrow hole, Marge could see Lauren’s dirt-encrusted face, her finger over her lips in warning. Digging her feet into the slimy wall of the tunnel, Marge tried to root herself. Though Marge must have outweighed Lauren by fifty pounds, the young girl pulled with reserved force, lifting Marge’s head and shoulders above the murky canal. Unfortunately, Marge’s lower body remained compressed inside the tunnel. Her gloves weren’t much help. Slick with muck, they held little traction. Still, she pressed the greasy palms against the floor’s flat surface and attempted to liberate her torso. But the gloves slid out from under. Lauren clutched around her shoulders before she sank down.

“Good catch,” Marge mouthed. “One more time.”

She repositioned herself, then slowly hefted her body. Feeling her biceps and triceps distend as she levitated from the cylindric tomb. When she was far out enough to bend her knees, she twisted her waist and swung her long legs outward. Expelled from the primordial ooze, Marge collapsed onto the floor. Her lungs now breathing real oxygen, she felt literally reborn.

Lauren reached over and turned off her miner’s cap light, whispering directly into her ear. “Are you all right?”

“Perfect,” Marge whispered back.

The space was raven black. But Marge knew that they were in one of the Order’s two classrooms—specifically the supply closet. As Elise Stone approached, her hat gave off a crescent of light. Marge’s eyes adjusted, and she could discern several robes, hanging from the closet’s pole, swaying like poltergeists. Slowly, she rose to her feet.

Lauren spoke in hushed tones. “The nursery is next door. We shouldn’t talk unless necessary. Never know where they planted bugs.”

Marge agreed. In silence, they waited for Elise, scraping gunk from the friction treads of their shoes. The last thing they needed was to slip. Pulling out Elise was easier because there were two of them. As they waiting for Agent Stone to catch her breath, Marge took out a penlight and honed in on the robes. They were white. She took one down and wrapped it over her dirty clothing. “Better camouflage than what I have on.”

Elise and Lauren followed her lead. Going through a final checklist, Marge reread her instruction sheet.

“Change of plans, Lauren,” she said. “They want us to go out first with older kids.”

“What? Why not the babies?”

“Babies go last,” Elise stated. “They’re more likely to cry and expose us. If we take them last, and they do attract attention and screw us up, at least the older kids will have made it out.”

Lauren whispered, “But the nursery is the closest to us. The kids’ bedrooms are several doors down. We’ll have to walk down a hallway to get to them. I’m sure someone will be guarding the corridor. Talk about exposing ourselves before we’ve rescued a soul.”

“I’ll take care of the guard,” Marge answered. “You just convince the kids to follow you. From what I saw of them and how well they were trained, that’s not going to be easy.”

Lauren sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Marge
didn’t
know what she was doing. But neither did anyone else.

“What about this thing?” Lauren pointed to her bulletproof vest under the white robe.

“Keep it on.”

Elise said, “I’ll keep watch. You’d better hop to it.”

“Somebody gets in your face, you know the drill.”

“I know. Shoot to kill,” Elise said.

Marge checked her Beretta, making sure the magazine was shoved in all the way. When Lauren started to move, she held her back. “I go first—”

“But—”

“I got the gun—”

“But I got the vest,” Lauren protested. “Besides, I know where I’m going.”

“Good point,” Elise chimed in.

Marge said, “We’ll go out together. But first let me check out the room. Besides the security camera focused on the teacher’s desk, anything else that I should be aware of?”

“Not that I know of.”

Marge said a quick silent prayer, then turned the handle of the closet door. Carefully, she opened the door just enough to peek out. All she could see were blotches and shadows. She extended the door another hairsbreadth. Nothing. Abruptly, she pushed the door out all the way.

No shots fired.

Carefully, Marge tiptoed out of the closet, into the open. First, she located the security camera. It was mounted over the white board, aimed at the teacher’s desk. Figuring for a certain amount of camera view spread, she knew which surrounding areas to avoid.

Another step forward.

