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Book 2, Chapter 15 – A Pox On Your House

  The tunnels underneath Eidao were unlit except for by the torches Miran and her company brought with them. Rissa and Miran walked in the centre of the pack, navigating dirt and crumbling composite steps. Two of the company’s soldiers bearing light battle armour with integrated lighting flanked either end of their group. Knowing the horrors the enemy was capable of inflicting, Miran wasn’t taking any chances.

  Miran continued to play with Podallan’s fractured tablet. Her hope to power it on and learn its secrets seemed to keep her mind off the dim dark ahead of them. Miran wasn’t afraid of the dark, far from it, but in a place like this, who knew what lurked in the shadows. The tunnels hadn’t been occupied in what seemed like decades, a fact cemented by Patriarch Hari in his ignorance to them entirely.

  Initially excavated by the first colonists on Ganon, the tunnels had been dug deep beneath the mountainside to take advantage of the natural protection from the dust storms that now seemed to be only the concern of outer districts. The aristocracy, of Hisshou especially, seemed happy to pretend the dust storms never existed.

  Miran, embittered by the Patriarch’s complacency, assumed to some degree that maybe that’s just how planetside federation populations were run. When there was so much room to grow, to spread out, perhaps that just diffused the urgency in running a tighter ship. The early colonists, however, must have had a different manner of approach. Arriving on a world so barren, so inhospitable to human life, they must have spent most of their time fighting to survive.

  The tunnels were carved deep, branching off into countless corridors. As they walked, the company passed through cavernous, wide halls, dormitories, and in one case, an expansive amphitheatre. The hulking soldier at the front directed them forward, continually scanning for Podallan’s bootprints. Each track aimed the way downward into the dark.

  Every so often, Miran would angle Podallan’s tablet a certain way, pressing a random set of commands on the nearly shattered screen, only to see the tablet flicker to life then swiftly fade. Her determination fought back the void feeling in her heart in the shape of Melisa Wellei’s, Stanley Dominado’s, and Soren’s faces.

  “How deep are we?” whispered Rissa.

  Miran’s attention was still directed solely at the terminal.

  “Nearly twenty metres down and falling,” a soldier from behind them answered.

  Miran’s ears began to pop with the pressure, directing her attention back into their downward trudge. She forced a yawn.

  “What was Podallan doing down here?” Rissa asked, “And how did he walk this far in the dark with his limbs broken?”

  “Whatever broke him did so after they exited the tunnel together,” Miran surmised. “As far as what he was doing down here….”

  “Maybe he was trying to stop something. Something terrible,” Rissa said warily.

  “The enemy is methodical,” admitted Miran, “If he was down here, then they had a plan for him. I’m sure of it.”

  “It’s too bad Lawson isn’t along with us. I don’t blame him for leaving,” Rissa said, “He has been through a lot. It’s just that his mirth might do us well right about now.”

  “I’m not sure that the Lawson you meet in the future will be the same. I’ve never seen him as distraught as he was around Podallan’s body. Something’s shifted in him. Perhaps now he is just as broken as Podallan.”

  Miran hadn’t held anything back, and Rissa’s silence told her that maybe she should have. Lawson had been a man thrilled with pomp and ceremony, relishing in the regal. His buoyancy finally succumbing to the fresh new horrors that seemed to chase them from planet to planet.

  Lawson’s final act had been so far out of character that it forced Miran to reevaluate the others that surrounded her. Rissa had remained optimistic, however, hurt, through much of this. And until now, Podallan had remained a lesson in steadfast duty. He had been driven, unwavering, and above all else, cautious.

  A sinking feeling formed in Miran’s gut. Maybe it was the stale air, or the dirt the armoured soldier ahead of her kicked up, or some sudden realisation. Holding her breath, Miran halted and raised a hand ordering her company to freeze. A bulletin popped on her terminal from the armoured soldier at the front.

  “Orders?” the message asked.

  “Hold,” Miran typed in reply.

  Opening a bulletin to her whole company, she sent: “All units: Operating Silence.”

  They remained still for several moments as Miran listened, thinking. Torchlights moved up and down the passage in search of something only Miran could see. It wasn’t until Rissa placed a hand on her shoulder that she decided to share her suspicions.

  “Podallan wasn’t stupid,” she said, breaking her own order. “He was young, sure, but smart.”

  She turned to Rissa, shining her torch into the woman’s eyes.

  “Everything was too easy, almost like we were directed down here. We’ve walked ourselves into the beast’s den.”

  “A trap?” Rissa asked. Miran nodded.

  Each of the members of the company grew agitated. Several raised their rifles and polearms to point at different points in the black. An itch ran across Miran’s neck, her lizard brain signalling something was amiss. She wanted to get angry, to lose herself in her usual fury. Instead, she forced it back and waited.

  “What do we do?” the armoured soldier at the back asked.

  Before Miran could answer, something vaguely human fell on top of the soldier and forced his suit to the ground. Unable to open fire, the soldiers closest moved to pull the thing off as it grappled for the suited soldier’s rifle and smashing the mounted lights in the process. The back of the company grew dark as torchlights waved about in the scuffle.

