Elpida placed her left hand against the black metal wall. The tiny ceramic ring mail links in the front of her gauntlet clicked against the surface as she flattened out her palm and fingers; forty minutes ago those subtle sounds would have been drowned beneath the distant roar of hail and wind outside the tomb, but Elpida was in deep now. The hurricane had been reduced to muffled static at the edge of the world. She spread her fingers and pressed, gently but firmly.
Ready.
You don’t gotta tell me every time, Elps, Howl grumbled. Already on it, see? Piece of cake. Wham bam, thank you tomb.
A hot flush shot down the length of Elpida’s left arm, like a slug of volcanic rock in an artery, originating as a sudden hard palpitation in her heart. The sensation of heat crested the meat and gristle of her shoulder and raced along her humerus. Her ulna and radius bones felt as if they vibrated for a split second; Kagami’s drones and Shilu’s raw observation had confirmed that was mere sensory illusion. Finally the heat concentrated in Elpida’s palm, tingling in her fingertips, then vanished, as if expelled through her gauntlet.
The black metal wall rippled, like a pool of tar disturbed by a rock — then it peeled away with a silent shudder, a sluggish mucus membrane withdrawing from a biochemical intruder.
Elpida quickly stepped back before the opening could reach maximum extent. She grabbed the submachine gun strapped around her left shoulder and braced the weapon against her hip with one hand.
On the other side of the irregular opening was yet another snatch of empty black corridor, truncated by the edges of the retreating wall, smooth and regular as a loop of petrified intestine. The darkness was painted the ghostly pale green of machine-enhanced night vision, seen through the visor of Elpida’s carapace helmet. The helmet’s on-board computer updated the map in the bottom right of her heads-up display with a tentative swoop of fresh passageway; the helmet’s built-in processor was no substitute for what Pheiri and Kagami could compile via the drone sensors, but that wasn’t an option now, beyond range of the main comms uplink.
Shilu ghosted past Elpida before the HUD completed the mapping update — a black scarecrow of razor edges and sharp spikes slipping through the new gap in the walls.
Shilu moved with absolute silence; her pointed legs looked as if they should click against the floor, and her metal body seemed as if it should clatter when she walked, but Elpida’s external helmet sensors picked up nothing but a whisper of displaced air. Somehow Shilu kept even that to a minimum. Elpida’s visor IFF settings highlighted Shilu with a thin outline of bright green in the rough shape of a person. The Necromancer was very difficult to see in the dark, even with assisted night vision. ‘Natural’ zombie low-light ocular capabilities stood no chance.
Keep sharp, Elps, Howl hissed. Eyes up!
Understood.
Elpida didn’t need the reminder — she felt frosty and clean and ready for anything — but she appreciated it regardless. This journey toward the core of the tomb had been nothing but repetition, and repetition in a potential combat situation heightened the danger of ambush, which was precisely what she was trying to avoid. She was taking no chances, hence the helmet’s night vision; she could see perfectly well in the dark, and Kuro knew that too.
This was the most dangerous moment of the advance — the second or two when Elpida and Shilu were on opposite sides of each new opening coaxed through the tomb-metal. Elpida turned quickly — left and right, covering the corridor with her submachine gun, helmet visor picking out shadows and discarding them as nothing. She took a step back and covered the rear, down through the tunnel of holes that she and Howl had cut through the deep guts of the tomb.
“Clear,” said Shilu, exactly two seconds after stepping through. Her voice was clipped and clear on Elpida’s helmet comms.
Elpida backed through the gap, joining Shilu in the next corridor. She quickly glanced left and right again, giving her HUD more data to chew on. More black corridor, more smooth emptiness, washed out by the pale flickering green of digital low-light image enhancement. Another wall to punch through on the way to Ooni and Ilyusha’s last known position.
Wall number one hundred and eight. Mission time: fifty seven minutes and thirty two seconds.
