“Of course.”
“And TenSix?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t get yourself blown to bits.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”
As TenSix moved down the corridor back towards the four-way intersection, I shadowed him—staying a few meters behind.
“Easy,” I said. “Try to avoid exposing yourself.”
“I fully understand the concept of blaster trajectories, Jannigan Beck.”
As TenSix moved towards the corner, I glanced back to the southwest. I was still paranoid that the Mayir had circled around. But, fortunately, the tunnel was empty.
“So far, no sign of life larger than point two five kilograms.” TenSix said.
“That’s good.”
“But remember, I can only scan about one quarter of the tunnel segment.”
My hands tensed and I gripped my rifle tightly. TenSix levered his top scanning appendage out past the corner and was immediately rewarded with a blaster bolt—sizzling through the air and ricocheting down the tunnel perpendicular to us.
Shit!
Luckily, TenSix ducked back in time to avoid the blast, but it was close.
“You okay?”
“I am fine, but it appears my scan has been rendered unnecessary.”
“At least we know where he is. You did good.”
As far as I could tell, the blaster bolt had come from the direction we had last encountered the Mayir. I was right. He was hanging out, waiting for us to become complacent. Or overly curious.
I ran through the scenarios in my head, and decided that he’d probably come up fast, trying to reduce our lead.
“Let’s move it,” I told TenSix. “We need to put some distance between us and him.”
I jogged down the tunnel towards the next four-way intersection, with TenSix right on my tail. The narrow section at the halfway point did indeed cross a flood control channel, which was barely visible through a porthole.
“Something’s not right!” TenSix said. “I’m picking up an unusual energy signature—”
Before he could finish his thought, a loud grinding sound echoed throughout the tunnel and an immense pressure door crashed down a dozen meters in front of us.
“What the—?”
Our way was blocked!
“Quick,” I yelled. “Back to the intersection.”
But before we could get more than a few meters, another pressure door slammed down, cutting off our escape.
We were trapped.
Equal parts of adrenalin and rage surged through my body as I slammed my fists against the far door.
How could I have been so stupid? I just let myself be herded down into one of the mantraps.
“TenSix, scan the walls. Call up your schematic. Do everything you can to find us a way out!”
“On it!”
The section of tunnel we were trapped in stretched no more than two dozen meters. The walls were solid with no hatches or doors, except for the single hyaline porthole overlooking a flood control channel which ran perpendicular to this tunnel, and beneath it.
Frantically, I checked the floor and the ceiling, hoping to discover some kind of maintenance access panel. But other than the piping, ducts, and conduits—including the horrifying orange pipe—that ran throughout this entire underground area, the tunnel was empty. And, unfortunately, none of the ducts were big enough for me to fit through.
“Anything, TenSix?”
“Not yet. The only penetration through the tunnel appears to be the observation porthole on the northwest wall.”
“Keep looking!”
I wondered what had happened to the rest of the group. With any luck I had bought them enough time to escape. I just hoped to Dynark that they weren’t stuck in a mantrap of their own.
After another circuit of the tunnel, inspecting the walls, ceiling, and floor again, I returned to the porthole and peered out.
The channel below was filled with water and lit by a pair of utility lights that cast an eerie glow over the roiling surface.
My fingers felt their way around the perimeter of the porthole, seeking out some kind of release mechanism. There had to be a way out.
But if there was, I couldn’t activate it.
I hefted my KHG-S92. I wondered if there was any way I could blast through the porthole.
TenSix must have realized what I was thinking.
“That is three centimeters of solid hyaline,” he said. “You would need something considerably more powerful than a hand-held blaster to penetrate it.”
He was right. I’d need a D-beam cannon, or some kinetic torpedoes with plasma heads, or even a case full of thermal petards. But I had none of those.
I walked away from the porthole towards the pressure door at the far southwest end of the tunnel. This massive door was even thicker than the porthole and looked like it was probably made of catasteel. I wasn’t going to shoot through it either.
“TenSix, look for a manual override on this door.”
I was hoping there might be some way to open it from this side. Then I remembered what Grannt said about the mantraps. These doors weren’t meant to be opened from the inside.
A moment later, TenSix confirmed my suspicions. We were trapped by security doors. No override on the inside. At best, there might be a control panel on the other side.
That meant that we were stuck.
It was just a matter of time before the Mayir would return—probably with reinforcements. Then they’d open one of those doors and the whole squadron would take me out. Like shooting dust rats caught in a hydro reculacrum.
“Let’s go over this place again,” I told TenSix.
“I’m quite sure that I did not miss any human-sized openings.”
An idea came into my head. “What about bot-sized openings?”
TenSix seemed surprised by my request. “What are you thinking, Jannigan Beck?”
I moved closer to the cluster of pipes and conduits that ran through the tunnel. “I’m thinking that if there’s one of these ducts big enough for you to get through, you might be able to get one of these doors open from the other side.”
It didn’t take TenSix long to evaluate all the pipes. There was one that might work.
“Unless I am mistaken, this duct is part of the atmospheric processing system, specifically air exchanger system,” he said.
“Can you fit through it?”
“It depends. The outer diameter of the duct is roughly thirty centimeters. I can bend to approximately twenty-five. If the duct runs fairly straight, I should
