The Hunt for Pierre Jnr (33 page)

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Authors: David M. Henley

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Hunt for Pierre Jnr
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You could feel that way on an island.

 

I’d like to go camping.

 

~ * ~

 

Arthur, Pete, Risom, Gock and the ten had been ambling through the bush for eight days. The twins were left behind at the mouth of the valley, where Sullivan, presumably, had hidden the old hover. They waited ready to ambush, in case the fugitive tried to escape.

 

Ten had the search team maintain a strict pattern, making sure Arthur covered as much territory in one day as was possible while the rest of the team took their symbs and close-range camera flies with them to look for signs of habitation.

 

The ten were dressed in soft armour. This area was meant to be pristine and a squad of MUs would make a trail and a lot of noise. The men seemed happy out of their suits with nothing but the arms and shoulders sheathed.

 

Everyone’s symbs were plugged with data and procedures to review. Topographic maps and recorded fly-throughs, including an index of the local plant and wildlife.

 

The trees were too tall for a squib flyover to get Arthur close enough to detect anything. So far he had detected nothing. They followed a clean creek, thinking that at least Sullivan must need water to survive.

 

Rations were air-dropped to them each day. They only had to carry water and equipment. Each night they camped out, finding a gap in the tree canopy for supplies to be dropped down and where the embers from the fire didn’t rise into the branches.

 

The camp was organised with the psis in the centre by the campfire and the ten in a protective ring around them. There wasn’t much chatter. Even the soldiers seemed content to watch the fire and the smoke rise up to the stars.

 

They were far enough from Seaboard, the megapolis of the east Australian coast, that the stars came out and put on a show every night. The Milky Way was spilt across the sky as though a child had been playing with glitter and meteors, and space trash scratched the sky often enough to keep them watching. The closer layer of dots that traced over the sky was the ‘rocky road’ of the satellite layer.

 

Since Arthur’s capture, the Prime had had him worked over by a psychologist and was medicating him to keep him calm. Even so, being around him for more than five minutes allowed his mood to affect everyone in the group. It was a good thing he was enjoying the outdoors.

 

Peter wondered if this peace was the result of being near Arthur when he was in a good mood or from the nature-effect he had heard some of the soldiers thinking about: the sounds of the bush, the thick crick of insects, the carrying buzz of cicadas. Both Pete and Arthur found it unfamiliar, but only the latter was calmed by it.

 

I am. Thank you. I didn’t want to come, but you made me.

 

I am sorry we collected you so roughly.

 

I know, Peter. I know.

 

You’re the most sensitive I’ve ever met.

 

I was touched by him. Like you were. He changed you too.

 

Pete couldn’t help reacting: his eyes widened and he looked at the back of Arthur’s head. Arthur did not turn around — he was doped enough or smart enough. Gock would know they were communicating.

 

Don’t worry so much. You should presume they assume.

 

I can’t trust them.

 

Nobody can trust anybody.

 

Can I trust you?

 

You can try.
 Arthur was slightly amused. 
I’m sorry. I haven’t felt this good in years. Do you think they’ll let me stay out here
?

 

Not very likely.

 

~ * ~

 

On their ninth day, as they were tracking further into the valley, Arthur’s arm raised and pointed forward. He himself didn’t look where his finger went, he kept his head down.

 

‘What is it, Grimaldi?’ Ten asked.

 

‘There is something.’

 

The squad went active on Ten’s signal. The insect sounds were interrupted by hums and chimes as they powered up their weapons. It was like an orchestra warming up, each member starting their instrument and ramping to check its sanctity, before they even began putting them on.

 

Following Arthur’s pointed arm, they went another hundred metres before one of the team found a trash pile behind a small rise.

 

They circled around, surveying and recording the area. The small pile seemed to be compost. Food scraps were dotted inside a yard of turned earth. Up the hill a short way was a path of chipped shale that led to an overhang. A quick peek with a drone showed that the rock pile concealed a natural tunnel entrance. Arthur’s finger was pointing directly at it.