  Unable to get the thing off of the soldier, it grasped the armoured helmet and began slamming it over and over against an exposed boulder. Several of the by-standing soldiers plunged their polearms into the humanoid while only barely slowing it down. The soldier screamed as it fought against the overpowering strength of its wiry attacker. After another smash, the soldier fell silent, and the creature let go. Several of the by-standing soldiers grabbed the assailant by the arms and waist, heaving it off of the armoured corpse. It let go willingly, and a viscous fluid began seeping from its ears and mouth. The soldiers released it only for the attacker to drop into the dirt, limp.

  Suddenly, three more attackers rushed them from where they had been travelling, the first two of which collided with the armoured vanguard bringing them to the ground. This time the other soldiers didn’t wait and opened fire.

  The third humanoid rushed through, passing by the other soldiers and heading straight for Miran. It lashed out with its gaunt arms dotted with sallow flesh, grabbing at her jacket. As she fought the assailant, it managed to grab hold of her utility belt. It pulled her closer as she fought against its tidal pull.

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  Rissa appeared behind the humanoid, slamming a bowling ball-sized rock into the back of the attacker’s neck. Suddenly crippled, it relaxed its grip and slumped into a pile at Miran’s feet.

  The two humanoids at the front were peppered with bullet spray, much of which ricocheted off the soldier’s armour. A stray bullet found its way up inside the soldier’s helmet, puncturing a major artery in his neck. The same sallow fluid leaked from each of the three that lay in the dirt as the armoured soldier quickly bled out.

  “Everyone okay?” called out Miran., checking flashing life signs on her terminal.

  “Fine,” Rissa replied.

  “We’ve lost the rear guard,” called a soldier from the back.

  “We’re down armour up here,” said a soldier ahead of her. “Hit by one of ours.”

  Miran was enraged by the suddenness of the attack. Her blood pumping wildly, she attempted to calm herself with the thought that should she not have remembered the brutality of the beasts that plagued Bordeaux and cautioned against armoured escorts, the entire company may have been torn apart.

  Miran looked down at the faces of their assailants under the light of her torch. Faces she recognized as members of her old flock.

  “There’s at least three more of these somewhere in here,” she cautioned the company. “Stay alert.”

  “Miran, what do we do about the bodies?” Rissa asked.

  Miran checked her terminal, hoping to send a bulletin to Kerrigen on the surface. No signal.

  “We’ll have to come back,” she said, “For now, we move on.”

  She urged the company to move, prying them from melancholy.

  “Focus. We have a job to do.” Miran moved forward, drawing her sidearm.

  Rissa followed behind her through the stunned servicemen and women as they took up the vacant vanguard.

  Fifteen metres further down the black corridor, a light shone from just around a corner.

  “There’s someone up there,” she said, alerting the others.

  As they neared the corner, Miran heard what sounded like soft footsteps and a weeping child. Miran motioned for the company to halt. From behind the corner, a familiar face appeared, that of Davina Kide. Miran remembered her from the day she consoled the frustrated young girl and her grandmother after her fathers’ – Linden and Handen’s – deaths.

  Davina stepped forward, blocking their path, wiping tears onto her sleeve.

  “Matriarch?” Davina asked timidly.

  “Davina, how did you get down here?” Miran asked, uneasy. “Where is your grandmother?”

  “She’s… she’s not here. I can’t find her anywhere. Matriarch, where am I?”

  Miran didn’t answer; instead, taking a step away from the girl.

  Devina noticed this. Tears began to surge from her as she buried her face in her soggy sleeves. Miran wavered, unsure if Davina was genuinely lost down here. She was easily just as infected as their attackers. However, Miran could see no signs of emaciation or bruised skin like the others.

  “Devina, where did you just come from?” asked Miran, “Around the corner, what will I see?”

  The little girl took a step towards Miran, looking up from her sleeve. Behind Miran, Rissa and the soldiers were beginning to stir, unsure how to react. Miran signalled that they stand down. The girl stepped forward again, this time opening her arms, hoping to be comforted. Miran remained steadfast, not retreating, just waiting to see the girl’s next move.

  There’s no way she can be down here on her own, Miran felt in her bones.

  “Davina. Stop,” Miran urged. “What is behind the corner? What are you doing down here?”

  But the girl didn’t answer. As Davina neared Miran, arms outstretched, Miran reached behind herself. Grasping hold of a soldier’s polearm, she levelled it like a lance and lunged forward. The polearm pierced the girl through her chest. Miran carried through with the thrust, lifting the pole up and into the adjacent tunnel wall.

  Davina was pinned and began screaming. Her wails were that of a terrified child, and Miran felt an instant sickening regret. The soldiers around her recoiled at her action, several calling out too late for her to stop. Rissa was horrified, dumbstruck into silence.

  Miran’s hands trembled with the realisation of what she just did. Her arms dropped, releasing her grip on the polearm, which remained securely in the wall. Turning away, Miran wretched.

  “Matriarch, why!” Davina screamed. “It hurts– it hurts! Take it out!”

  The girl’s hands gripped at the spear that pinned her with what at first resembled genuine human struggle. Then, as that proved ineffective, she slowed her cries and began clawing at her own chest to tear out the weapon and get free. As her whimpers ceased and the girl’s animal brain took over, the monster that was once Davina lost all credibility.