They were making even better progress than Elpida had hoped, but they were slowing now. Walking through walls was infinitely faster than trying to untangle the guts of the tomb by following the corridors. Elpida and Shilu were already three times deeper than the first expedition had gotten, the one which had been ambushed by Kuro on the way back. They had cut through wide passageways and ghosted across empty chambers in a straight line, punching through the parts of the tomb which still pretended they were for human-scale use. Eventually they had reached this densely knotted tangle of smooth black tunnels, most so narrow that they couldn’t stand shoulder-to-shoulder, so that each fresh opening torn in a new wall bought them barely another three steps of progress before the next.
At their rear, those same ragged openings were closing up behind them, cutting off the route they’d taken to get in. Like cold tar flowing back over a boulder, the black metal was slowly rippling shut. The final sliver of dark red illumination from Kagami’s drones was being choked off by the closing walls; Elpida and Shilu had left the drones behind at the limit of comms range, about fifteen minutes ago, where the strange interference from the core of the tomb rendered the drones blind and deaf.
Elpida paused and stared at that last shaft of red light still breaking through a narrow gap in the closing walls. She keyed her helmet comms. The uplink was still live, but drowned in static, as if she had opened a connection to the hurricane itself.
“Kaga, Pheiri,” she said. “Do you read?”
Static wailed and roared, broken by a flicker of sound like a wash of hailstones on metal.
“—mander— … —er— … —back—”
A snatch of Kagami’s voice. Pheiri replied with an acknowledgement ping, but the tone was warped by interference, the wrong note, smothered in static.
“We’re about to lose visual on the drones,” Elpida said. “Pull back, wait for contact.”
Three full seconds of static murk. Then Kagami again: “—ck you. Wait for— … —be dead before— … —reach you—”
Elpida didn’t need a clear line to know what Kagami had said. “Negative. Pull back, wait for contact. Don’t lose the drones by keeping them in the open. They have to take the long way back, start now. Pull back to Pheiri, wait for us to re-establish contact. That’s an order, Kagami.”
Four seconds of static. Five. Six. Seven. The black tomb metal was easing itself together like tar sealing over a wound, choking off the bloody red light from Kagami’s drones. Elpida’s night vision compensated, increasing the saturation of ghostly green, filling the violated corridors with sensor ghosts in every washed-out shadow.
Pira’s voice came over the comms, crackling with interference. “Drones— … —lling back. Good- … -uk, commander.”
“We’ll be home soon,” Elpida said. “Fireteam out.”
Elpida disconnected from the comms uplink, dropping back to local. The furthest gap in the walls finally closed up, sealing off the last shaft of light from the drones. Elpida’s night vision deepened and bloomed in the absolute darkness, coating the black walls with a patina of greenish white mould.
Shilu’s voice came clear over local comms. “Just us three now.”
Howl grinned behind the visor of Elpida’s helmet, taking control of her lips and tongue. “Glad you remember I’m here, cheese grater,” Howl hissed. “Just don’t try to stab Elps in the neck this time. We’re cool, for now.”
Shilu nodded.
Elpida took back control. “We both trust you, Shilu. I wouldn’t have you here otherwise. That’s just Howl’s way of expressing herself.”
Shilu nodded again.
The Necromancer — or ex-Necromancer — had dropped her human disguise the moment she was out of sight of the tomb chamber where Pheiri was parked. They’d managed to slip away without being spotted by the crowd of zombies still gathered in front of Pheiri, taking refuge beneath his bulk, but Elpida appreciated Shilu’s caution all the same; if the zombies she had fed in the name of Telokopolis suspected she was working alongside a Necromancer, that might undermine the seeds she had planted in their hearts. Shilu’s true nature needed to be kept a secret, until the day came when things could be different.
Shilu’s borrowed clothes, her soft brown skin, her long dark hair, it had all vanished beneath a body of razor-sharp black metal. Only her face remained human, a pale porcelain oval drained of colour, too perfect and poreless to be real.
Elpida was quietly impressed by Shilu. The Necromancer had required barely any instruction on the plan of advance. Elpida — via Howl — was to punch her way through each wall, then Shilu was to step through first, in case Kuro was waiting on the other side, before Elpida followed her through. Shilu moved with silent precision, sometimes faster than Elpida’s eyes could track, despite the awkward-looking sharp points that served for feet at the end of her black metal legs. She kept her right arm extended into a long blade, all the way from her elbow, ready to respond to potential ambush. She watched Elpida’s back so closely and effectively that even Howl had no complaints. Well, almost no complaints.
