The Venusian Gambit (41 page)

“What did you have in mind, General?” Weatherby asked.

Diaz nodded at Shaila, who held her datapad in the palm of her hand and activated the holoprojector. A miniaturized layout of the clearing sprang forth. “We took the opportunity to do a little recon while you were rounding up the French. This pyramid is old and crumbling, but sensors say it’s structurally sound inside. Outside, it provides plenty of cover for snipers, and there are few cracks on the upper tiers where you could take cover if you needed to.

“So here’s the plan. We want to put one of the V-SEVs on the first tier up, above the door, and the second one actually blocking the door once we’re all inside. That creates a bottleneck that protects us and maximizes what real firepower we have. General Diaz can link the two mechs so that one fires while the other recharges lasers, so that we always have a laser going.

“We have one cannon left, and apparently we have alchemists who can make it sing,” Shaila said with a nod toward Anne and Philip. “I want to place that on the same tier as the V-SEV, preferably right between its legs so that the gun crew can use it for cover. Same idea…blast as many of them as possible. Ideally, the cannon can aim for whatever artillery the French roll in here, because if they bring any, this whole plan goes pear-shaped fast.”

Shaila then pointed to the upper tiers of the pyramid. “Your marines are used to firing from the tops, if I remember my naval history lectures. So we place your best shooters up higher, using the rubble up there as cover. They take out command-and-control, the officers, just like they would aboard ship. Again, if the French bring artillery, snipers need to focus on gun crews and help neutralize them fast. If the cannon are in place and start firing on the pyramid itself, our defense goes out the window and we all get buried.”

Another stream of chatter erupted from the Venusians. “The chiefs would like you to know that they are warriors, and do not hide behind stone. They will face their enemy in the open,” Elizabeth said. “So sorry, Commander.”

“Not at all,” Shaila smiled. “We want them to do their thing. We just need them to wait. Let the French march into the clearing and begin to assault the pyramid. Then, when the bulk of the French are inside, I need the chiefs to send their troops in from beyond the tree line and encircle the French as best they can. Pick them off at the edges and herd them toward the center so that there are more troops bumping up against each other than there are fighting any of us.”

Shaila tapped a few keys on her datapad to reenact her plan with the aid of holographics as Elizabeth translated. Suddenly, the Venusians started chattering amongst themselves and, a moment later, they were jumping up and down and making what could only be considered battle cries. “Much better,” Elizabeth confirmed.

“Good. We’re going to need you to get into some detail with them about avoiding line-of-fire,” Shaila said. She then noted the look on Elizabeth’s face. “Right. We need to explain to them how the laser and cannon will work so they don’t get in the way. Anyway, we think with this set-up, General Diaz can hold the clearing long enough for the rest of us to get in there and figure out what the French are doing, and stop them if possible.”

Weatherby turned to Diaz. “It seems a sound plan. Are you comfortable with sharing command with Lieutenant Cook, Madam General?”

Diaz raised an eyebrow at Weatherby and turned toward the obviously green lieutenant who had inherited command from his deceased superiors. “What’s your name again, Lieutenant?”

The young man, who looked barely out of his teens, straightened up and looked Diaz in the eye. “Lieutenant Samuel Cook, my Lady.”

“You understand, Lieutenant Cook, that this plan maximizes our assets and relies on coordination, and that your admiral here endorses it?” she asked in her best no-nonsense tone.

“Yes, my Lady,” Cook replied, slightly nervous now.

“All right then. I hope you take my suggestions under immediate advisement and decide quickly as to the merits. And you can just call me ‘General,’ since I’ve been fighting wars and commanding men for a good three-plus decades. We clear?”

“Quite so, General,” the young man said, saluting for good measure and seeming to be extraordinarily uncomfortable now.

Diaz turned to Weatherby. “I think we’re good.”

Weatherby could not help but smile. “So you shall have all our soldiers and cannon. Lieutenant St. Germain will remain at the gun so he may provide as much support as possible. If it is quite all right with you, I would ask that Elizabeth be placed inside your second vehicle, which I believe would be the safest place for her during the engagement.”

