Crater Lake. JAMES AXLER

“How long? How long to try and find the right places to blow this dump out of the world?”

“Their security is lax and almost useless against fighters with intent. It’s odd, is it not? They have been locked in here for a hundred years, doing nothing but researching ways of killing the planet. Yet in all that time the poor devils have quite forgotten how to fight.”

“So it’ll be a slide, huh?” J.B. asked.

“I think not. They will eventually gain access to their own defense systems. Dr. Avian spoke of hordes of sec muties locked safely away, waiting only the press of a button to release them all. No. I think we can spare no more than an hour.”

“Where’s best to go?” Krysty asked, pointing at the massive board.

Doc sighed. “Missiles, I suppose would be best. Find some good old-fashioned dynamite or nitro and place it right. Should be enough. An explosion down here has nowhere to go. Could bring the roof in. Then the lake. Blow down and set off the volcano.” His eyes turned dreamy again. “That would be a wondrous consummationto be born in fire and to end in fire.”

Ryan turned away. “Fine, then. We’ll split up like we said. Both groups will head toward the missiles, one left and one right. Kill anything moving. I now have1115. Meet back at the base of the elevator at 1220. First there waits, if they can, until 1225. Then they go. Up and run. Head back through the ville for the gateway. Wait there twenty-four hours. Then”

“Then, goodbye,” Jak finished.

MOST OF THE NEXT HOUR passed like a dream of action and death for Ryan and his two companions.

By his calculations they’d taken out three of the sixty-one scientists and a sizable part of their sec men. Unless some of the hordes of mutie sleepers had been released, there couldn’t be more than about seventy living humans within the entire Wizard Island complexa tiny number in that rambling techno vastness.

“Someone,” Jak Lauren hissed, running a little ahead of Ryan and Krysty.

It was the frail dwarf scientist in a spidery frame of plastic tubing. Its silent motor allowed him to be suspended a few inches above the floor. Seeing them, he stopped his machine.

“Take him,” Krysty said.

Ryan put the G-12 caseless on single-shot and aimed at the center of the scientist’s great spongy nodding head between his moonish eyes. Just as he had when they’d last seen him, the scientist managed to control his trembling features long enough to smile at thema wonderful, warm smile that filled Ryan with a wave of almost magical happiness. He smiled back and lowered his gun.

“Ryan,” Krysty said.

“Can’t. Not toto that.”

The wheelchair floated nearer, the tiny flipperlike left hand working intricate controls. The head nodded, the smile unchanging. Ryan glanced at Jak and saw him grinning helplessly at the scientist.

The delicate, harmless little

Then there was the sharp crack from the mirrored Hamp;K P7A-13 pistol in Krysty’s right hand. A small ruby hole, black-edged, appeared miraculously in the dwarf’s massive forehead above his glittering left eye. His chair weaved and stopped, and the scientist slumped dead in it, the smile still stuck in place.

“Krysty, we could” Ryan began, shaking himself as though he were covered in cold water.

“Lover, we don’t have the time,” she said, pushing past him, edging Jak out of the way and taking the lead.

WORD HAD FINALLY GOT out among the scientists that death had come stalking them. Ryan and the others saw lab coats of pink, green and light blue scurrying away from them, up stairs and into rooms that opened off the main part of the complex,

Oddly they saw no more sec men.

“Here,” Ryan said, pointing to a section marked with a skull and crossbones and the words over the doorway All Personnel Caution. Explosives. Alpha-Sec Only. Others Quadruple Negative Entry.

They entered a laboratory filled with glass vials that bubbled and hissed. There was more scientific equipment in the room than Ryan had seen in his entire life. Strapped into a peculiar upright wheeled chair was the huge giant they’d seen previously, this time without his mutie escort. His face, with the distorted, swollen features of an acro-megalic, turned incuriously to look in their direction. Then he glanced back to the bench where he was working on an experiment that seemed to involve whirling steel spheres in a huge vacuum jar.

Leave a Reply