“Right, next wall,” Elpida said, stepping forward as Shilu moved to cover her rear again. She checked the map in her HUD; they were about halfway to Ooni’s last known position. Their track through the deep guts of the tomb formed a spear-thrust through the coiled layers of a conch shell, bypassing the apparently shifting corridors. Kagami had been very upset about that, but this technique rendered it meaningless. Whatever the tomb was doing, and why, did not matter. Elpida’s first priority was the recovery of her comrades. Mysteries could wait until everyone was safely inside Pheiri’s hull.
But she was very deep down now, and the way back was closed. A spear tip lost in an ocean of black meat, burrowing deeper toward the ghost of a voice. Elpida’s local comms was reaching out into the unknown ahead of them, pinging the headsets that Ooni and Ilyusha hopefully still had, hoping that proximity would overcome the local jamming, and that Ooni and Ilyusha were still listening, still conscious, still alive.
Elpida eyed the radio beacon indicator on one side of her HUD. It was repeating every five seconds. Still no response.
She put her hand against the next wall.
Howl?
What? Elps?
Are you ready? Are you holding up okay?
What, me? Howl scoffed. This is nothing, Elps. Network bullshit. I could fart on these walls and they’d open like wet paper. I’m already doing it, see?
The pulse of heat was already running down Elpida’s arm, that was true. The wall rippled once, then parted, peeling back like flesh falling away from rotten meat. The next corridor blossomed in the dark, empty bowels filled with the shadows of forgotten fluids. Shilu was past Elpida in a flash, a green outline flickering in the darkness.
Howl’s words didn’t add up.
For the first two dozen walls, Howl had whooped and cackled as the black metal had yielded to her network permissions. Elpida had barely needed to brush the fingertips of her gauntlet against the substance of the tomb to feel that hot pulse down her arm, the feeling of Howl hijacking the local network conditions with the techniques she had stolen from Perpetua. The metal had flowed apart without resistance, and stayed open for almost twenty minutes before the first shudders of closure.
As the descent had deepened, Howl had slowed. At first the delay hadn’t been noticeable. But by wall number sixty, Elpida had time to press her entire palm against the surface. By wall number eighty she had to prompt Howl to exert her network influence. By wall one hundred, Elpida was certain something was wrong.
Howl, she said. If you’re struggling, I need to know. We cannot get stuck down here in this tangle of passageways. You’re doing something difficult, untested, and dangerous. There’s no shame in telling me you’re tired.
Howl hissed through clenched teeth. I’m fine! Fucking hell, Elps. What are you even talking about? Getting cold feet, bitch-tits? What happened to not leaving anybody behind? Fuck is this, huh?
“Clear,” said Shilu.
Elpida stepped through the ragged gap, into another loop of petrified guts. She glanced left and right, filled out what she could of her HUD’s map, then turned to the next wall.
I am not proposing we leave anybody behind, Elpida thought. I’m asking if—
You’re fucking projecting, is what you’re doing! Howl hissed. Get on with it.
Elpida placed her hand against the next wall.
She counted. One second. Two seconds.
Howl?
What now!?
Answer my next question in good faith. This is very important.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Elpida felt Howl’s mouth open, angry and ready to bite. But she stayed her teeth.
Are you unaware that you’ve been slowing down? Elpida asked. Each wall we open, you get incrementally slower. Are you aware of that?
Silence filled Elpida’s mind, backed by the distant static of the storm, as if heard from deep underground. She felt the hot pulse flow down her arm, the fire-bright tingle in her palm and fingers. The wall rippled and parted. Beyond was a slightly wider corridor, twisting downward into greater darkness. Shadows flickered and jerked away from the green-white glow of Elpida’s night vision.
Shilu slipped through, a ghost to match the shadows. Elpida raised her gun.
Howl?
Howl let out a hiss of disgust. Fuck. Fuck, you’re right.
If you need to rest—
It’s not me. Fuck, Elps, it’s not me!
