Exile to Hell

“How can everything still work?” Grant demanded, shifting the muzzle of his blaster to cover every corner, including the computer terminals.

“Nuclear engines,” replied Brigid. “Atomic power is nearly eternal.”

She examined several of the machines, finding they responded to experimental touches of the keys. “Fully functional. No dust, either. Surely this place hasn’t been sealed since the nukecaust.”

“Doesn’t seem likely,” Kane remarked. He met Brigid’s suddenly frightened gaze and nodded toward the far wall. There was no door, but a man-size cavity was punched through it. “Let’s see what’s out there.”

No debris lay around the base of the wall. Although the jagged edges of the hole had been worn and ground down in the past, old scorch marks indicated that the cavity had been made with high explosive, probably a long time ago.

As always, Kane took the point, his companions following closely behind. As he clambered through the cavity, he tripped a photoelectric beam, and overhead lights flashed to yellow life. Before them stretched a long tunnel. It was made of softly gleaming metal and shaped like a square with an arch on top. It was at least twenty feet across. Great curving ribs of metal and massive girders supported the high rock roof.

Brigid bent over and touched the floor. “Vanadium alloy, like the sec doors in the Enclaves and the monolith.”

They moved forward, their footfalls making ghostly echoes so that their ears were confused. Grant stopped and turned twice, under the impression they were being followed. Even with the echoes, the silence was brooding and sepulchral.

They followed Kane for two hundred feet, then the tunnel reached a T. After a moment’s consideration, Kane led them to the right. The corridor narrowed, and the walls here were lined on either side with doors. It was a temptation to open them as they passed by, but it was more important to find an exit. Nobody spoke as they walked. Ahead, the passageway seemed to debouch into a dimly lit space. Kane realized he was having trouble walking in a straight line. He was almost ill from fatigue and lack of sleep.

Kane slowed his pace, finger on the Sin Eater’s trigger, aware he had maybe six rounds in the magazine. The tunnel abruptly ended against a massive sec door, obviously made of vanadium alloy. Connected to the frame at shoulder level was a small square panel, covered with a padlocked lid.

Just inside the door, emblazoned on one wall was a large, luridly colored image of a froth-mouthed black hound. Three stylized heads grew out of a single, exaggeratedly muscled neck, their jaws spewing flame and blood between great fangs. Underneath the image, rendered in ornate Gothic script was the word Cerberus.

Domi read the sign aloud, stumbling over the pronunciation. “Don’t get it.”

In a low whisper, Brigid announced, “Cerberus, the guardian of the gateway to Hades. Also the code name for the project devoted to the Quantum Interphase Mat-Trans Inducer experiments. This redoubt was the headquarters for Project Cerberus. A major component of the Totality Concept itself.”

Kane repressed a shudder. The oppressive atmosphere of the redoubt was insidious. “Let’s try to get that door open.”

The voice speaking from behind them was pleasant. “But you’ve only just arrived.”

Before the echoes of the first word faded in the passage, both Grant and Kane spun around, blaster barrels lifting, fingers crooked over triggers. Kane and Brigid recognized the erect but insubstantial-looking man standing in the vague light, but they were too stunned to speak his name.

Lakesh held out his hands, palms upward, in a gesture of welcome and to show he was unarmed. “Kane, you and Brigid gave us a rather difficult time.” His tone was gently reproving. “You moved too fast for us to implement our removal plan.”

His bespectacled eyes flicked appreciatively over Domi’s form. “Nor did we make allowances for a fourth member of your party.”

Harshly Grant demanded, “Who is this old crock?”

“A senior archivist,” answered Brigid in a high, thin voice.

“And a member of the Trust,” Kane added, his voice grim and cold.

“And Brigid’s Preservationist contact,” put in Lakesh. “Not to mention one of the original architects of the Totality Concept. Welcome to Redoubt Bravo. Welcome to Cerberus.”

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