The lack of standard windows in the room was a good thing. True, she couldn’t see out, but no one could see in either. A hint of moonlight streaked in from the upper windows, silverplating the empty desks and chairs. She turned on the penlight and shone it around the room.
Nothing unusual. She held out the palm of her hand, giving Lauren a wait sign, casing the room to ensure that they were alone. After a few moments, she turned off the penlight and beckoned Lauren forward. Together, they pressed on to the hallway, avoiding the security camera’s tattletale eye. Marge nudged the door a crack, then peered out into a dark corridor.

Nothing but stillness.

Motioning Lauren forward, they crept into the umbra, taking baby paces toward the bedrooms.

One step…two steps…three and four…

Marge pushed her arm against Lauren’s chest to stop her.

“Footsteps!” she whispered.

Pressing Lauren against the wall, Marge screened the young woman’s body with her own. She could feel Lauren’s rapid heartbeat, smell her sweat. Or maybe it was her own. Within seconds, a white-robed sentry appeared, staring into the grayness with vacant eyes—a malevolent ghost devoid of any comic-book charm. As the head turned in their direction, Marge didn’t give its eyes an opportunity to focus. She leaped out and slammed the butt of her gun into his solar plexis, then against his thick skull. Immediately, the guard went out. Marge caught him (the weight felt like a man) before he hit the ground. To Lauren, she ordered, “Check his pockets for a radio or walkie-talkie.”

Lauren rummaged through his clothes, then pulled out up a small box.

“Bring it into my line of vision.” Marge looked the apparatus over while holding the limp body. “Okay. You can leave it on. Just
don’t
press the red button. That will pick up our voices. Get his feet and we’ll carry him back to the closet.”

Lauren lifted the man by his ankles, but stared at the face. “This is Brother Ansel. He’s one of those who does purification duty—a first-class asshole.”

Marge nodded, feeling better that she had cold-cocked
a first-class asshole. Carefully, they carried him into the empty classroom, again taking measures to avoid the security monitor.

Elise stared at the lifeless bulk of flesh. “Is he dead?”

“Don’t think so.” Marge laid the body on the closet floor, and checked for a pulse. Strong. And he was also breathing. She examined the depression in his skull. It was thick with blood, but not spurting. “He’ll recover, but he’s going to have one hell of a headache.”

Elise said, “After I tape and tie him, I’ll bandage the wound.”

Marge handed her the squawk box. “His name is Brother Ansel. He’s in charge of torture. He’s an asshole.”

Elise said, “So if someone calls in, I’m a torture freak named Brother Ansel.”

“You’ve got it,” Marge said. “C’mon, Lauren. Now that he’s out, we’ve got to step on it.”

Again they made their way into the foyer, moving rapidly and quietly. Lauren stopped in front of a door. “This is where the teens sleep.”

“Boys and girls?”

Lauren nodded.

Marge raised her eyebrows. She opened the door, peeked inside. Eight beds, seven of which were filled with sleeping adolescents. No adult supervision. An ideal situation
if
no one went ballistic. To Lauren, she said, “Make them listen to you like you did when you were their teacher.”

Lauren was breathing rapidly, sweat streaming down her brow. She took a deep breath, then started with Vega, gently shaking her shoulders. The teen startled, then brightened.

“Sister Andromeda!” the girl shouted.

Lauren clamped her hand over Vega’s mouth. “Shhhhh!” She removed her hand and spoke. “Vega, this is an emergency. We’ve got to go now!”

The frail teen pushed black hair from surprised blue eyes. “Go where?” she whispered.

“No questions. You must trust me and follow me. And you
must
be very, very quiet.”

“But where are you going—”

“I said no questions!”

“Yes, Sister Andromeda.” Having displeased her elder, Vega looked crestfallen. Lauren softened her expression. “Vega, I’m counting on you to help me with the others.”

“I will help you, Sister Androm—” She stopped talking and stared at Marge. “Surely we are not going with the
violators
! Guru Bob said they might be coming to—”

“Vega, listen to me!” Lauren spoke quietly and with intensity. “If you don’t do as I say, terrible, terrible things will happen. People will die!”

“But Guru Bob says that death is a good thing. It means we will join Jupiter.”

Lauren bent down and gently held the girl by her face, looking deeply into her eyes. “This is going to be very hard for you to accept, my sweet Vega. But Guru Bob is
wrong
! Now it is up to you…who you choose to believe.
Bob
? Or
me
?”