“Clear,” said Shilu. Elpida stepped through, then held up a fist to signal a pause. Shilu didn’t even nod, she just moved to cover Elpida’s back, head tracking left and right to the rear and flanks.
Howl, Elpida said. What does that mean?
It means it’s not me! Howl snapped. Means I didn’t realise. Some cunt has been slowing us down, pushing back against the network permissions. I didn’t see it until you pointed it out. Fuck. Fuck!
Alright. Focus. Who or what is pushing back against us?
Fuck knows! The tomb, that Kuro bitch? A Necromancer? I don’t know! I can’t explain what it’s like feeling through the network, it’s not like using regular senses. It’s like something reaching in and slowing my hand down while I’m trying to turn a key. But even that’s not right. I can compensate now, but … shit. Howl’s voice dropped to a low growl. Some fucker is hunting us.
We always knew that would happen, Howl. We will make difficult prey. Elpida keyed the local comms uplink. “Shilu, we have a developing situation.”
Elpida explained what Howl had told her, why the process had been slowing down. Shilu listened without comment, staring into Elpida’s visor with her big dark eyes. Night vision turned Shilu’s pale porcelain face into the green mask of a waterlogged corpse. Her features were whited-out, blurred to mere suggestions.
When Elpida finished, Shilu said, “Right. And?”
Shilu’s mouth didn’t move as she spoke. Her voice came over the local comms network, through the speakers built into Elpida’s helmet.
“You don’t have an opinion?” Elpida asked.
The Necromancer just stared, unblinking. “You’re in charge.”
“Alright then,” Elpida said, glancing up and down the current corridor, her submachine gun braced against her hip. Far behind them, the recent holes in the tomb’s structure were slowly sucking shut, the inching closures drawing closer. “My decision as Commander is that I want your opinion. You’re the one who’s going to have to fight close quarters if we get ambushed.”
Shilu shrugged. “I am confident I can repel a revenant in powered armour.”
“I know that,” Elpida said. “But what’s your opinion as a Necromancer? Could it be the tomb doing this, or something else?”
Shilu was motionless for a moment. Then she blinked. “It’s not the tomb. It’s another actor. Something or somebody else with a similar range of network permissions. That’s my opinion. It’s not knowledge.”
“Kuro?”
“Unknown,” Shilu said. Then she sighed over the comms, a very human gesture from that scarecrow of black metal, even if her body didn’t move. “We’ve come too far to give up now.”
“Agreed. Push on?”
Shilu nodded.
Elpida and Shilu pushed on through another three corridors of looping, winding, black-dyed intestines. They cut into the corner of a vast, echoing chamber which seemed too large for the depths of the tomb, walled with segments of stone between the sections of familiar black metal. They passed through a tight tangle of tubes and pipes which no zombie could have traversed without Howl’s stolen network permissions. Always the same pattern, with Shilu leading the way into each new incision.
The silent monotony was unyielding. It made Elpida glad that she had brought only Shilu and Howl. Nobody but a Telokopolan pilot or a Necromancer could have maintained their nerves and an alert state of mind under such conditions for such an extended period of time. Elpida wondered if anybody in her new cadre — save perhaps Pheiri — could have endured the crushing sense of descent into a darkness so thick that it seemed like living tissue.
Howl stayed silent as well, occasionally grumbling and hissing in the back of Elpida’s mind. Howl was another set of eyes, through Elpida’s own, and a sensor dipped into the surface of the network, watching for approaches that even Shilu wouldn’t see.
Elpida was fully aware that the ambush might never come. If Kuro understood what Shilu was, then she was unlikely to attempt a frontal assault a second time. Shilu would not be occupied with trying to cut a way out for the others. Elpida and Howl could protect themselves with the walls of the tomb, and Shilu would have a free hand to engage. Shilu wasn’t invincible, but she was bulletproof. In the close quarters of the tomb, with the advantage of her speed, if she caught Kuro, the Death’s Head would be helpless.
But Elpida was keenly cautious about the other possibility — that Kuro might manufacture an ambush to cut them off from each other. A low-powered submachine gun would not do much against powered armour, and Shilu might need time to cut through a wall to come to Elpida’s aid.
