26

 

After four nights of digging, they had covered fifty feet. It was not easy going: there was more stone in this area and the soil was loose—the tunnel therefore more liable to collapse. They also had no material left to bolster the structure with.

But their spirits could not have been higher, and the prospect of actually reaching the surface spurred every one of them on. Erras and the hulking Trantis outperformed everyone to such a degree that when Cerrin and Sadi took their turn after them, they knew theirs would be the last session of work.

Cerrin was first down, and she steadied the rope while Sadi lowered herself from the original tunnel. The line was anchored inside and could be withdrawn out of sight when they didn’t need it. Though she’d said nothing, Cerrin knew this was largely pointless: any significant search would have revealed their presence. Though they’d tried to cover their tracks on the near side of the old machine, on the far side was a volume of waste earth that would betray the operation in an instant. Yet it seemed they were safe. The Vitaari never came this way, and Cerrin prayed that would continue for just a few more days.

Once Sadi was down, they hurried to the new second tunnel.

The pair clambered over the rusty machine and trudged through the waste soil. Cerrin took the trowel and bucket from inside, handing the bucket to Sadi. She then turned on the flashlight—which was now mounted on a head strap—and dived straight in. The best way to ascend was a rhythmic crawl, during which the diggers would inevitably encounter crawling insects, awkwardly placed stones and increasingly stale, bitter air.

After a few minutes, she reached a key marker. Two days previous, Kannalin had clanged his trowel against the foundations of the mine wall. He—and the others—had feared it might set off some kind of alarm, but nothing happened. Other than an enforced horizontal detour, the structure caused them no further problems: in fact, negotiating it provided another boost to morale.

Having checked that Sadi was behind her, Cerrin ploughed on until she reached the end. After a quick swig of water from the bottle in the pocket of her overalls, she jabbed the trowel in and tore out a clump of earth.

 

 

To her disappointment, it was Sadi who made the final break-through. Cerrin had just returned with an empty bucket when the Palanian turned and threw something back at her. Cerrin’s flashlight illuminated a handful of fine white roots and green stems: grass.

Employing the usual technique, Sadi was pressed up against the left side of the tunnel. Cerrin crouched below her, watching as more and more grass appeared. Sadi hauled herself further up, then dropped the trowel so she could tear the vegetation away. After a time, she stopped and whispered.

“By the Maker. Stars.”

Cerrin crawled up beside her.

There they were. Two tiny bright dots visible through the small hole.

“Flashlights,” warned Cerrin.

They both turned them off and lay there together in silence. After a while, Cerrin realized Sadi was crying. She said nothing but used the time to keep working until they could see more sky and there was enough space for her to poke her head out.

The clean, fresh scent of the air was almost overpowering. She could hear some kind of animal moving about close by. She turned and looked up. The dark wall of Mine Three looked impossibly high, lights blinking on top. She looked back down the slope. Cloud was currently obscuring the moon so she couldn’t make out the river. But she could hear it, or at least she thought she could.

I could go now. I could go right now.

The thought came out of nowhere. The river lilies would be past their best, but with this much of a start she could swim across. By the time the Vitaari got moving, she would be in the forest and safe.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Sadi.

Cerrin cast the notion aside, almost ashamed by it. She lowered herself back down into the tunnel. “Let’s get finished.”

 

 

Sonus needed one more piece of information. He’d spent some time up on the surface working on the maintenance drones and had picked up certain facts from Arkus, Kadessis, and the guards. He knew the Viceroy was visiting in three days’ time and he would attend Mine Fourteen in early morning. This was fortunate; it meant he could infiltrate the armory in darkness, then make his escape.

He would have to do so before the guards entered to ready the combat shells; they invariably put on a show of force for a prestigious visitor. He could then disable the other vehicles and hopefully be in the air before the guards could stop him. But where would the Viceroy be then? Could he get to him before the element of surprise was lost and more Vitaari were sent to hunt him down?

Despite his best efforts, Sonus still did not know the visitor’s precise movements. What he did know was there was an itinerary and he needed to see it. With midday approaching and only one more cleaning drone left to service, time was once again running out. For all he knew, there would be no more opportunities.

