The dim, white light from the handbeams cast eerie shadows from the debris lying about the large tunnel, creating black, irregular figures on the walls and conjuring up vile monstrosities ready to pounce upon the unsuspecting. The imaginary figures of the unknown extended past the lights and danced into the darkness of the night.
The stench of rat droppings, decaying railroad ties, and orange fungus wafted on the stale air and filled their nostrils with an unpleasant sewer-like odor. A long time ago, the walkway beneath their feet, being made of CPT plastic, had been bright and shiny. Now there were several inches of dirt packed onto its surface with clumps of slimy fungus growing here and there. Cracks could be seen in the walls. Broken lights and their fixtures, no longer working, protruded from the ceiling. The three sets of tracks, five feet below the walkway, which once carried subway trains into and under the city, were eroded and rusty with some of the rails being askew on the ties.
The two figures, in a stealthy motion, moved cautiously, but hurriedly along the left side of the tunnel. The faint echoes from their footsteps ricocheted off the walls—they quickly diminished and were lost in the distance. Once the woman thought she heard a noise from behind. She grasped her brother's arm and voiced her concern. They stopped to listen, but they heard nothing, so they moved on.
After awhile her brother halted their progress, took the cigar out of his mouth, and said in a whispered voice, "He should be just ahead."
They rested for a few minutes in silence. For a moment the young woman became lost in thought while secretly hoping things would go well that night. She strained to see further down the tunnel. "I hope he's here," she said as she felt the confines of the tunnel crowding in upon her. She pulled her coat tight around her upper torso to block out the cold air. "I don't like the idea of being out after curfew in a dark, smelly tunnel for nothing." She was a small woman all dressed in black—matching the shadows of the night.
The man was also small in stature being merely five feet eight inches tall, but his sister knew that what he lacked for in height he made up for in his expertise in martial arts and small arms—most suitable qualities when being part of a revolution.
Again they started forward and continued to hurry.
"We should have made contact with him by now. What if he didn't come?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"I'm sure he's just ahead," he replied adamantly, chewing on the end of his cigar. "If he isn't, the next time I see him I'm going to kick his ass. Besides he wants this revolution as much as we do. After the way they killed his brother, I can't blame him."
"But he might have run into unexpected trouble." She paused, "Maybe one of those vicious toral."
"Not a chance. He knows the country out there like a mama knows her baby's cry."
The young woman peered hesitantly down the tunnel. She was ten years younger than her brother, but it wasn’t her age, or her lack of experience and her lack of training in weaponry that was starting to make her feel uneasy. And it wasn’t because they were walking down a black, gloomy, smelly underground tunnel. She wasn’t sure if she believed in intuition, but right then she was having a hellacious, nagging feeling that things weren’t right.
Obviously her apprehension was starting to have an affect on her brother, causing him to have doubts, too. He said, "We'll go to the ladder of the last manhole, and if he's not there, we'll wait a while to see if he shows, and if not, then we’ll go home. Okay?"
“Yes.”
They continued into the darkness, shining the light ahead to keep from tripping over pieces of cement, which had fallen from the walls onto the walkway.
After another ten minutes the man said, "We nearing the end. This particular tunnel extends two miles from the terminal, and then dead ends into a cave-in, and the ladder is just before the end, which means we won’t be going much further."
It was her first time in this tunnel. But she had studied the layout before they left, and she had seen the cave-in. She had also seen a diagram of the small access tunnels located on the other side of the tracks, which led away at right angles from the main tunnel and finally joined the workman's tunnel, which ran parallel to the main.
During the days of their operation, a little more than two hundred and fifty years ago, the mains were used for transporting products from the outlying farms. When Ar became a member of the Galactic Federation it became cheaper to import food products, along with other commodities, from other planets. Over a period of time most of the farms and tunnels became abandoned. Only a few still remained in use for the dairy farms.
More recently, the unused mains, as well as the access and workman's tunnels, were being put to use by the revolutionaries. Arms, ammunition, and other supplies were being smuggled into the city.
For the sake of the people, and especially the children and the babies, it was the young woman’s hope that the revolution would start soon, bringing an end to the horrible living conditions.
They walked for several more minutes when suddenly a light from ahead flashed three shorts and a long.
"There he is—that damn son-of-a-bitch," exclaimed her brother with a hardy laugh. "I knew he'd be here." He flashed his handbeam, two longs and one short. Then they stepped up their pace and hurried to meet their contact.
"Everette, is that you?" asked the small man.
Everette stepped out of the shadows and into the light shining from the handbeams. He was a giant of a man, even big for a mountain man at nearly seven feet tall with broad shoulders and a big round face. His little eyes, compared to his large face, peered from behind a long, bulbous nose, and his frown, which puzzled the man and the young woman, was formed by a wide mouth and thick lips. He had a power pack strapped to his back, which was connected to a long barreled phasor hanging from his right shoulder. "Hello, Sam." It was apparent Everette wasn't happy.
They shook hands in a formal Arian grip.
"This is my sister, Viella," said Sam.