Hence the two magazines of explosive-tipped rounds inside the armoured pouch on Elpida’s thigh, and the third one loaded into her weapon. Not enough to break Kuro completely — that would require weaponry too dangerous to use in such tight quarters — but enough to give her pause, long enough for Shilu to rejoin Elpida, or for Howl to tear down the walls.
Elpida felt ready for anything. The plates of the armour carapace moved with her muscles, flexible and tight. The armoured coat over the top would hide her from casual glances. It was no Telokopolan hardshell suit, which would have compensated for her missing right forearm, but it was the best she had access to, and her comrades deserved everything she could give.
As Elpida emerged into yet another twisted corridor and joined Shilu, her helmet comms crackled with Shilu’s voice.
“Elpida. I think I would like to ask you a question. Can you speak and concentrate on our advance at the same time?”
“Sure. Can you?”
“Significantly better than you can.”
Show-off, Howl growled. Still don’t like her.
I gathered that.
“Then there’s no problem,” Elpida said out loud. “Go ahead.”
Shilu was quiet for a few moments, until the next wall was parted and she was slipping through, into a medium-sized chamber lined with strange machines, like banks of computers studded with dials.
“I believe that you would do this for any of your comrades,” Shilu said. Her voice murmured in Elpida’s ear, over the built-in helmet comms. “When you say you won’t leave anybody behind, you mean it. You stake your life on that principle. I agree with it. Considering what you’re trying to build, it’s the only way to act. Anything else risks a rapid collapse. Clear.”
Elpida stepped through and covered the room with her submachine gun. Nothing but metal and dying echoes. Shilu led the way straight across, spear-tip feet silent on the stone floor, following the HUD marker of Ooni’s last known location.
“Thank you, I think,” Elpida said over the comms. “But that’s not a question.”
“I’m exploring the necessary prerequisites.”
Elpida followed Shilu over to the next wall. She selected a section of upright black metal and pressed her hand against the surface.
Shilu continued. “I haven’t spent much time with you people—”
“Yet,” Elpida added.
“ … yet,” Shilu allowed. “But I already understand Ooni’s position in your group. You’ve attempted to redeem her for her past actions and allegiance.”
The black metal wall flowed open. Shilu stepped through, a ghost of negative colour in the night vision haze.
“She redeemed herself,” Elpida said. “Or at least she’s trying. You don’t approve? Neither did Kagami. Or Ilyusha. Or Pira herself.”
“On the contrary,” Shilu said. “It’s the only way to act. Clear.”
Elpida stepped through. Another corridor-tunnel, this one ridged and tight, winding away into the shadows like a dead snake. “The only way?”
Shilu was staring at Elpida, her pale white face almost blank under the warping effect of night vision. “Any ideology can offer death to your enemies. It’s not hard. Prehistoric, even. A better program might offer a place at the table for turncoats, but only if they turn on others in turn, only if they hate the out-group even more than those who were not converts.” Shilu paused. “But the best, the systems that work, all down human history, they offer the possibility of universal redemption. Even for the worst. Especially for the worst.”
Elpida stepped forward and put her hand on the next wall. “I think I can tell where you’re going with this.”
“I hope you can,” said Shilu. “Here’s my question. Does your Telokopolis have a place for the other Death’s Heads?”
What does this bitch think she’s saying? Howl hissed. The black metal wall flowed open again. Shilu darted through.
“In theory, yes,” Elpida replied. “If they all did as Ooni does.”
A moment of silence. Then, “Clear.”
Elpida stepped through.
“Theory isn’t good enough,” said Shilu. “I’m talking about practice. Entertain this thought experiment. What if when we reach Ooni and Ilyusha, she has killed all the Death’s Heads. Kuro, Cantrelle, all the others, they’re all dead. All except for Yola. She’s no threat, she’s been stripped out of her armour, and she’s unarmed. She’s begging for her life. What do you do with her?”
Elpida paused in the corridor and stared at Shilu. Her eyes were so large and dark, they were the only part of her not washed out by the sickly green of night vision.
“Is this a test?” Elpida asked.
“No. I’ve already agreed to be one of you. Telokopolis spoke to me too. I’m just … let’s say ‘hopeful’.”