He closed the access panel of the penultimate drone, wiped coolant off his hands and looked at the tower. While waiting for Kadessis there, he’d observed that the guards kept a single data-pad on a rack just inside the doorway. He imagined it provided orders or updates. (His damaged data-pad seemed incapable of receiving such information.)

Though in previous times, the tower guard—or guards—would occasionally wander off, under Talazeer’s regime they did not stray far. Seeing the single man was still in position, Sonus grimaced. He couldn’t think of any other way to access a data-pad: there were no engineers in the yard today and the building was locked up.       

The Vitaari was tapping a finger against the side of his rifle, staring up at the clear blue sky.

Though he had already been through numerous ideas, Sonus considered his limited alternatives again. Kadessis—who would probably check in on him soon—usually kept his data-pad in a sleeve attached to his belt. Sonus supposed he could ask to use it, but he was yet to come up with a convincing explanation.

The drone he had been working on beeped. He looked down and saw a message appear on the screen. Now repaired, the robot was asking for work.

A moment later, Sonus walked out of the yard.

 

 

The Vitaari watched him approach, face glistening in the wintry sunlight, dark eyes implacable. Sonus had recognized him from his finger-tapping habit. He didn’t know his name but recalled he was not one of the most aggressive guards, not by a long way.

Sonus ran a hand through his newly trimmed hair, having visited Orani the previous evening. He then clasped both hands together and bowed low. “Excuse me, sir.”

The guard clicked his translator on. “What is it?”

“I’ve been repairing the cleaning drones, and now I have to program them. I was instructed to ensure they are able to do a final sweep of the compound just before the visitors arrive.” Sonus felt it sensible not to specifically mention the Viceroy. “I believe they’re coming sometime in the morning—do you know exactly when?”

“08:00, I think.”

An hour after dawn.

“Ah.”

“Mine Five first, then here.”

“I see. Thank you. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it, sir? Very clear. Sometimes I wonder if your gods can see you here—so far from home.”

The guard frowned, then pointed at the yard. “You should get back to it.”

Sonus bowed once more, then hurried away. His hope was that the guard would remember the strange comment, not what had gone before.

As he entered the yard, numbers filled his mind. He had quite a few calculations to make.

 

 

Cerrin’s day passed with grinding, suffocating slowness. Where previously she had been scared the escape plan would be discovered, now she was terrified. The path to freedom was open, and yet she and the others found themselves working like any other day. They had not yet agreed when they would go, but Cerrin was determined to leave no later than the following night.

By the evening—when she visited Sadi’s compartment under the pretense of examining the knee the Palanian had twisted earlier—she reiterated her intention.

As they were surrounded by people preparing for bed, Sadi whispered her reply. “We’re not ready.”

“But you have the flares.”

Yarni had pilfered four from a supply depot within the mine. They were usually used by the Vitaari for marking drilling areas but—according to Sadi—they were the easiest method of igniting fuel. Whoever set them off would be at great risk but, if correctly situated, the resulting blasts could cause considerable damage.

“That’s not all we need,” added Sadi. “What about these weapons you promised us?”

Unless the Vitaari were very slow to react, the escapees would probably have to defend the tunnel or the others while they crossed the river. Cerrin’s idea was to turn a collection of wooden stakes she’d found behind Block B into spears. She had sharpened one of the trowels to do so but hadn’t had time to fashion them. In truth, they would be next to useless when facing the Vitaari—with or without the shells—but Cerrin reckoned she and the others would all feel better with a weapon in their hands.

“I’ll get to work on them tonight. Kannalin said he’ll help me. But we go tomorrow.”

“Cerrin, we haven’t even established who’s doing what.”

“That’s easy enough. We—”

Sadi looked up. The broad figure of Trantis was blocking out most of the light.

“What’s going on?” he said loudly.

“Knee,” answered Sadi.

The big Palanian knelt in front of her and pretended to examine it. “Another message from our friends,” he said quietly. “This man at Mine Three will attack at dawn in three days’ time. They want us to start an hour before.”

“Why?” asked Cerrin.

“Because he may be able to help us and we may be able to help him.”