  “Drop the act,” Miran said to the bewilderment of those behind her.

  Davina paused in her struggle, dropping her arms in surrender. She smiled.

  “Creature,” Miran started, “what will we find in the room ahead?”

  “I am no creature,” Davina said implausibly, “I am a girl, a member of your flock.”

  “You’re not fooling anyone. Tell me, where are the other infiltrators? Who killed Podallan?”

  The monster that was Davina considered her for several moments, ignoring the rest of Miran’s company. She blinked an uncanny blink, then smiled again.

  “Good to see you, Miran-Yi,” she said in a bizarrely distinct voice. Miran knew she had heard the voice sometime before, but she struggled to recall where or when. “It has been quite a while, has it not?”

  “Who are you? What are you planning here?” Miran asked.

  “Don’t you remember me?” the voice asked, “How rude. I certainly remember you.”

  Miran’s sickness began to wane, replacing itself with an all too familiar rage.

  “Surely you remember my handiwork on Bordeaux’s Folly, no?” Davina’s mouth said, “Well, of course, I am Nin Bonwade, and I am master of all you see.”

  A sudden jolt of realisation raced across her mind as Miran remembered the tanned man that had taunted her on The Dream before their only engagement.

  “Starstruck? I can understand the feeling, having suffered a loss so egregious following our last meeting,” Nin taunted.

  “I seem to remember our forces blasting you into a fresh crater,” she spat back.

  “At minimal cost to me, I might add. Though, you did ruin a fine crop.”

  “Those were people you twisted and transformed, not livestock!”

  “An apricot to you, a peach to me,” Nin said, smiling again through Davina’s lips.

  “You and your kind are putrid, and yet I have no name for them,” Miran said.

  “If a face to your adversary is what you wish, you may call us Ghede,” Nin said. “Little does it do to stop the fate of those before you.”

  “How dare you have the nerve to take the life of this little girl!” Miran spat.

  “Look again, dear Matriarch. It was by your hand that she found her end. And pardon me, you are a Matriarch no longer, are you?” Nin prodded.

  Miran’s fury passed her throat, and she screamed a wordless scream.

  “Such anger!” Nin mocked, “Anyways, you wished to know of the room beyond – of my spectres’ meddling? Go now, see for yourself. Just know you are too late to stop it.”

  Miran stepped towards the hanging girl, gripping the polearm and making the husk wince.

  “Oh– Ouch,” Nin said, seemingly feeling some of the pain.

  “You’re going to answer for this, for all of it!” Miran promised.

  “Goodbye, Miran-Yi, and have luck,” Nin said. Davina’s once innocent face began to sour, and bruising sprouted just as her expression relaxed. From her eyes, ears, and mouth, a viscous fluid flowed, blackening her ripped tunic, and silence overtook them.

  The company around her stood in fear. Rissa, paralyzed by what Miran had just done and caught between shock and understanding, remained still. Miran pulled the polearm from the wall and handed it to the soldier, Davina’s lifeless husk joining the other bodies in the dirt. Miran was unable to look at them, still questioning her own depth of guilt. Instead, she did the only thing she could do; she moved to the light around the corner.

  The room at the end of the corridor was bright, its door ajar muffling the distant sound of rushing water. Her sidearm drawn, Miran kicked the door open. The door’s ancient hinges squealed as it swung wide. Miran holstered her sidearm. Across from the door, a crumpled heap of broken bodies partially covered a cavity carved into the base of the wall. The rest of the company came rushing in behind her.

  “That’s three more of them,” Rissa said, counting the bodies.

  “I guessed we miscounted with Davina,” Miran said, kneeling by the pile.

  “We didn’t count her since she wasn’t reported missing,” said Rissa.

  “Have someone check on the grandmother when we get back to the surface,” said Miran, “I fear the worst for her.”

  Miran stood from the bodies. “Move these,” she ordered as the soldiers cautiously lifted them from where they blocked the cavity.

  “What do we have here?” Miran asked, looking into the dark pit. The air above it was fragrant with earthen mist. She shined her torchlight down onto glistening running water. Rissa poked her head in behind Miran’s.

  “Shit,” Miran said, “This is what Davina didn’t want us to see.”

  “What is it?”

  “They didn’t want us in here, at least until they finished what they came here for,” said Miran.

  Miran tapped a command on her terminal and scanned the black space below them. Passive scans revealed a network of aquifers and subterranean rivers. She followed the trace back beneath Eidao and into a water reclamation plant on the outskirts of inner Hisshou.

  “Something’s in the water supply,” Miran said, “And if I were a betting Matriarch, it’s nothing good.”

  “There has to be a way to stop what they put in,” said Rissa.

  Miran wasn’t sure about that, but she was convinced that they needed to get back to the surface.

  “We need to warn Kerrigen.”

  “What do we do with the bodies?” asked Rissa.

  Miran pointed to three of the soldiers. “You three, clean up these bodies and our friends in the corridor. And when you’re done, patch up this opening. I’ll see to it that our fallen are taken care of.”

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