Elpida took a deep breath inside the privacy of her helmet. She took the honest gamble.
“I wouldn’t kill Yola,” she said. “She’s their leader, and she voiced their ideology with such conviction. So, if I could make her see that it was a lie, if I could bring her into the fold of Telokopolis, I would. It would be a victory, to bring somebody like her around. A victory worth showing. The Death’s Heads are nothing compared to Telokopolis.” Elpida sighed. “But I don’t expect I’ll ever get a chance, because she and those around her will fight against any attempt to show them a better way. With infinite resources and infinite time, and without the pressure of … all this,” she gestured up and around, at the tomb, the storm, the world, “then sure. Of course. But in practice? I’ll kill them all to protect Telokopolis, to protect my comrades. You included.”
Shilu stared for a moment. Her lips did something which might have been a small smile, but it was impossible to be sure through the night vision glare off her porcelain face.
“You would accept anything into Telokopolis, wouldn’t you?” she said. “Former foes. The worst monsters. Necromancers.”
Elpida grinned. She was certain Shilu could see that even through the helmet. “I’m pretty sure it’s what I was made to do.”
Shilu nodded. “Let’s carry on.”
As Howl opened the next wall, Elpida kept talking; the paradoxical distraction of conversation kept her senses sharp and her concentration focused, away from the throbbing pain in her stump or the chafe and pinch of the carapace plates. The conversation was choppy and broken-up, conducted between the peeling of black metal and the covering of blind passageways, Shilu always one step ahead, a ghost in the green-white wash, slipping through the shadows.
“Serin mentioned that Death’s Heads are a recurring problem,” Elpida said. “They, or others like them, tend to recur over and over again, with new names for themselves, slight variations in ideology. You’re a Necromancer, you’ve been around a long time. Is that accurate?”
“Clear. Yes, that’s true. I’ve never paid them much attention. I find no need for them.”
“No need for them?”
A pause as Elpida opened the next wall. Was Shilu thinking? Trying to avoid responsibility for past actions?
“Some Necromancers tend to use them,” Shilu said. “Clear. Or groups like them. To interact with the wider mass of revenants without revealing themselves. Death’s Heads and those similar to them, they make very good pawns. Easily directed.”
“Really? How so?”
Shilu paused and glanced at Elpida’s faceplate. “You can’t work it out yourself?”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Ah,” said Shilu. She slipped through into another corridor as Elpida stepped back. “Clear. As I understand it, you give them a little power, and they’ll do anything you ask. Give them nanomachines, weapons, a little food. Any leg-up on the local populations they’re set against. As Serin said, it’s a recurring pattern, but Necromancers encourage it quietly. Some Necromancers.”
“And how do you feel about them, Shilu?”
Shilu took a deep breath; Elpida could hear it over the comms, but Shilu’s face didn’t move. “I feel like none of this should exist. Death’s Heads included.”
“Not even us? Us and Telokopolis?”
“Small price to pay.”
Elpida allowed herself a smile. “We’ll bring you round yet. There’s place for you and yours in Telokopolis, too.”
“We had a place,” Shilu said. “In death. But barring that, this is acceptable.”
Howl took over Elpida’s lips and tongue. “Glad to hear it, cheese grater.”
“Thank you, Howl,” said Shilu.
Howl tutted and hissed inside Elpida’s mind. Elpida almost laughed, but she didn’t allow herself to relax far enough to permit that. Concentration was still paramount priority. She followed Shilu into the next tight, tangled corridor.
“What about Serin’s allegiance?” Elpida asked as she scanned the darkness to the left and right, shadows devoured by green phantoms. This corridor was especially long, stretching off into the darkness in both directions, vanishing into a ghostly haze under her night vision. “When I met her, she wore a symbol, a crescent and a line, the one I’ve adapted for Telokopolis. She explained it a little, but I’ve never gotten a straight answer out of her. The Death’s Heads called them ‘wreckers and murderers’. What does that mean?”
“It’s a much looser collection of allied ideologies,” Shilu said. “And I know even less about them than I do the Death’s Heads. I suspect they descend from—”
Shilu’s voice cut off with a crackle of comms interference. The Necromancer twisted away from Elpida, pivoting on one spear-tip foot, her other arm flowing into a second blade. Elpida brought her submachine gun up, braced against her hip.