 

‘What have you got in there, Arthur?’

 

‘There is a man.’

 

‘Is it St Clare?’ Ten asked.

 

‘H-he may not be alone,’ Arthur stammered.

 

What is it, Arthur?

 

I don’t know. His mind is
 —

 

‘Is it him?’ Ten insisted.

 

‘I can’t be sure. Whoever it is, is odd.’

 

‘Let’s give it a wait. See what happens.’

 

~ * ~

 

An hour passed in which the team held their position and communicated through symb only. They discussed contingencies. It was ‘a job for ups’, but Ten let the team indulge themselves. How deep do the caves go? What if it isn’t Sullivan? What if Pierre is in there?

 

The command came down on the last tick of the hour.

 

‘Okay. Let’s go in.’ Ten picked the odds — Nine, Seven, Five, Three and One — and they prepared themselves to go in. From their packs they pulled out stick-on lumens and placed them on their foreheads, the undersides of their wrists and the sides of their boots.

 

‘Drop a booster before you go too deep. We don’t want to lose contact.’ Ten read through a stream of orders that were duplicated in their symb mission overlays. ‘You don’t have dead man’s handles so if you feel anything out of the ordinary, if you think anything out of the ordinary, if you sense anything that isn’t there, or even if your imagination goes hyperactive, report it through your symb.’

 

Each order was met with a co-ordinated, ‘Yes, sir.’

 

‘Nine, ping me every two metres. Everyone go silent.’

 

In normal operation mode the marauders let off occasional compression sounds, mechanical ticks and the whirr and flex of their actuators. Now they flicked to a dampened stealth mode that made them perfectly silent.

 

‘Alright, good luck.’

 

The odds saluted and went into the cave, Nine first.

 

Nine: We are just beyond the opening. No movement. Floor looks scuffed. There is a crevice at the east rear. We should be able to get through.

 

Outside, the rest of the squad waited. Arthur paced back and forth. Pete could feel his peace becoming unsettled.

 

Pete to Ten: Arthur’s meds aren’t coping with the stress.

 

Nine: We are through the crevice. It is a scrape, but it opens up after three metres. This room has signs of habitation. Boxes and crates, some farming tools. We are dropping the first booster.

 

Ten: Be alert. The canary has a bad feeling.

 

Nine: Received. There is a path leading deeper, on the southern end. Nothing moving. We’ll take a look ... Getting pretty tight here ... I’m through. There is a big cavern. No movement. The lumens don’t reach the far side. There are shelves of mushroom beds. I’m moving forward.

 

The link to Nine went static.

 

Ten: Seven, can you still pick up Nine? We’ve lost signal.

 

Seven: Sir, no —

 

Ten: Five, pull back. Pull back.

 

Five: One, reverse. Ten, I’m just through to the big cave. I can’t see Nine or Seven —

 

The lines went dead one by one.

 

‘Ten? What just happened?’

 

‘I lost contact with half my team, telepath. That’s what happened,’ Ten said harshly. He was busy sending messages to Nine and to the ups for emergency orders.

 

Ten: Nine? Report in, Nine. Odds, backtrack immediately. We have lost signal.

 

He cursed.

 

‘What do we do now?’ Pete asked.

 

They all felt the fear. It had begun to permeate them. Ten stared down at his shaking hands while the Command came in.

 

‘Four, I want you to take Grimaldi back to this morning’s camp. He’s freaking me out.’

 

‘Yes, sir.’ Arthur was only too happy to go along. He didn’t want to be anywhere near that cave.

 

I don’t know what’s down there
, he warned Pete.

 

‘I say we send Gock down with a rope around his waist. Use him as bait,’ Risom suggested. Gock gulped and begged off.

 

‘I’ll go,’ Pete volunteered. ‘If it is a psi down there, I’m the best one to try dealing with it.’ The Prime sent a message to his symb, reminding him he was watching.