Cerrin shook her head. “An hour of darkness isn’t long enough. Why take the risk? We don’t need his help.”

“How do you know?” replied Sadi.

“One hour?” said Cerrin. She couldn’t believe their “friends” would suggest such a thing.

Trantis did a better job than the women of keeping his voice down. “The Lovirr think striking together aids us both. If he’s inside one of their fighting machines and he gets here in time, he could make the difference.”

“And if we start earlier, we could all be in the forest by then.”

Trantis fixed his eyes on Cerrin. “The Lovirr want us to help him. If he gets to us, he will have killed this important Vitaari. No offense, Cerrin, but there are many like us. This man is special. We need to keep him alive.”

“If he’s so special, he can look after himself. We have another ninety-three to think about.”

Sadi turned to her. “We should wait. We should do as they ask. Act together. As one.”

As she looked at them, Cerrin reminded herself that the tunnel would not exist without the enterprising Palanians. She still didn’t believe this man was worth altering their plans for, but she owed them loyalty. The thought of waiting even longer horrified her, but now was not the time to argue.

“It’s decided, then. Let’s just make sure we’re ready.”

 

 

Sonus had drunk three large mugs of water but could not rid himself of the headache. It probably didn’t help that he was reading the data-pad under a blanket or that he seemed to have encountered a potentially intractable problem.

Mine Five was one hundred sixty kilometers to the south of Mine Three, situated beyond a line of sand dunes known to Palanians as Skakka’s Bight. Assuming he somehow survived the attack on the Viceroy, he would then have to reach Mine Fourteen, which was another ninety-five kilometers to the northwest. This was possible if he travelled at the optimum speed and did not make drastic maneuvers. But he planned to travel south from Three at maximum speed, and maneuvering was inevitable. He could add extra fuel modules but was not prepared to sacrifice any of the key armaments and equipment. He’d been unable to find out anything about the Viceroy’s ship and its capabilities, but it seemed obvious such a craft would have defensive systems. Sonus reckoned his best hope was to rely on surprise.

It took him another half an hour before he found a solution. A single fuel tank could be stored in the locker mounted on the back of the shell. It would have to be attached manually, but he reckoned it might just be enough to get him to Three.

Sonus left the data-pad under the blanket and gazed up at the darkened cavern. It seemed almost ridiculous to be looking so far ahead. Even what he had to accomplish here at Fourteen seemed more of an optimistic vision than a feasible plan. He had tried to put the very first stage of that plan firmly to the back of his mind, but soon the moment would arrive when he had to kill.

He looked across at the container and thought of holding the weapon in his hands, aiming at the armory guard. To his mother—a believer to her dying day—taking a life was an affront to the Maker. Sonus could never know how more than a decade spent in the grip of the Vitaari might have changed her mind, but she had been a woman of conviction. Perhaps she would have held firm, believed the Maker would eventually somehow free his chosen people. Or perhaps she would have said it didn’t matter, they were all better off in the Kingdom anyway.

Sonus wiped his aching eyes and turned off the data-pad. Once it was well hidden, he drank more water, then returned to bed. As usual, he wrapped himself up well and kept his arms under the blankets to get warm. There was a familiar comfort to these moments, and he knew from talking to others that many thought this the best part of the day. The body could rest and the mind too—free from the noise and dirt of the mines, the cruel whims of the guards. He recalled what Qari used to say: every night a part of her truly thought she might wake up and find it had all been a dream, that she might find herself back in her family home, in the time before the Vitaari.

Sonus gazed up at one particular patch of the cavern. Even in darkness, he could always make out the streak of pale green. Though he knew it was in fact caused by deposits of a rare mineral, he’d always found the splash of color encouraging. It seemed to suggest that the unexpected was always possible.

Before he finally succumbed to sleep, he forced himself back to a place he did not want to go: the abandoned shaft where Qari and Karas had thrown themselves to their deaths. He forced himself to remember how suddenly they were gone; every hope and dream of the future snuffed out in an instant. He thought of how it could have been, imagined the three of them together. He thought of the baby as a boy; that’s what Qari had wanted.

Sonus cried. But he also felt that fire in his gut, that anger. He would need his rage. He would depend on it.