hairline fracture of the foreleg. It could walk but couldn’t run. Archer had suffered a long and deep gash right down the side of his chest which kept flowing blood. But the giant made faces at it, like it was hardly worth bothering about.
Rock slapped some supersalve on the wound and then some glue bandage which formed a millimeter thick plastic covering saturated with vitamins and antibiotics and God knew what all that Shecter and his boys had pumped in.
Detroit had a broken hand but it was on his bionic arm. The original appendage was the victim of a team of expert martial arts assassins. The new one worked just as good, even better. And with a few quick adjustments with pliers and micro-screwdriver he’d have it in functioning order again.
“Where the hell are we,” Detroit asked as the three of them gathered around the remaining ’brids who were as shook up as animals could be and still stand. Their human masters weren’t faring much better either. All of them stood there reeling, dizzy to the core of their beings, pain covering every square inch. How could they be alive? Yet here they were!
“I must say I’ve never seen a place listed like this—even on the conjecture-maps,” Rockson muttered dryly. “I mean, it’s not normal for these formations to be in this part of the country. But what the hell do I know.”
“Thank the gods we’ve got on these outfits and nasal plugs,” Chen said as he scanned around into the glowing tunnels, each lit with a different hue—blue, red, green, brilliant white. “We’d be dead men already. I can feel the sulphur and toxic gases on my tongue. Keep your mouths closed and just breathe through the nose gear. This stuff’s bad.”
“IT HOOOOOTTT,” Archer bellowed reaching down to rip off his oversized alumnu-jumpsuit.
“No, Archer! Leave it on!” Rockson scolded him, looking sternly at the giant. “You’ll really burn if you take it off.” The temp gauge on Rock’s Combat Watch red 115°. “It’s hot out there.”
Archer grumbled and made noises like a bear in mating season, but he kept it on, getting the message.
“We’re never going to climb back up there, man,” Detroit said whistling as they all gazed up. They couldn’t even see the sky, just too many twists and turns in the deep cavern’s corkscrew well. But it—the sky—was up there somewhere.
Rock looked down with disgust welling in his chest. Men who fell into deep chasms never came up. He couldn’t think of one. A whole C.C. expeditionary force had been lost just two years before in an earthquake zone. A hundred and twelve men, gone without a trace, like dust back into the earth.
Rock gazed down each of the tunnel systems. There had to be a way out of here. He felt it. Something was not natural about this place.
“What the hell makes this light?” Detroit wondered out loud.
“I’ve heard of natural formations giving off light,” Chen replied as he did some martial arts exercises, standing on one leg to center himself, breathing slowly and deeply into perfect posture. “Everything from green to blue to purple glows. But never in a volcanic formation. Should be dark as a dungeon, way down in the mines.”
“We’ve got to pick a tunnel, men,” Rockson said, addressing them all. “I don’t know which way to go, I can’t lie to you. So, let’s vote on it. Just close your eyes and all mediate on it for a moment. Try to feel your sixth—and seventh for that matter—sense. Between us, we should come out okay.”
They closed their eyes and tried to feel the way out. The way through the earth to air and light above. Already, though they didn’t want to think about it too hard, they were getting claustrophobic. It was like a tomb down here. Everything closing in, pressing down on them. The earth continued to rumble once in a while and shake them so everything got a little dusty. Then subsided quickly.
“I say that greenish tunnel with rounded sides,” Chen spoke up first.
Rock slapped some supersalve on the wound and then some glue bandage which formed a millimeter thick plastic covering saturated with vitamins and antibiotics and God knew what all that Shecter and his boys had pumped in.
Detroit had a broken hand but it was on his bionic arm. The original appendage was the victim of a team of expert martial arts assassins. The new one worked just as good, even better. And with a few quick adjustments with pliers and micro-screwdriver he’d have it in functioning order again.
“Where the hell are we,” Detroit asked as the three of them gathered around the remaining ’brids who were as shook up as animals could be and still stand. Their human masters weren’t faring much better either. All of them stood there reeling, dizzy to the core of their beings, pain covering every square inch. How could they be alive? Yet here they were!
“I must say I’ve never seen a place listed like this—even on the conjecture-maps,” Rockson muttered dryly. “I mean, it’s not normal for these formations to be in this part of the country. But what the hell do I know.”
“Thank the gods we’ve got on these outfits and nasal plugs,” Chen said as he scanned around into the glowing tunnels, each lit with a different hue—blue, red, green, brilliant white. “We’d be dead men already. I can feel the sulphur and toxic gases on my tongue. Keep your mouths closed and just breathe through the nose gear. This stuff’s bad.”
“IT HOOOOOTTT,” Archer bellowed reaching down to rip off his oversized alumnu-jumpsuit.
“No, Archer! Leave it on!” Rockson scolded him, looking sternly at the giant. “You’ll really burn if you take it off.” The temp gauge on Rock’s Combat Watch red 115°. “It’s hot out there.”
Archer grumbled and made noises like a bear in mating season, but he kept it on, getting the message.
“We’re never going to climb back up there, man,” Detroit said whistling as they all gazed up. They couldn’t even see the sky, just too many twists and turns in the deep cavern’s corkscrew well. But it—the sky—was up there somewhere.
Rock looked down with disgust welling in his chest. Men who fell into deep chasms never came up. He couldn’t think of one. A whole C.C. expeditionary force had been lost just two years before in an earthquake zone. A hundred and twelve men, gone without a trace, like dust back into the earth.
Rock gazed down each of the tunnel systems. There had to be a way out of here. He felt it. Something was not natural about this place.
“What the hell makes this light?” Detroit wondered out loud.
“I’ve heard of natural formations giving off light,” Chen replied as he did some martial arts exercises, standing on one leg to center himself, breathing slowly and deeply into perfect posture. “Everything from green to blue to purple glows. But never in a volcanic formation. Should be dark as a dungeon, way down in the mines.”
“We’ve got to pick a tunnel, men,” Rockson said, addressing them all. “I don’t know which way to go, I can’t lie to you. So, let’s vote on it. Just close your eyes and all mediate on it for a moment. Try to feel your sixth—and seventh for that matter—sense. Between us, we should come out okay.”
They closed their eyes and tried to feel the way out. The way through the earth to air and light above. Already, though they didn’t want to think about it too hard, they were getting claustrophobic. It was like a tomb down here. Everything closing in, pressing down on them. The earth continued to rumble once in a while and shake them so everything got a little dusty. Then subsided quickly.
“I say that greenish tunnel with rounded sides,” Chen spoke up first.
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