Photon fire rippled on the canyon walls around them, raking the stern rail, almost capsizing the battered L-Doraxu which trailed smoke and fire.
Miko firmed his upper lip. He sent a searing ray out from the rear cannon. One of the enemy ships exploded in a fan of flames. “Take that, you bastard.” Burning hull fragments smashed on the canyon wall and the smoking core rolled in a clattering heap.
No sooner had Miko dispatched the enemy when more Zikri targeted them from above: a torus and two lighter orbs, dropping into the canyon like predatory wraiths. Miko’s heart jumped into his throat. He swore a stray Doraxu was on their tail as well, firing wantonly, killing the Zikri pursuers. One of the orbs went up in flame. Sket? But how? He saw Fenli’s and Sket’s crafts hurtling planetside on a distant tangent. Then again, anything was possible in this firewasp nightmare.
The last of the Zikri vessels fishtailed under rearfire and went crashing to its doom. The locust vessel in close pursuit was nowhere to be seen.
Miko coughed in relief through the dense smoke that coiled in the bridge.
Through bleary eyes he saw the cliff of the shadowy gorge rise high to one side, and etched into its surface, scores of squat, oval holes: honeycomb entrances gaping like fisheyes under the dim light of the fading sun. What could that be? Spiked platforms of metal jutted out at the base of many of the openings like landing pads. One of the larger entrances, high above the canyon floor, loomed closer. A massive air duct? An entrance into some sort of hidden world within the mountain?
“Into that vent,” directed Miko.
“It’s not a vent, it’s a cave,” Laren cried. “Networks of them.”
“Whatever it is! In!” cried Miko.
Usk needed no prompting. He guided the wounded ship into the haven, through a strange, gaping orifice that hung several hundred feet above the desert floor below.
The opening widened, then darkened, as light from the entranceway dimmed. What looked an ancient complex carved out the rock became something more mysterious. Grey command modules, some product of intelligent life, flanked the aisles. The passage kept on straight ahead. A light flickered behind them. The spotlights of a pursuing craft?
Miko cursed.
The ship rocked and jerked along while Usk struggled to control its erratic movements and bring it to a safe speed. The hull grazed off the floor and sheared off plates. It pushed its way through a crudely-carved underground complex. At places, tall, dome-like caverns yawned above them: like cathedrals of ancient stone, at other times the passage narrowed to a forgotten corridor barely wide enough for entry. Miko saw consoles and electrical panels, and strange writings and figures carved into the walls, as if the passage had spanned many ages, from the primitive to the modern. After one bend in the tunnel, a mass of twisted wire and metal stood, along with shredded coils, barrel-shaped solenoids, circuit boxes with innards spewn, obviously blasted in some previous skirmish.
The engines gave a nasty sputter, a rusty whine, then died. The hull’s underbelly raked on stone, skittered to a halt, sparks flying on all sides.
Miko’s neck jarred and his body whipped back.
A hiss of gas came from the cargo port; a faint klaxon beeped in some redundant danger signal of hull breach.
Miko shook the grogginess out of his skull. He peered about, blinking the stars out of his vision. The others stirred, groaned, and struggled to get out of their harnesses.
Laren had a great gash over his forehead. He stumbled to his feet, grunting in confusion, clearly in pain. Miko helped Star out of her restraining straps, coughing from the smoke, his leg stiff and bleeding from a suppurating cut on his knee. No broken bones. But already the air was thinning, getting harder to breathe with that and the smoke.
Usk jerked to his hind feet.
“Out!” Miko rasped, grabbing up a stun weapon from the cockpit and hustling them to the suit racks. “Into the suits! Sensors indicated the atmosphere is breathable, but barely. The ship is obviously leaking air. We can’t take a chance.”
“Out and what then?” croaked Star, nursing her scraped thigh and shoulder.
“We die,” intoned Laren.
XII
Faint echoes of a ship’s engines reverberated through the tunnels of stone. Miko heard a distant blast of laser fire, the cracking of stone walls, a whoosh of flames. Also a strange whistling. He darted his eyes back down the tunnel, turning up his helmet’s audio link. Pursuers were searching for them. Only a matter of time now.
Miko tapped the back of his glass bubble helmet. The air outtake valve must have jammed after the numerous assaults on the ship. He struck it again more forcibly, trying to stop the annoying whistling of expelled air. It began to function properly.
The outside temperature showed minus one degrees Celsius on the side tab of his helm’s display. He turned to Star. Thin jets of grey steam puffed from the nozzle at the back of her air unit. Usk struggled with his own helmet and a film of moisture grew on the faceplate from his heavy breathing.
Laren moved to switch on his headlamp, but Miko pulled his arm away. “Let’s make do without them. We don’t want the enemy sniffing us out. There’s some dim light coming from the tunnels we passed through.”
Laren nodded in agreement. They groped their way along the deserted passage, wandering deeper into the complex. Their light grey suits made small, swishing noises. The tunnel seemed naturally made, smoothed as if from ancient running water, but cut roughly in other places, as if from intelligent hands. The material appeared as a sort of hard limestone
