We almost made it, Pierce thought, as a sliver of light grew and the ceiling above him started to fall.
But instead of dropping straight down and crushing Pierce and Fiona to oblivion, the rock shifted sideways, as if rebounding off an invisible force field. In the corner of his eye, Pierce saw more stones moving in defiance of gravity, coming together like building blocks. They formed a squat, blockish man-shaped golem. It spread its arms out, catching the last few pieces of falling rubble, but as it did, the friction of dry stone grinding together began to overwhelm the tenuous connections holding the construct together. Fiona threw a hand out, delaying the creation’s collapse long enough for it to take one lurching step toward the nearest wall, where it slumped in a mini-avalanche.
Lazarus was the first to grasp what Fiona had just done. He pointed to the newly created rock pile. “There’s our exit.”
They scrambled up the loose and uneven stone staircase, climbing the last few feet to reach the edge of the hole. The late afternoon sky was visible through it. Pierce helped boost Fiona and Gallo, then he took his turn, and Lazarus brought up the rear.
As Pierce’s head cleared the opening, the first thing he saw was a jumble of brightly colored fabric strewn out on the ground before them. The subterranean journey had taken them in a circle around the site of old Arkaim, and had brought them up near the banks of a small creek at the edge of the campground — or what remained of it anyway. Between the earthquake and the sinkhole collapse Fiona had triggered by freezing the groundwater, only a few of the tents were still standing. There was no sign of the campers and New Age tourists who had occupied them.
Pierce took a minute to get his bearings, then turned in the direction of the nearby parking lot. Despite everything that had happened, the expedition to Arkaim had been a success. The memory-metal sphere Fiona had recovered was the sort of artifact the Cerberus Group had been created to keep under wraps, even if they had no idea where it had come from or what its purpose was.
Time to boogie.
He was just about to reach for his phone to call Dourado and let her know that they were all still alive when he heard someone shouting. The words were in Russian, but sounded officious, which wasn’t surprising since the man shouting at them from the other side of the hole was wearing a dark military-style uniform. He was also holding a rifle, which was pointed at them.
Pierce had stashed the babelfish hardware in the backpack. Trying to take it out probably would have been the wrong thing to do, but he had a pretty good idea what the man was saying. Something along the lines of ‘You’re under arrest,’ or ‘Hands up,’ or maybe even ‘Go ahead, punk. Make my day.’
Crap.
As he skirted along the edge of the hole, the man unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt and uttered a few harsh-sounding words into it.
Probably calling for reinforcements, Pierce thought. Double crap.
Dourado had warned him that the archaeologist in charge of the site — what was his name? Z-something — had reported Pierce to the cultural authorities. Pierce didn’t know if the man heading their direction was a policeman sent to deal with them or a soldier securing the site in the aftermath of the earthquake, but either way, it would be almost impossible to slip away with the memory-metal sphere.
“Fi, you got any more tricks up your sleeve?”
The Russian shouted again, probably ordering him to stop talking. Pierce waggled his hands in the air in a show of surrender. The man reached the edge of the sinkhole, glanced down into it just for a second before bringing his gaze back to Pierce. Then he stopped and looked down again, eyes wide in disbelief. He breathed a Russian curse as he brought the barrel of his rifle down and took aim at whatever it was he saw below.
Even though he knew it was coming, Pierce jumped a little when the first shot was fired. Lazarus however, seized the initiative. “Now. Run for it.”
Fiona and Gallo took off running, but Pierce hesitated, half-expecting the Russian to start shooting at them. The man never looked away from his target in the sinkhole, though.
That must be some golem, Pierce thought, glancing down.
It wasn’t a golem.
“Go,” Lazarus urged. “Get to the car.”
Pierce jolted into motion just as the Russian’s smoking rifle went silent, its ammunition supply exhausted. Pierce caught a glimpse of the man trying to replace the spent magazine, then the man simply wasn’t there anymore. Something had seized hold of him and dragged him down into the pit.
“Go!” Lazarus urged again.
A trilo-pede body came out of the sinkhole, then another and another, like the tentacles of a giant octopus, probing the unfamiliar daylight world — testing it, tasting it.
Pierce ran.
Fiona and Gallo had already reached the rented vehicle, and Pierce was nearly there as well when he spied two more uniformed men running across the parking area on an intercept course. Lazarus poured on a burst of speed and managed to reach the driver’s side door before the Russians could close half the distance.
Not that they were paying attention to the fleeing humans anymore. Both men were staring in astonishment at the creatures undulating across the grass, heading in their direction. The Russians opened fire, but the bullets didn’t seem to have any effect on the advancing creatures.
Pierce climbed into the passenger seat and Lazarus started the engine. The tires threw up clods of turf as the vehicle shot forward. Pierce looked over his shoulder, curious to see what would happen next, but Lazarus turned out of the parking lot and he lost sight of the battle. “You think the Russians will be able to handle those things?”
Lazarus shrugged. “They’re not so hard to kill.”
Pierce grinned. “Easy for you to say.”
“The longer the Russians spend dealing with them, the better our chances of making it across the border and into Kazakhstan, so maybe it’s better for us if they do have to work for it a little.”
Pierce knew Lazarus was right, but he still felt a little guilty for unleashing the monsters on Arkaim.
He allowed himself a long overdue sigh of relief. The world was safe again. Mission finally accomplished.
He dug out his phone to call Dourado and tell her the good news.
THIRTEEN
Fallon stared at the robot with an expression somewhere between amusement and irritation, like a long-suffering parent dealing with a defiant toddler. “Run voice and facial recognition again. Verify authorization, and then do as instructed.”
“Your presence is not authorized,” the robot said again. It scooted six inches closer to Fallon, tilting its sensor disk toward him, exuding menace. “Please remain where you are. Security has been notified.”
Fallon glanced over at Carter and grinned weakly. “It happens.”
Carter saw nothing funny about the situation. She was about to tell him as much when she felt her phone vibrate. She glanced down at it and saw Dourado’s face displayed above the words ‘incoming call.’ The voice-chat app was still running. Dourado wanted to keep their conversation discreet. Carter tapped the screen to receive the call and turned away, lowering her voice to a discrete stage whisper. “I’m here.”
“I heard everything,” Dourado said. “This is very bad.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Whoever is hacking Fallon’s computer network is also controlling that robot.”
“I kind of figured that. Somebody doesn’t want us shutting the antenna array down.” The full significance of that sank in. The earthquakes and the solar event had been an accident, an unforeseen consequence of Fallon’s recklessness, but what was happening now was intentional. “Cintia, someone’s using the Black Knight as a weapon.”