“Agreed. We can rig a speaker, too, so she can call out commands to the Venusians when the time’s right for them to pounce,” Diaz added. “She can keep her headset so she and I can chat beforehand.”

“Very well. I entrust her to your safekeeping. I…” Weatherby paused. “Well, I am sure I need not say more.”

This prompted a rare smile from Diaz. “I’ll take care of her as if she were my own, Admiral.”

Weatherby cleared his throat and regained his composure. “I thank you, General. And so that leaves the Lady Weatherby and Dr. Finch to accompany me into the pyramid, along with Gar’uk. I assume Commander Jain and Dr. Durand will be joining us?”

Shaila nodded. “We have the Emerald Tablet in a secure container. I assume we’ll want to bring
The Book of the Dead
as well.”

Finch looked alarmed at this. “Do we think it wise? Can we not secure them elsewhere? We’ve no idea what we may find below.”

Weatherby turned to Anne, who simply shrugged. “On the other hand, if these artifacts are the key to stopping whatever Cagliostro and Althotas have planned, we may miss a singular opportunity. It is an incredible risk either way,” she said.

Stephane stepped forward, his eyes somewhat glassy. “She’s right. Rathemas wants both these items. And he wants to be down there, but…I feel as though he’s afraid. That we’ve come further than he expected, maybe. That we’ll figure it out, whatever ‘it’ is. I think we should bring the book and tablet.

Weatherby hung his head for several moments before finally looking up at his companions. “Very well. We shall bring them. Anne, my love, you must carry the book, for I do not think it wise for either Finch or myself to carry it. I’m sorry.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “We all have our burdens in this, Tom. I am glad to take it now.”

He stared at her for what seemed an eternity before chaining his emotions once more and simply nodding at her. “Yes, very well then. Commander, I suggest you carry the Tablet. We will need you to keep a weather eye upon Dr. Durand as well. I will find two men we might bring with us for support. But that will have to do.”

Weatherby stood straight. “Thank you, all of you. We have much to attend to. General, if you please, begin your preparations. Everyone else, with me.

“And God save us all.”

CHAPTER 25

January 30, 2135
May 29, 1809

S
haila entered the pyramid through a decrepit, crumbling portal lined with inscrutable carvings. She expected to traverse a long corridor before getting into the center chamber, like the old pyramids of Egypt she visited as a schoolchild. Or the one on Mars, for that matter.

So when, after only five meters, she entered into a vaulted space—the hollow interior of the pyramid, buttressed and soaring—she gasped. It was as if the entire pyramid was hollowed out or inverted, with each outside step visible on the inside. An intricate network of buttresses kept the space free and clear, and there were some breathtakingly beautiful carvings—each several meters high—on many of the inverted steps.

“Who the hell built this?” she breathed. “It’s incredible!”

“Likely the Xan,” Finch replied, holding a lit torch aloft. “This is beyond the construction the Royal Geographic Society has documented on Mars. A shame the French were the first Earthmen to gain access here.”

Gar’uk clambered ahead with another torch, providing more light. The very top seemed to be open to the sky and covered by some form of cupola, bathing the grey stone in an overall greenish light. “Yes, from long ago,” he croaked. “When the others were here, when they brought war to our lands.”

Stephane stumbled as he entered the room, then cast his eyes higher. “Yes, the Venusians…they were part of the war long ago.”

Shaila turned back to him. “Stephane?”

He gave her a little smile. “Sorry. I saw a little of that when the lizard-people were examining me. It was…weird. But I could see the Martians and the Xan. They used the Venusians. Warriors, or slaves. Probably both.”

Weatherby and Anne entered last, with his two marines before him. “All quite interesting, no doubt, but I think it best that we try to find entrance to whichever part of this structure the Venusians have claimed for their memory vault. Conduct a search for anything in the walls and floor that may lead downward.”

The group spread out in the cavernous room. There were few structures inside, though the rather large altarpiece in the front—easily two meters high, now cracked and crumbling in the middle—definitely stood out. It was on a dais, and seemed to be the obvious place. Shaila and Stephane made their way over to it, with Finch in tow.

“This looks somewhat similar to what I saw in Egypt,” Finch said. “There was a trapdoor under the altar. Perhaps?”