 

Ten and Two were assigned to go with him. Pete raised his block and put on a helmet and mantle designed for caving, then stuck the lumens on as Ten instructed.

 

Their bright glow cut the dark of the tight tunnel, though the shadows managed to fight back from behind overhangs, stalactites and every sharp change of direction. They passed the outer room and went one by one through the crevice.

 

Ahead they could see the light from the transmission booster, its per-second red flashes bumping the walls as it ticked. In the second cavern they saw the boxes and tools the first team described. Higher up the cave were hanging pots of lichen and moss.

 

On the south wall was the dark crack the odds had gone through.

 

Ten: Odds. Report. Is there anyone receiving? Check in.

 

The big leader waved for Peter to come closer. ‘Their symbs are ten metres in the direction of that opening. Are you picking up anything?’

 

‘There is something there. I can’t even be sure it is human.’

 

Ten: I’ll go first. Two, you take the rear.

 

A few metres into the opening the tunnel stooped down and they crouched and duck-walked through. Ten saw the feet of one of his men lying before him and he scrambled quickly out.

 

Ten: I see Three. Man down —

 

His messaging was interrupted by his own screaming and Ten collapsed to the rock floor. Pete and Two rushed in, the soldier firing beams into the dark without aiming. Then he too was rolling on the floor, clutching at his helmet before he vomited inside it.

 

Pete grabbed some flash pellets from his belt and overdosed the room with bang and light. The screaming of the soldiers turned to whimpers and panting, and he wiped the room with his torch until he saw a thin nook on one side. Enough for a man to slip through.

 

He could feel him now. Whoever it was had been dazed by the light assault and the sound had deafened him. He lived in a cave after all; nothing but quiet and dark. Pete threw more flash into the gap, turning his head away to protect his vision, and then rushed forward, grabbing at the pale arms and ribby body.

 

Pete dragged him out of his hole, into the light of the big cave. The eyes were animal and pinched by the brightness. His symb confirmed that it was Sullivan St Clare and Pete didn’t hesitate to pull a mask from his kit and slap it over the feverish visage.

 

~ * ~

 

The squad explored and recorded the caves while Sullivan was being transported to a secure facility that was quickly being stacked together in the red mudflats in the centre of the continent — what had once been desert was now slowly drowning with the relentless bombardment of rain.

 

Deep in the side of the mountain they found hydroponic chambers filled with mesh plants and mushrooms.

 

‘Not exactly a balanced diet,’ Geof commented, his voice transmitting directly to Pete’s ears.

 

Pete found a desk which was stacked with papiers, in dire need of repair and recharging. He prodded through a few slides, charts, notated tables of data.

 

‘I don’t think it was food he was interested in.’ He held up a diary with annotations about what he had taken and the effect it had on his abilities. ‘Do you think there is anything in this?’

 

‘Okay, everybody out once you’ve got the lights up. I want to keep the site as clean as possible.’ Geof sent through the command.

 

Geof: Ten, there is a box of sylus being dropped. I want you to plant one in each cave. Only you.

 

Pete had to read from Ten what a sylus was. Something like a symbiot in composition and function but free-roaming and self-powered. Geof was using them to get a complete scan of the cave system.

 

‘I think you’re right, Peter. The quick screen shows hallucinogens in the fungi. We’ll just let the sylus do a crawl and compile, then we’ll know more.’

 

Pete: What should I do?

 

Geof: I want you to interview. Take the line coming down on the drop. The facility is nearly complete.

 

~ * ~

 

The compound they set up for Sullivan was similar to the one Pete had recuperated in, though smaller. It had only one capsule and a landing pad. Armed servitors made a laser fence fifty metres around.

 

Geof had the builders clear the area, leaving only bots on site, when Pete touched down and debarked. The squib immediately lifted off, leaving Pete and Sullivan the only mammals in the compound.

 

Pete: Is all this really necessary?

 

Geof: Unknowns have become a bit of a thorny issue. The Prime had to manage a lot of complaints from the Services personnel who held Arthur.

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