"We've known since we got to the intake tunnel," Lathe told him. "Suspected for a lot longer. After all, everyone we've talked to agrees that Torch disappeared without a trace—where else could they have gone but into Aegis Mountain? And who else might have known a way in that the Ryqril weren't blocking?"
"Pretty faulty logic," Bernhard said.
"Not really," Lathe said. "Anne Silcox remembers you as being held in much more esteem than your actions lately would warrant, which implies you were more help to Torch than you've let on."
"The real question," Skyler added quietly, "is whether or not you really were helping them on this one. In other words, whether you told them about all the defenses or made them find out the hard way."
Bernhard gazed steadily at the big blackcollar. "I told them everything I knew about this deathtrap," he said, his voice flat. "I told them their chances weren't good, that they'd be here for months just getting in." He took a deep breath and turned back to the cavern. "What can I say? They were fanatics."
"So you brought them here and just turned them loose?" Braune asked.
"That's what they wanted."
"You could have come down with them," Braune shot back. "Shown them the way, pointed out some of the traps."
"It doesn't look like they needed me, does it?" Bernhard retorted, waving a hand around him. "They got as far without me along as they would have with me here to hold their hands."
"And stage three?" Alamzad asked.
There was a long silence. Caine looked off into the darkness, wondering what they'd find down there. Bodies, most likely. An involuntary shiver ran up his back, and he turned to find Lathe's eyes on him. "We can quit now if you'd like," the comsquare said quietly.
Caine bit his lip. All this way... through the frustrations with Karen Lindsay and the Dupres... the humiliation of being plucked bodily from a Security trap... the loss of his command, willingly or not, to Lathe, and the price that had exacted from his ego... all of it for nothing? "Let's go on," he told the other. "See if they found a way through. If they didn't..."
Lathe nodded understanding. "We'll find out soon enough."
Within half a kilometer they'd come to the two other bulkheads Bernhard had mentioned, both of them cut through as the first had been. The tunnel narrowed down after the last one, though not to the point where they had to walk in single file again. The floor became inexplicably crunchy underfoot, suggesting to Caine that there were probably sonic detectors nearby using the sound of crackling gravel to track the intruders. But there was nothing he could think of to do about it except to stay alert and hope like hell that the first trap the tunnel threw at them would be something their flexarmor could handle.
But the tunnel didn't seem to be in any hurry, and they got another uneventful kilometer or so before Bernhard called a halt. "Stage three starts a little way ahead," he warned, gesturing to the curve just ahead. "From here on the tunnel will do a lot of twisting."
"Probably so you won't see the lasers until you're right on top of them," Lathe said grimly. "Back to single-file order. Bernhard and I'll go first."
"Until we reach the pile of corpses, anyway," Bernhard amended. "After that you're on your own."
"Move," Lathe nudged him.
They disappeared cautiously around the curve... and as the next in line, Hawking, started to follow there was a sudden exclamation from ahead.
"Lathe?" Hawking snapped.
"It's okay," Lathe's voice came, his tone a combination of relief, awe, and amusement. "Come ahead, everyone, and see how Torch beat the stage-three defenses."
A walking tank suit? was Caine's first thought—surely nothing larger could have been brought down the narrow entrance tunnel. He hurried to catch up with Hawking, and came to a confused halt beside Bernhard and Lathe, standing beside a man-sized hole in the wall.
"A secondary intake?" He frowned, leaning in to peer down it. It headed out at right angles from the ventilation tunnel for perhaps fifty meters and then seemed to turn toward the base ahead.
"It is indeed," Lathe said. "But not one the original designers had in mind."
"Torch?" Alamzad asked.
"Who else would have had the patience to dig a tunnel through a hundred and fifty meters of rock?"
Bernhard said. But even he seemed a little awed. "Damn crazy fanatics, all of them."
A sudden revelation hit Caine. "So that's what we've been walking on—they just spread the rock chips from their digging on the tunnel floor back there."
Jensen cleared his throat. "Yeah. Fanatics. You realize, Lathe, that this means they're almost certainly still in there. And they may not like being interrupted."
"That's the main reason I wanted Bernhard along," Lathe said. "Let's hope they still remember you fondly, Bernhard." The comsquare glanced around the group. "Caine, you and I'll go with him; the rest of you stay here for now. No sense risking everyone until we've got some idea of what's ahead—that tunnel's too cramped to maneuver in if there's trouble."
The tunnel was narrower than it had looked from the entrance, frequently forcing them to sidle along crab-style. "What kind of wall would they have had to break through to get in?" Lathe asked as they sidled along.
"Four or five meters of reinforced concrete," Bernhard said, "with probably a few centimeters each of lead and soft iron for pulse protection. After cutting through the stage-two bulkheads and all this rock, I doubt it would have slowed them down significantly."
The three men continued on in silence. A few minutes later Bernhard's prediction was borne out, as they passed through an archway of torch-blackened concrete and half-melted metal at the tunnel's end and exited into a large, dark chamber.
They were in Aegis Mountain.
Chapter 35
For a long minute the three men just stood there, the faint glow of armband lights showing only the vaguest hint of their surroundings. We made it, Caine thought. We made it. We're really here. Inside Aegis Mountain. The biggest single obstacle to his quest... and yet, to his surprise, he found himself unable to generate any of the satisfaction he should rightfully be feeling at such a triumph.
But then, this was hardly his own personal victory. Beneath the foggy sense of unreality was the knowledge that without Lathe this would never have happened. Lathe, his blackcollar team, and the comsquare's other allies. With a lurch, Jensen's private scheme came to mind, and Caine grimaced behind his gas filter at the part he had yet to play in that plan.
But that was still in the future. For now, there was the Backlash formula to be found. Unfastening his light from its armband, he flipped it to higher power and played it around. A short distance away to both sides were stacks of plastic crates, extending away from their wall for at least fifty meters.
"Supply storage?" he hazarded.
"Right," Bernhard said. "Level nine. Above us are three levels of officers' and enlisteds' quarters, the rec/med level, training level, command, munitions, and the fighter hangar. Some of those levels are considerably higher than this one, with actual freestanding buildings and landscaped rec areas—well, you'll see."
"Where's power generation handled?" Lathe asked.
"Beneath us," Bernhard said. "Twin fusion reactors, with gas turbine and multiple battery and fuelcell backup. All of them probably long dead or tripped."
Lathe looked at Caine. "Presumably Torch has something running wherever they've set up shop—they won't have spent the last five years hunched over flashlights."
"Just as long as they've got power to the computer records," Caine muttered.
"Records?" Bernhard frowned. "That's all you wanted here? I thought you were looking for unused weapons or electronics."
"Don't worry—if it works out it'll be well worth the trouble," Caine assured him. On his wrist his tingler came on: Lathe signaling the others to join them. "Where would the best place be to get onto the computer?"