A figure stood in the distance, about fifty feet away, filling the narrow corridor, right out in the open.
Bulky powered armour, festooned and studded with built-in weaponry, glowing like a green ghost in Elpida’s night vision. The back-mounted power-plant was emitting an erratic heat signature, as if damaged and venting gasses; Elpida’s visor flickered with radiation overspill warnings — pointless for a zombie, but interesting information. The helmet raced through IFF readings for the figure’s weapons, labelling plasma signatures and energy readouts, quivering over activation warnings.
Kuro.
Shilu flickered forward, faster than Elpida’s eyes could follow.
Kuro held out one hand, palm flat; the universal signal for ‘stop’. Elpida’s visor flickered with a conspicuous absence of weapon activation warnings.
“Shilu, hold,” Elpida said over comms.
Shilu stopped, dead still, halfway between Elpida and the ghostly figure of Kuro’s armour. Elpida quickly weighed her options. This was very likely a trap, intended to draw Shilu away from Elpida. But Kuro could activate her weapon systems at any moment, forcing a retreat. Clever move, but Howl could simply encase them in a piece of the tomb metal, neutralising Kuro’s presumed strategy.
Something was wrong here.
Elpida said into comms: “Shilu, pull back to me. Prepare to take cover. I think she’s—”
Kuro’s external speakers buzzed and clicked, coming online. Her voice emerged first as a hissing mumble, dirty with static, echoing down the tunnel. She cleared something wet and clotted from her throat.
“I want to make a deal,” said Kuro.
Elpida opened her own external helmet speakers as well. She amplified her voice, booming out into the dark. “Explain.”
Kuro’s voice hissed from her speakers. “You want yours. I want mine. They’re both heading to the same place. Probably in it now. Call off your protoplasmic pet, leave mine, and you can have your scraps.”
Protoplasmic pet? Must be Iriko.
Elpida shouted, “We’re not in contact with her.”
A moment of silence from Kuro. Then, “The deal stands. We are going in the same direction. Call off yours, and you can have your lost lambs.”
Shilu spoke over the comms, “Ooni and Ilyusha, in return for letting the Death’s Heads go. Yes or no, Elpida?”
“Answer should be obvious,” Elpida hissed, then activated her externals again. “Alright, Kuro. But you stay at that distance. One flicker of weaponry and Shilu here will shuck you like shellfish. Where are—”
Ping — Elpida received a data-packet request via her helmet comms. It flickered up on the left of her HUD, signed with a black skull.
“Right,” she hissed. Howl?
It’s clean! Howl snapped. Elpida accepted the data packet. Her HUD’s map flowered with a field of rooms and corridors, with a single red marker in a sealed-off chamber. It was closer than she’d thought, less than five minutes away, right in the core of the tomb structure.
“That’s our comrades?” Elpida shouted.
Gotta be a trap! Howl snorted.
My thoughts as well, Elpida confirmed. We’ll turn it against her. She’s given us something, even if it’s a lie.
Kuro’s speakers crackled. “Alive or dead. But you have to call off your—”
Thoomp!
A nearby explosive detonation, muffled behind layers of wall and black metal and inscrutable stone. Elpida’s helmet visor flashed with directional warnings for sound and pressure. A second later — thoomp! — another. Hand-held size. A pair of grenades. Close.
Kuro turned away and tore through the nearest wall like a rock hurled through a black waterfall. Shilu flickered back to Elpida’s shoulder.
Elpida didn’t need the map update to tell where the explosions had come from, because somebody had just replied to the standing comms ping — an automated pickup signal, from two headsets going loud, announcing they were within range. Elpida keyed the local network and reached out, linking up with the invitation.
“Ooni, Illy, this is Elpida. Respond—”
“Whooo! Yeah! Fuck you too!” Ilyusha whooped and roared down the restored uplink, her battle cry cut off by the sudden thunk-boom-thunk-boom of her shotgun.
Elpida turned and slammed her hand against the next wall of black metal.
Howl, get us in there, double-time!