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Pulsar Sky (Space Opera)
15.1 - Down Deep

15.1 - Down Deep

Amethyst planet

Unknown System

The fall had been painful but could have been a lot worse and Grace was relieved to have not been injured. The tunnels had an eerie, unnerving quality to them that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Perhaps it was the fact that they were trapped underground on a long-dead planet that had been destroyed intentionally or that she was, still stuck with this military team, relying on them if she had any chance of ever getting home.

Her slate was giving her a decent readout of the tunnel system. Although they were complex, she couldn’t ascertain exactly what they were designed for, it seemed they were man-made and they were now seeing fittings for artificial light every couple of meters. That suggested the risk of encountering a giant worm was minimal.

The planet’s annihilation suggested a prolonged war, and these tunnels could have been part of a defensive effort against invaders. Whether they had been used for that purpose was another matter. Grace noted the tunnels were quite smooth, and she was just pleased there was enough room to walk upright. Even Chase, who was a good ten or fifteen centimetres taller than her, had no problem manoeuvring.

She looked down at her slate, which drew the map appearing in front of her as she walked as quickly as her sensors could generate it. Now showing there was a fork in the path up ahead. Rather than continuing straight, the tunnel split off like a Y in two opposing directions.

“Which way do you want to go?” she asked Chase. “Left or right?”

He looked thoughtful. “What do you think?”

“Right. Definitely right,” replied Grace.

“See, I was thinking left,” said Chase with a slight grin.

He did that sometimes, Grace had noticed—grinning at the oddest moments.

“Most species are dominated by their right hand. It makes sense that the right path would be the one to follow,” said Grace.

“Most humans, certainly. We’ve got no data for whoever built this place,” said Chase. “Are you able to see what’s down either route?”

Grace zoomed out on her slate, getting a larger look at the cave networks. “It’s still more tunnels for the foreseeable future,” she explained.

“Well, then left it is,” said Chase, turning toward the left fork.

Grace ran her hand along the cold wall where the path diverged, letting Chase walk on ahead. With his flashlight offering the slightest hint of illumination. When they entered, she’d started running a program on her slate that marked the way. Grace called it digital breadcrumbs, so they could find their way out again if they had to double back.

She had no luck finding a direction that offered a way to another access point on the surface yet. The path seemed to get narrower. Where before there had been enough room for two to walk side by side, it was now limited to single file. Such a bottleneck would certainly be certainly an advantage if these tunnels were being defended.

Suddenly, something dropped from the tunnel’s ceiling. Chase was quick to dive out of the way, and without thinking, Grace jumped forward and grabbed him, pulling him safely out of the path of the large metallic blade swinging in front of them.

“Was that a booby-trap?” Chase asked, his voice angry.

“You all right?” Grace asked, regaining her composure.

“Yeah, thanks to you,” he said.

“Damn right, thanks to me.”

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“Should have gone right,” Chase muttered.

“I told you that.”

“Well, if they have traps like these, we’re close to finding something good,” said Chase.

“That’s most certainly not how any of this works,” explained Grace. “Sometimes there’s just dangerous things, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Well, more fool you,” said Chase.

Grace looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to find the score of the century, something you can make money with. If you’d let me die, you’d be able to abscond with anything you wanted.”

“Hardly,” said Grace. “It’s not like Scott and Wokoma would let me just walk out of here alone.”

“Perhaps not,” said Chase, “but there are several shuttles you could have used to get back to the Trafalgar.”

“You would have made a terrible thief Chase. You should stay in the military.”

Chase laughed. “Yeah, it’s not something I would be particularly good at,” he admitted. “But I appreciate you looking out for me. I really do.”

“You’re welcome,” Grace replied, not as icily as she’d expected.

The tunnel continued to narrow, but there was still room for them to make progress. Grace checked on her slate and noting there appeared to be room up ahead, a large open space.

Chase took out his canteen and offered her some water. Grace had brought none of her own, not having had a chance to grab any since being abandoned back on the Nomadic, but accepted it and took a quick swig. They continued through the narrow walkway until they came to a wooden door. Chase put his hand on it.

“Wait,” said Grace. “Let me run an analysis.” She was keen to find out if there was anything familiar in the wood that had been used, presumably some kind of local tree. The readings were very similar to Earth plants that humans had been transplanted all around the Alpha Persei cluster.

“Is that oak?” asked Chase, running his hand over the door.

“Sure looks like it,” she agreed. “It’s an eighty-seven per cent match.”

There was a small metallic handle with a ring-shaped opener. Chase turned it and felt a latch give way. He pushed the door, which opened with a creak that, considering the lack of any other sound, echoed around the cave walls as if bellowing from a sound system. He shone his flashlight into the room before stepping in to make sure no one else was there to greet them.

The room was large. The ceiling was almost twice as high as it had been in the corridor outside, and some tables and chairs appeared to be made from the same substance as the door.

“What do you think this is?” asked Grace.

“Some sort of meeting hall. Dining room, perhaps,” suggested Chase.

“That makes sense,” If they were based down here, they’d need somewhere to eat, whilst sheltering from aerial bombardment. “But where’s the kitchen?” she asked, pointing out that the room was completely isolated. “It looks like the tunnel continues on the other side of that wall,” said Grace, checking her slate. The basic graphic readout showed a wireframe 3D model of the environment.

Chase tapped on the wall, which sounded hollow. “Seems like someone bricked this up at some point,” he said. “Want to head back and try the other path?” he suggested.

“Good idea,”

“Maybe we should take a moment first,” said Chase.

Maybe he was a better leader than she had realised. He didn’t seem that out of breath, but Grace certainly was. That’s what strong leaders were supposed to do: allow those under them to stay at full strength without feeling the need to ask. She sat down at the table and put her slate down.