It seemed to Viella that Everette's frown deepened in the furrows of his face as he reached down in an effort to shake her hand. "Hello," he said unenthusiastically.
He was the biggest man she had ever seen, and then she laughed inwardly when she remembered her brother saying he was going to kick Everette’s ass. "Hi," she responded.
Everette turned and looked down at Sam. "I didn't know you were bringing your sister. If I had been informed I would have told you my feelings on the idea."
"Ah,” said Sam, “now I understand why you’re acting funny. It’s nice to see that you have my sister’s interest at heart, but the fact is, she insisted. She says she has a right to be a part of this revolution and wants to help in any way she can."
“That’s right,” said Viella. “I feel I need to help the cause. How can I just sit around when so many people are suffering?”
"Yeah, okay," said Everette with a grunt. "It just seems an unnecessary risk when Sam and I could have handled this."
Sam ignored his statement and asked him if he brought the weapons.
"Yeah," he answered. "We brought forty hand-phasors and thirty high-powered shoulder phasors."
"Good," said Sam. He paused and looked around. "So where are they?"
Everette pointed a huge finger toward the ceiling. "Top-side near the entrance," he said. "I wanted to be sure you were coming before we hauled them down."
“We?”
Everette nodded his large head. “Yeah, one of the clan members came along to help.”
"Okay," said Sam. He pulled on the right side of his red, bushy mustache. "Let's get the guns."
Everette’s voice boomed even when he was trying to whisper. “Just one thing,” he said. “The man that came with me is from Newnippon, and I’m not sure if you’re acquainted with their customs, so I have to tell you—his name is Yakao Samsung Yoshimoto. He goes by Samsung in honor of his father’s heritage, so don’t call him Sam or Sammie or anything other than Samsung. It’s considered to be disrespectful. Okay???
?
“Samsung,” said Sam. “I got it.” He threw his half-smoked cigar on the dirt and ground it in with the heel of his shoe.
The three of them walked down the tunnel another fifty yards until they came to a steel-runged ladder, then one by one they started up and climbed into the cold, summer night air.
"One more shipment like this and we'll have enough arms for the entire underground," said Sam.
But that won’t be enough, thought Viella. She knew they would need more than phasors and phasor-rifles. They needed undercover agents to infiltrate key positions in the elite guard of the tower, and they needed to disable the scents. Otherwise, there would never be a revolution.
A few feet away stood Everette's train of pack horses tied together from bridle to tail, and huddled together in the cold night air. Next to them, on the ground, lay several boxes and leather bags. More packs could be seen on the backs of the animals.
Just then a man stepped out of the moon-shadow cast from the horses and started walking toward them. He was short, about Sam’s height at five foot eight. In the moonlight Viella could tell his skin was a golden color and his hair was black. He was wearing a long, black woolen coat and black boots. There was a black leather belt around his waist with two black sword cases, with swords on each side of his waist. They were placed between the leather belt and his coat. The handles of the swords crossed in front of his stomach. Viella had never seen such strange looking weapons.
When he got closer she could see that his eyes were brown, and the corners of his eyes were slanted in an upward direction. She had studied the cultures of the other three cities on Ar and from what she could remember Newnippon had been colonized by a people most of whom looked like Samsung. Unlike the people who had colonized Newusa, there was very little variation in physical features among the people of Newnippon.
Everette stepped forward. “Samsung,” he said, “let me introduce you to Sam.”
Sam stepped closer and started the Arian salutation, but before he could finish putting his hand to his chest, Samsung bowed his head low using a greeting Sam had never seen before. He didn’t know what to do. So he just stood there, until Everette nodded his head at Sam, then he did it again indicating that he should emulate Samsung in a show of respect.
Sam bowed.
When they raised up Everette said, “And this is his sister, Viella.”
Samsung bowed again. And Viella followed suit. She had read about the Nippons, but this was the first one she had ever met. Underneath that gruff looking exterior, he appeared to be very respectful.
Everette picked up one of the bags and handed it to Viella. "These hand phasors aren't so heavy without the power packs," he said.
With her gloved hands she took the bag from him. “That’s fine," she said. She bent over and picked up another bag and slung them over her shoulders. "I'm going to take these back to the concealment. When I’m finished I’ll be back for more." She started down the ladder shifting the weight of the bags on her shoulder for better balance.
She stepped onto the tunnel floor and had gone about twenty paces when she heard someone coming down the ladder. She turned and shined her light. There was Samsung half way down with the last two bags of hand phasors. She turned back and continued toward the hideout.
Just then she heard Everette’s voice, and turned again with her light. She watched as Sam came quickly down the ladder. He stood on the floor of the tunnel and waited as Everette, using a rope, lowered the first box of shoulder phasors.
Samsung turned and asked Sam, “Do you want me to hold the light for you?”
“No. You go ahead,” said Sam.
Everette called out, "Here they come.” His voice was so base it sounded like a loud growl.
"I'm ready. Send 'em down."