Vega licked her lips. “I will follow you, Sister Andromeda.”

Lauren kissed her forehead. “Thank you, thank you. Now you must help me convince the others.” Methodically, she began to arouse the others—first four girls, then two boys. They were equally excited about Andromeda’s return, but also confused about what their teacher was asking them to do.

The oldest was a girl named Asa—brown eyes and curly red hair—a teen version of Little Orphan Annie. She said, “I trust you, Sister Andromeda, but we should not go without asking Guru Bob. This is not procedure. This is breaking vows and overstepping our bounds. It is also joining up with a violator.”

The others nodded in agreement.

Vega said, “I agree it is odd, what Sister Andromeda is telling us to do.”

An Asian boy of around thirteen piped in, his teeth wide and strong. His name was Orion. “Perhaps our Sister Andromeda has been corrupted by the violators. This is what Guru Bob has warned us against.”

Pointing the accusatory finger.

“I think this is a trap.”

They were running out of time. Talking at first in whispers, but the conversation, though still soft, was growing louder. Marge regarded Lauren with pleading eyes.

Do something!

But it was Vega who stepped forward, her voice growing in command. “Yes, she is a violator…one from the corrupt outside. But I assure you that
she
is not corrupt. She is a dreamer like our most holy Father Jupiter. A traveler of the stars of imagination.”

“How do you know?” asked Asa.

“I have talked to her.” A tear streamed down Vega’s cheek. “She understands our most beloved book—
The Little Prince
. She has read it in French.”

Looks of admiration. Vega straightened her spine. “I shall
go
follow our teacher, Sister Andromeda. I will trust her. I will go with the violator because I have read her heart. I suggest that all of you do the same. But if anyone should choose to stay, please…I beg of you…do not divulge Sister Andromeda’s secret.”

A long pause. Then Orion said, “Our Father Jupiter was an explorer of different worlds. So shall I be an explorer. I shall preach his word in the sphere of the violator.” He stood up. “I will join up, too.”

Asa was the next to agree to come with them.

With three down, the others followed with scant protest. Marge told them to put their robes over their pajamas, then peered down the hallway.

Empty.

“Quietly and quickly,” she said.

She lined them up and took them back to the empty classroom. Once inside the closet, away from the camera’s lens, she began tying ropes around their waists. Their blind obedience to authority turned out to be their best asset. To Lauren, she said, “You go first, they’ll follow with Elise bringing up the rear—”

“But with all those people in the tunnel, the oxygen will be used up quickly.”

“Lauren, time’s our worst enemy. We’ve got to take a chance. The kids have meditated. Tell them to breathe slowly and deeply.” Without hesitation, Marge held out her canister of oxygen. “In emergencies, use this.”

Lauren was reticent. “What about you?”

“I’ve got a good set of lungs,” Marge said. “Least that’s what all the boys used to say. Now go!”

Vega asked, “Are you going to take the other children with you?”

“As soon as you all have made it to safety.”

“Then I shall stay behind and help you.”

Marge looked at Vega, holding her fragile shoulders, which were attached to a
determined
young lady. “If you do that, you may not make it.”

“Correct,” Vega answered. “But it is a chance I shall take. I am not afraid of death. But I am afraid of neglecting my duty. As our Father Jupiter stated many times, duty is paramount. Now my duty is to you. And you will need help to convince the children.”

“Let’s move it,” Elise said. “The rescue team should be coming within the hour. If we miss the reconnaissance group, we’re screwed.”

“All right, Vega,” Marge said. “You can stay with me.”

“Correct.”

To Lauren, Marge said, “As soon as you can, come back and help me with the younger ones.”

A muffled groan came from under a blanket. Brother Ansel was joining the present world. Marge kicked the
bundle, and all was quiet. One of the kids asked about the noise.

Lauren said, “It is our Father Jupiter giving us words of encouragment. Let’s go.”

Vega tried to reassure her friends. “This is our first adventure into space. We shall make it positive and scientific and full of spirituality. Always remember our Father. Let us meditate and pray.”

“To our Father Jupiter and his eternal spirit,” Orion joined in.