Titan Song by Dan Stout (top 10 ebook reader .txt) 📕

there was a bank of lights just on the other side of the tunnel wall. The light was warm to the eye, and the atmosphere was even warmer. I kept my jacket on so that I could keep the spray can with me, but I was sweating heavily and wishing I’d brought water, or other liquid sustenance.

The vent walls varied in texture. Sometimes they were packed dirt, sometimes jagged rock, sometimes something soft and almost velvety. But always, they were warm. The whole thing felt as if we were walking through an animal’s den or a massive insect hive. Or maybe not so massive; with nothing to provide perspective, my sense of size was thrown off, and I had trouble remembering we were in large tunnels, and had not been somehow shrunk, and wandered into narrow halls of an ant’s nest. It was made worse by the intricate strands of manna thread. I couldn’t avoid them, so I did the only thing I could. I pressed on like I was stumbling through a cobweb-infested attic crawl space.

We paused at a branching path. Ahead, tunnels wound in a half-dozen directions. The main path continued straight ahead, while offshoots darted left and right, as well as sloping down, and a hole directly above us. The three of us stared at it.

“So, when we’ve got to go up,” Jax said, “I don’t suppose you’ve got some way to make that climb?”

“Nope.”

Jax exhaled loudly. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, then.”

“It won’t,” I said. “That’s what the Laughing Larry rhyme is for. Vandie’s already mapped out a path to get to the site and back.”

“I think he’s right,” said Guyer. “The safety equipment at the foot of the ladder had ropes but no climbing gear. Whatever we’re headed toward, it’s probably walkable.”

We crouched on our haunches as I shook the rattle can and marked our divergence. There was no place to rest, and no further sounds of our predecessor. I stared down the tunnel, where the beam from my flashlight faded into nothing.

“Think that’s Weylan out there in front of us?” I asked.

“Could be. Could be one of Vandie Cedrow’s workers, or a reporter who wants to break the story of lifetime. Could be a couple teenagers were in the building on a dare, then got spooked when they heard us announce ourselves.”

“You believe that?”

He hesitated. “No.” He raised his weapon once more, and we pressed on.

We got lucky, in that we didn’t have to make a vertical ascent. However, it wasn’t long before we came to a hole in the ground that corresponded to the “Duck” in the mnemonic rhyme. Our lights traced the rim, revealing fresh scrabble marks on the far side. Our predecessor was still ahead of us.

I peered over the edge, weapon ready, as Jax lit up the tunnel. The bottom was disturbingly distant, a vertigo-inducing view, like peering down from a second-story roof. If we were following Weylan, as I suspected, then he’d have been able to prop himself between the walls. I wasn’t sure how well a Barekusu would bend into a narrow opening like that, but I didn’t see a body at the end of the shaft, so I had to assume he’d made it through alive.

“For the record, this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever asked me to do.”

“Noted.”

It wasn’t quite a straight vertical shaft, so we opted to hold the rope in reserve. I was heaviest, so I went first. We figured if I slid out of control, there was no reason to crush anyone beneath me. I scooched feet-first as far down as I could, clinging to the hole’s edge, and then to Jax, as Guyer held on to him from above. Using my partner as a kind of ladder, I continued my descent. I was able to slide the last stretch without worry, and then catch him as he released. The two of us caught Guyer when she dropped down.

Jax looked back at the slope. “Can we get back up this way?”

“I think so.”

“As far as confidence builders go,” he said, “that’s pathetic.”

After the dip, we had a long, long trek of winding back and forth, gradually rising in elevation. As we got closer to the surface, the tunnels grew tighter, and there were more frequent small runs leading off of the top or side of the tunnel. It seemed like these were the finger vents that would ultimately lead up to the indoor vents and innumerable outdoor fissures that kept the city habitable. We were in the source of the city’s life, creeping single file toward our destination.

I was in front, and paused when we came to a fork. I called over my shoulder. “Is it ‘Leaves Righteous Lawyers’?”

“No,” said Jax. “It’s Leaves Lawyers Running. I can’t believe you’re the one who insisted we memorize the thing.”

“Oh, for . . . Turn around, Ajax.” Guyer dug out the map and pressed it flat against Jax’s back. She peered at it in the illumination of the flashlight beam. “Take a right.”

I shuffled ahead, progressing past a series of dark alcoves, each one of them a side tunnel that led us far off our path. “Are you sure? I thought it was Righteous Lawyers.”

Behind me, Guyer laughed. “Have you ever heard of a righteous lawyer?”

I looked over my shoulder, past Jax, just in time to glimpse the massive furry arms reaching from the alcove to seize Guyer by the neck. I spun, and my flashlight beam bounced off of Serrow’s eye plates.

“I believe you’ll put down your weapons.” Her shadow spread dark and looming across the geo-vent corridor. “Before we all get hurt.”

43

JAX DROPPED INTO A LOW crouch, his weapon already drawn, giving me clearance to fire over his head. But that wasn’t going to do any good.

Guyer was a living shield, held firmly in place by Serrow’s thick-fingered show hands. The Barekusu’s bulk filled the side tunnel, giving no room for flanking. We could only take her from