Viella picked up her pace and hurried down the dark tunnel waving her light back and forth as she went. She wanted to get back and help them, so they could finish before it got too late. As she rounded the first bend she could hear Everette and Sam working on the second box. She hadn't walked more than a few feet when a noise, somewhere in the tunnel, brought her to a sudden standstill. She whirled around instantly and peered into the dark. It sounded like soft, shuffling footsteps coming from the tracks.
She shone her light up the tracks toward Sam and Everette.
Just then, there were more sounds, and then someone, between her and Samsung, jumped up from the tracks and onto the walkway. She started to shine her light in that direction when a blue phasor bolt lit up the tunnel. She watched as it hit Samsung full in the chest catapulting him backward against the tunnel wall. Before the blue light faded into the shadows she could see him crumpling toward the floor in a state of stun.
She turned and started to run down the hall, but before she could take three steps, a hand shot out of the darkness and grabbed her arm pulling her into the chest of a large man.
Instantly she started to scream—a loud piercing scream, which caused pain in her ears. The sound reverberated off the walls and came back like a board being slammed against her head.
A big, rough hand clamped down on her mouth, squeezing harder than necessary to muffle the scream. She could taste blood in her mouth oozing from a cut on her lower lip. The man grabbed her around the chest pinning her arms and causing the leather bags and her handbeam to fall to the floor.
In the faint light she could make out the uniform of the man. Oh crap, she thought. One of Hurd’s city patrollers. She suddenly felt like the tunnel was closing in on her, crushing the breath out of her lungs and making her dizzy. She shook her head and struggled to get free. She tried to shake loose so she could scream, but the man was too strong.
He clamped down harder and whispered in her ear. "Shut up, bitch, and stop wiggling or I'll knock you out."
Viella forced herself to a state of calmness. She knew that a struggle against this man, who was twice her size and three times as strong, was futile. She stopped resisting and relaxed herself in his grasp.
She had to escape. But to do so, she had to get him off guard. She knew that the only way to get free was to accomplish the unexpected—and it had to involve pain—the more the better.
The man felt her go limp in his arms, and he relaxed a little, giving-in to a subconscious reflex.
"That's better," he said. "Now put your hands behind your back."
Like hell, she thought. If he cuffed her hands together, that meant capture. She would be taken before the city’s number one councilor. There would be a quick trial—bogus, and then she would be sent to the prison pits—the crystal mines in the Borgus plains of Ar—a certain death penalty.
But it wasn't her intention to go quietly and without a fight. She overcame the urge to panic. She mustered all her strength, and then as she started to put her hands behind her back she slowly raised her right knee, and then slammed the heel of her boot down on top of the man's arch. There was a crunching-snapping sound, and she could feel the bones give beneath her boot. The man quickly let go, and started hopping around in pain.
“You want a piece of me!” she said, using a line from an old movie.
Viella picked up the fallen handbeam and stepped away. She breathed a little easier. She began to think more clearly. She wanted to run to Samsung, but he was in a state of stun, and she knew he was too heavy to carry. She wanted to warn Sam and Everette.
They probably heard her scream, but maybe not. She raced down the tunnel toward their location, sweeping the handbeam back and forth as she went.
She had only gone a short distance when her light swept across two patrollers sneaking up the tracks. She swept it back again, and there they were holding phasors, ready to fire.
They saw her light, and one of them spun around searching for her. He shone his light in her direction.
As his handbeam lit her up she suddenly felt like she was standing in a spotlight, but not for a song and dance number. And just then a red phasor bolt went beaming past her head. It wasn
't from the patroller, which meant either Sam or Everette had fired the shot.
Damn, she thought, one of them almost put my lights out—for good.
The two patrollers started firing back, and just like that phasor bolts were being shot in both directions. They were lighting up the tunnel walls in demon-fire red and aqua-sky blue.
To go forward would be suicide, as she would be in the middle of a shootout. And it wasn’t necessary anyway. Sam and Everette had been warned, and they could fend for themselves. She turned and started racing toward the patroller who had held her in his grasp. She knew that across the tracks from him and down the main tunnel about twenty paces was an access tunnel.
It was only a short distance before she would be upon him. She jumped down to the tracks and kept running. He would see the light from her handbeam, but she had no choice except to keep shining it forward in the black of the tunnel. It wouldn’t be a good thing to trip over one of the railroad ties.
Just then she heard more patrollers coming up the tunnel.
She ran faster. She jumped over three sets of tracks as she ran to the far side. She kept sweeping the light in front of her, and then along the side of the main tunnel. She was looking for her only means of escape. And then there it was—the access tunnel.
She crouched lower as she darted for it. She sprinted up the metal ladder, started across the walkway, and was almost there when suddenly a blue light reflected off the walls, and a phasor-bolt hit the doorway just above her head.
The man, no longer hopping around in pain, but lying on the ground, had squeezed off a shot, and then another as several more patrollers rounded the bend.
The second shot missed, and Viella ducked inside the access tunnel. As she started down the tunnel, she heard the guard yell out, “The bitch broke my foot. Go get her!”
Chapter Eighteen