The alchemist climbed the stairs to the altar and began searching around the base of it. Shaila could see more runes and sigils on it; unlike the carvings on Mars, there were no real images or pictures she could make out, though the stone was pretty weathered. She looked up to find that the altar was right above the opening atop the pyramid, and figured millennia of rain had a lot to do with the altar’s erosion.

“Yes! Here!” Finch called. “A small opening—even the Venusians would have to crouch down to enter!”

Shaila and Stephane came up behind him and saw a small hole in the ground, no more than a half-meter in diameter. It was surrounded by crumbled stones of various sizes. “Tight fit,” she said, pulling out her datapad and activating sensors. “Looks like it widens out a bit down there, but we don’t have a lot of leeway.”

Stephane pointed to the floor of the dais. “These are footprints, no? This must be the place. The French have been here.”

“All right then. Looks like we do the squeeze,” Shaila said.

Weatherby had Gar’uk go first, armed with a pistol to hold off any potential trouble while the rest of the group made their way inside. It took a few tries for Shaila to get through there with the Emerald Tablet in tow, but she managed to drag it behind her as she squeezed through a space about three meters long, sharply sloping downward behind the altar and dais.

And she ended up in a corridor no more than a meter and a half high. “I’m going to get claustrophobic quick,” she muttered, using her datapad as a flashlight to help with her footing. Stephane nearly collided with her on his way down, but soon everyone was huddled in the small, rough-hewn hallway.

“Onward,” Weatherby ordered quietly. “Weapons at the ready.”

Shaila drew a pistol, loaned by one of the marines above, and followed Gar’uk down the corridor. The stonework was very rough and looked to be hand-carved. There were no runes or features of any kind. She figured it was done by the Venusians after the Xan left—for whatever reasons they left in the first place.

After about forty meters of winding, gently sloping corridor, Gar’uk hissed and raised a claw. They all stopped, and the little Venusian pointed ahead. “I hear.”

A low hum seemed to permeate the walls at this point, though the source couldn’t be placed. Likewise, there seemed to be a faint light coming from ahead, though to Shaila it was barely discernible—it felt like a trick of the eyes. But she figured Gar’uk probably had better vision. At least, it seemed reasonable to presume that.

Shaila turned back toward Weatherby. “Plan?” she whispered.

“Gar’uk shall move ahead and provide us with reconnaissance,” Weatherby said. “The rest of us shall prepare for the worst. Finch, you and Lady Anne shall provide us with alchemical means of either distraction or subdual, while the rest of us ready ourselves for battle if need be.”

It took the little Venusian little more than a few minutes to scurry forward and report back. There were but three men in the chamber—two older gentleman and a French officer. Unfortunately, there were also a dozen
Corps Éternel
soldiers therein.

“Very well, then. I assume a typical working to simply stun adversaries will not be effective against the revenants?” Weatherby asked Anne.

It was Finch who responded, however. “Typically, yes, but I believe I can create an admixture that would have the same effect on the revenants without harming the living. If I can have but a moment, I—”

The admiral cut him off with a sharp gesture. “No, Doctor. Your workings with regard to revenants and your other researches are part and parcel of this. We shall not meddle in these matters any longer. Lady Anne?”

Looking perplexed, she looked at both Weatherby and Finch. “I do not know whether this proposed working will actually touch upon the forces of
Maat
as others have,” she said slowly. “Perhaps there is merit to this. If Dr. Finch may take a moment to explain—”

“No!” Weatherby hissed. “I will not chance it. Prepare an alchemical fog, then, that will mask only the doorway. Then we attack. Make ready.”

Finch turned to Shaila with a helpless look, but all she could do was shrug. It was obvious at this point that Finch had used up whatever trust Weatherby had in him, but she was far from being an expert on 19
th
century alchemy. Instead, she drew her pistol and motioned for Stephane to stay put. There were at least eleven combatants in the room ahead, and only Weatherby, Shaila and the two marines were armed.

That is, until she saw Anne produce a sword as well. Shaila was about to speak up when she remembered Anne’s skill from their battles on Mars.
Hell, she’s probably better with it than I am.