Dark of the Moon

August 3 - Wadi Emet

"It needs unconquerable courage to begin to tread this path. Here is a weird, deceptive life. The fiery sense is baulked. The moon has no air. The knight upon this quest has to rely on the three lower senses: touch, taste and smell. Such light as there may be is deadlier than darkness, and the silence is wounded by the howling of wild beasts." - Aleister Crowley, The Book of Thoth

----

General Belavidorico had said that the Marauders had abducted a woman from Highpoint Station and removed her to their hideout.

While not officially on the case, I had given the matter some thought. It was unlikely the kidnappers would keep the woman in the settlement. The Magistrate's men would be going from house to house. There was too great a risk of discovery.

The outpost in Splintered Rock was also an unlikely refuge. The Marauders had few friends there, I was certain, since the downing of a civilian transport some months ago. Even if the Constable's forces were stretched to capacity, there would always be a mercenary or offworld adventurer that would turn in the kidnappers for reward or simply to curry favour with the local authorities.

No, they would head for the sand.

And I reasoned that even if the Marauders entered the settlements by crossing the desert basin, to safely move a hostage they needed a way to move quickly through the desert, with someone who might be unconscious or resistant.

The logical route would be through the Wadi.

I still had some exploring I wanted to do, and I figured that anything I could find out might help the General and his men succeed in their mission to rescue the woman, and help minimize the loss of life to his forces.

So I ventured south, using the cover of the dark moonless night, through the Wadi Emet, intent on extending my knowledge of the area, and watching for any trace of the missing woman or her abductors.

Despite General Belavidorico's warning, I did indeed go wandering after dark.

I took a direction 27 degrees to the West of my previous course through the Wadi.

This area was eroded in such a way that the valley resembled an ancient riverbed. I could imagine water streaming down this channel from the elevated regions to the southwest. The ground was hard and I found I could keep a good pace, even with the incline.

The path eventually resolved itself into an area of sharp peaks. The rocks here were darker than the valley floor. I started to do more climbing than actual walking.

Thinking that I had reach the limit of where I could safely travel, I was about to turn back when I came across a wide depression where the rock was of a lighter colour. It appeared smoother and more rounded than the surrounding area, and was noticeably narrower on the eastern side.

Further to the east, there was a drop to the valley floor far below. Only when I climbed down to the valley floor and faced west did I see the true nature of the narrow portion of rock.

It was a tunnel.

A dark gaping hole, that reminded me of the mouth of a giant lamprey eel. Undeterred, I stepped inside. My eyes soon grew accustom to the gloom.

At the end of the tunnel was a large, round, steel door. There were no markings. It looked effective. The blast that could crack this door would bring down the tunnel.

A pad to the left of the door was illumined. Pale green, it served as a beacon in the darkness. I passed my hand across it.

My father used to say that when I was a little girl, if there was a rock sitting out in the middle of the field, I would go over and take a look underneath it. Nothing has changed, I guess.

The door opened with a groan. It rolled slowly to the right. As I had judged, it was thick, very thick, with teeth around the circumference like a gear. It opened to a small chamber with an identical door on the far wall.

I stepped inside and let the door close behind me.

I paused.

No alarms. No voices. No obvious scans.

I passed my hand across the pad next to the inner door.

Locked.

I could go no further. Not tonight.

Retracing my steps, I returned to the air outside. Lost in thought, I followed the curve of the rock wall to the south.

-----

This area looked vaguely familiar. I stopped by a dry cactus at the edge of the flat and frowned as I tried to get my bearings.

In the distance, I recognized a silhouette against the starry night sky. It seemed I had wandered close to the Myrmidon fortress.

There was a metallic sound coming from the wall of the canyon. My blood suddenly ran cold as I heard the unmistakable sound of sentinel drones powering up.

I hit the ground running.

Back to the tunnel.

Run. RUN!

Feet pounding on the valley floor.

Picking up speed.

Drones firing.

The first sting. A glancing blow.

Boots on the sand. Sand on the rock.

They are close now.

Two from the sound of it.

My heart pounding against my rib cage.

Red flash.

White hot pain.

Smell of burnt cloth, seared flesh.

Almost there.

Breath rapid. Mask choking.

Another hit. Like fire.

Scream.

Don't stop.

Legs protesting. Lungs rebelling.

The gaping mouth of the cave.

A sudden drop in temperature.

Down the tunnel now.

Go. Go. Go.

Slapping my hand against the pad.

An eternity as the giant gear shaped door rolls slowly to the right.

Drones hovering by the mouth of the tunnel. Angry hornets.

Trying to make myself small. Ruby lines drilling through the air.

I slipped through the opening and reversed the direction of the door.

-----

It was a few moments before I recovered myself.

I checked my wounds. A few needed attention. Most were minor. Drones kill you in inches. I didn't like the feel of the one on the right side, low back.

Peeling the melted hydrosuit from one nasty area, I tore off some skin.

Next time take the painkillers first, Pepper.

I treated the worst of my wounds with anti-bio and patched them with derma-seal. Then a sip of water. The worst of it over, I settled in the antechamber and waited.

-----

Later.

The gear shaped door rolled to the side like a mighty stone.

The night was silent once more.

I could see evidence of the sentinels at the mouth of the tunnel, like scratches of a wild animal on the sand and rock. I could see the path my footprints had made on my desperate rush to safety.

I chose another direction.

-----

I heard the wind chimes first.

From an outcropping I could see the tent. It was sheltered among the tall, sharp rocks.

Pebbles scattered as I slid down the side of the rock face.

The tent itself was square, and of the kind favoured by nomadic tribes. The entrance was open to the night air. A decorative fringe ran along the top edge of the flap.

I approached cautiously.

Inside, the light from the fire was warm and cheerful. The ground was covered by a hand-woven carpet. Plush pillows and low tables accented the space. There was a good collection of books to one side, and some candles, here and there, for light. A privacy screen stood towards the back of the tent.

There were no occupants. It was as if they had just stepped out to visit the neighbors, leaving a light on behind them and the door unlocked. Clearly, not city dwellers.

Out of respect, I touched nothing.

I glanced at the books. The titles on the bookshelf. The volume resting open on the table.

Religious texts.

I frowned and bit my lower lip. This could go either way. I hoped this meant they held to the same code of hospitality observed by ancient cultures on Old Earth.

"The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in M'tzra'yim."

This could present an opportunity, I thought, a place to stand in any future negotiations between the native population and the offworlders.

The sound of the wind chimes was very relaxing.

I started to feel sore and slightly sleepy. My back hurt. Not really thinking it through, I removed my cloak and folded it neatly.

I was tired after my ordeal. I sat down on the carpet to the one side of the tent...

I will just close my eyes for a moment.

...and was soon overwhelmed by sleep.