The old man stepped away from the small party of group leaders and gestured expansively to the long, winding tunnel that led down from where they were positioned. It was much wider than any other they had encountered in the redoubt, and was sloping in a fairly gentle gradient, which was presumably why it was doglegged rather than running in fairly straight lines.
“If they are what the Gate call the guardians of the gateway, then I would make the supposition that this gateway is either a large mat-trans or a series of mat-trans chambers. I believe that it is large enough to encompass a number of wags, and that they are used on this lower level to transport materials to and from another redoubt. Therefore, to have an elevator would be impractical, and this is such a low level beneath the surface of the earth that it is stable enough to build these sort of tunnels rather than have to reinforce and build on a horizontal level.”
J.B. pushed back his fedora and scratched his head. “Yeah, I’ll buy that, Doc. But there’s one thing that still gets me. Why is this so open? One way in and out? That’s just plain stupe.”
Doc shook his head. “Not stupid so much as simple arrogance and overconfidence, my dear John Barrymore. Quite simply it never occurred to whoever built this redoubt that any enemy would have the skill and sheer audacity to get down this far. And if that was the case, then why bother to waste precious time and effort on an alternative exit?”
“That’s so dumb it might just be right,” Dean blurted out. Doc’s expression as this unintended backhander broke the tension with a wave of laughter: the laughter of relief rather than humor, as it was now obvious that the next assault would be the final action.
“Okay, so what do we do about this?” Gloria said to Ryan, recovering her composure rapidly.
“I’d like to work out some plan of action other than just a headlong charge,” Ryan stated. “If we can get as much old tech as possible, then mebbe we could answer some questions about the mat-trans.”
“Yeah, and if we leave it too long they’ll all be gone and we won’t be any the wiser,” Gloria replied. “We’re only getting the one chance at them, and this is our destiny. I say we hit hard and we hit now.”
Ryan and Gloria stood face-to-face, the battle scarred veteran looking down on the wiry Gate queen. Both were born leaders, both had won glorious battles and both had wills of iron.
But Gloria had the greater numbers. Ryan was aware that he had only his party of seven, whereas the Gate warriors outnumbered his people by about six to one. In the end, he would have to defer to Gloria, simply because she could go ahead and do whatever she wanted.
Ryan stepped back from her. “Okay, I don’t agree, but I see your point. We hit now, and we hit hard.”
THE MASSED RANKS of the Gate warriors made their way down the sloping tunnel, scouts checking every bend. It was empty and seemingly undefended, the tension among the warriors growing with each undefended turn.
“We must be near the bottom by now, for fuck’s sake,” Tammy murmured to Krysty.
“Keep it frosty,” the Titian-haired woman replied gently. “None of us can afford to lose our grip at this stage.” Especially when they were going headfirst into their defensive position, she added to herself.
A chorus of whistles from up ahead, just around a corner, was followed by the scouts sprinting back to cover as a volley of laser blasterfire scorched the walls.
“At least we know we’ve hit the end of the trail,” J.B. muttered before dipping into the canvas bag slung around his shoulder and producing a handful of shrapnel grens. “These should do the most damage,” he said, tossing two to Ryan and two to Jak, keeping two for himself.
Each man pulled a pin on a gren and threw it with a curve around the corner of the corridor. They then hit the ground, gesturing the tribe to follow.