we’re within the perimeter.”
“What if the sentries are crawling all over the complex?” Sun Ra asked.
Cap shook his head. “Too dangerous even for Dandridge, I suspect.
What if they put a piece of equipment down and walked away from it? Look at the statues—there seems to be a distinct starting line twenty yards from the mouth of the cave and an end zone about twenty yards inside.”
“Let’s go,” Rock said, “before they get inside!”
Cap stepped out first, boldly walking over to the line of men and insinuating himself between the first and the second. They tramped far enough apart that this was possible without tripping them up. If any of the zombies noticed him, they gave no reaction. He matched his stride to theirs and signaled the others to join him. First Tex, then Sun Ra, and finally Rock stepped into the gaps between the slaves. Rock positioned his massive body behind the last slave, the only place he fit safely.
They watched with interest as they crossed the invisible perimeter. The silver floor of the cavern turned whitish and unreflective at the entrance of the first worker. Cap’s advance caused no alarm or sudden attack.
They shuffled in at the slow, unchanging pace of the zombies and made their way past the horrifying garden of the dead. Every one of the metalized corpses bore a visage of dread and stark terror. Their deaths came slowly enough—they saw their end coming and it showed in their death masks.
The statues marked a very definite end to the defense zone. Beyond the last preserved body, the cavern floor possessed a semi-glossy look. The passage of the zombie crew caused no reaction. Tex breathed an audible sigh of relief when his feet touched the white flooring.
A few yards beyond that, Cap and the others broke away from the line of cargo handlers and stopped to survey their surroundings.
The interior of the cave formed a gigantic silver dome, braced along the interior in the manner of a geodesic dome, but with the same sort of fractal isogrid construction in which the pentagons and hexagons composing the structure each comprised smaller five- and six-sided polygons. Those polygons surrounded even smaller polygons and so on, presumably down to the molecular level. It gave the dome a look of almost spherical smoothness.
Tunnels radiated out from the dome at regular intervals around its circumference. Odd, crystalline overhead lights illuminated some while others extended into darkness. Iris-like doorways sealed some corridors shut while others lay wide open, and formidable hatched closed off three on the far side.
Scores of zombies milled about the interior of the chamber, performing tasks that microbots could not. They worked mostly on moving cargo from place to place with silent, unthinking dedication.
Cap pointed to one of the many hatchways dotting the bottom edge of the dome. “That one,” he said. “Let’s get through it.”
“Why?” Rock asked.
“It’s the only one with a surveillance camera above it.”
Sun Ra unholstered his pistol. “Shall I shoot it out?”
Cap raised his hand and shook his head. “Just keep close to the wall.”
The door Cap singled out stood a third of the way around the vast dome. Sticking closely to the perimeter, the four moved slowly toward their goal. Cap watched the camera to make sure it did not rotate toward them. It seemed to be mounted in a fixed position, pointing downward to view anyone approaching the hatchway.
Cap reached the door first and signaled to Paine. With a grin, Sun Ra sighted in on the camera and fired a single shot. Inside the massive cavern, the report sounded dull and muted, as if the dome had absorbed the sound and dampened any echoes.
The camera blew to bits.
Cap examined the locking mechanism, a simple touch pad similar to a telephone. Withdrawing a screwdriver from one of his many vest pockets, Cap removed the pad from the wall. Rock and Tex kept watch for any suspicious movements from the zombies. Some of them walked within a few yards of the four, but none noticed the trespassers.
Cap hotwired the door. It rippled open fluidly from the center as oil floating on water retreats from a droplet of soap.
That impressed even Captain Anger. “Door-microbots that assemble and disassemble.” Then he shook his head. “Dandridge could have made a fortune with these inventions. Instead, he’s made the choices that bring us
to end his career.”
The same argent material as the dome formed the corridor and curved away toward a stairway a few feet from the entrance. The air smelled of ozone, acid, and solvents. Cap took a step in, but Sun Ra seized him by the arm.
“Cap—what if this tunnel has a defense barrier, too?”
The copper-haired man shook his head. “Once inside a fortress, it’s inefficient and dangerous to put deadfalls and booby traps everywhere. Dandridge is too smart to put himself in mortal danger every time he strolls around here.” He moved a foot toward the threshold.
“What if,” Rock suggested, “Dandridge has own implant to tell his creatures to stay away?”
The captain smiled. “Whom would he trust to implant it? More accurately, does a man such as Dandridge trust even his own creations?”
Tex spoke up. “Didn’t y’all call him—and I quote—’dangerously mad’?”
Cap stared at Tex for a moment, then put his foot down on the deck of the corridor. Nothing happened.
“Let’s go,” he said. Sun Ra, pistol still in hand, joined him. Rock and Tex drew their pistols and followed, Tex bringing up the rear.
As they silently approached the stairway they heard it—an inhuman moan that rose to a wail and fell again, like waves of despair on a sea of dread.
Chapter Fifteen
Target Practice
Jonathan Madsen stared at the strange contraption in the cargo hatch.
Leila threw a switch on the instrument panel and they both watched the device flip up from beneath a plate in the titanium flooring. At one end of the black and blockish four foot long box was a small hole, around which a circle of inward-pointing arrows had been painted in canary yellow, with the simple yet understated notice DANGER printed in the same color neatly below.
Four thick tubes wrapped in shiny gold-hued insulation entered the left
side of the box and exited the right side. The top of the box sported a large and impressive-looking telescopic sight. Below it sat a smaller black tube marked with a laser trefoil.
Johnny—at Leila’s suggestion—stood behind the weapon and studied the control panel.
“These are the cooling pumps,” she said, flipping up four switches.
From beneath the deck of the gently rocking Seamaster arose the sound of small compressors. The golden tubes feeding into the railgun grew frosty with condensation. “This is the main power switch.” She turned a dial halfway. Johnny felt a tingle in the air around him. “And this is the laser sight. Forty watts, so don’t even get near it.” She put her left hand on the left grip and pulled the trigger, then stretched to put her right hand out in front of the laser. A dazzlingly bright red spot blazed on her ivory-white palm.
“It feels warm. If I left my hand there long enough, I could actually get burned. And it would definitely blind you if you looked into it.” Her tone grew steadily more enthusiastic as she spoke about the weapon. “The laser’s
