it?”
“This is a verse in the Book of Lamentations, mourning the destruction of Jerusalem and Solomon’s Temple,” Conrad said. “But Lamentations was written more than three centuries after the time of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. So this warning here is either lamenting something that won’t happen for hundreds of years, or it’s referring to something in the past that we don’t know about. Something that happened to the Queen of Sheba and her people.”
“Whatever, it’s a warning,” Hank said, unconcerned. “A monster myth. Like that sign over the gates of hell in Dante’s poem that says ‘Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.’”
“Something like that, Hank.”
Hank put on a brave face and grinned. “Then what are we waiting for? If we’re lucky, Smith and his goons are already extra crispy, and all the gold and XM here are ours for the taking.”
NIANTIC LINKS
Luizi Crater
CHAPTER 15
A s they made their way down the big tunnel, weapons at the ready, Conrad could practically hear the sweet, soothing voice of Serena Serghetti in his head, as if she were teaching a school of African children in God’s great outdoors.
Enter through the narrow gate, little ones. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.
“Hank, maybe we’ve made a mistake,” he started to say when Hank cut him off.
“Shhh. Listen.”
There was a woman’s shriek in the distance, from somewhere deep and far below.
Hank bolted, and Conrad had to run to keep up with him, slaloming through shiny metal stalagmites to the lip of a gallery that spiraled down the side wall of an even larger subterranean structure.
Conrad couldn’t believe what he saw down below. He glanced over at Hank, who saw it too. Hank’s lips were moving, but if he said anything, Conrad didn’t hear him. He didn’t need to. Hank’s expression in the ghastly light was all he needed to see. Words could not have been more articulate.
Several stories below was some kind of cosmic lava pool. It reminded Conrad of the crater at Mount Nyiragongo, except it glowed an unnatural fluorescent purplish-red and crackled with shocks of energy.
Conrad asked in a hushed tone, “Is that the classified stuff you weren’t supposed to talk about?”
“Dark XM... Chaotic matter... Pick your name,” Hank said. “It’s only been theory until now. I saw it in Afghanistan, but I had no idea what it was at the time.”
Now and again a tesla-like bolt would streak out of the throbbing mass, and in the toxic light they saw what appeared to be demonic shapes at the side of the pool.
Devil figures.
“What the hell?” Conrad asked.
Hank replied, “You got that right.”
“What are those things?”
“Mercs from Strategic Explorations,” Hank told him. “They’re kitted out in the latest in extremo-ware. I’m guessing the tall one is Smith and the short one is Chen. If you get a chance to kill them, do it. Apparently, you get a drive-on right through the pearly gates to the top level of heaven.”
Conrad could see how the asbestos clean suits, oxygen hooks and guns at the waists and hanging off the shoulders conspired to make the mercs look more mythological than human.
Now, through the strobing light, Conrad watched in horror as the tall one Hank said was Antoine Smith gestured to two of his guards, who pushed a helpless African woman, hands tied and legs flailing, into the pulsating pool.
“Did you see that?” Conrad almost shouted in Hank’s ear. “Who was that woman? Where did they nab her?”
Hank shook his head. “Some villager from somewhere.”
Conrad said, “It almost looked like a sacrifice.”
“Yeah, to science,” Hank said. “They’re testing the effects of dark XM on humans, and we’ve already seen what that looks like.”
Conrad looked down at the bubbling cauldron. For a ghastly moment, the woman’s shape flashed green in the sludge, and then a wispy vapor rose
“This is a verse in the Book of Lamentations, mourning the destruction of Jerusalem and Solomon’s Temple,” Conrad said. “But Lamentations was written more than three centuries after the time of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. So this warning here is either lamenting something that won’t happen for hundreds of years, or it’s referring to something in the past that we don’t know about. Something that happened to the Queen of Sheba and her people.”
“Whatever, it’s a warning,” Hank said, unconcerned. “A monster myth. Like that sign over the gates of hell in Dante’s poem that says ‘Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.’”
“Something like that, Hank.”
Hank put on a brave face and grinned. “Then what are we waiting for? If we’re lucky, Smith and his goons are already extra crispy, and all the gold and XM here are ours for the taking.”
NIANTIC LINKS
Luizi Crater
CHAPTER 15
A s they made their way down the big tunnel, weapons at the ready, Conrad could practically hear the sweet, soothing voice of Serena Serghetti in his head, as if she were teaching a school of African children in God’s great outdoors.
Enter through the narrow gate, little ones. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.
“Hank, maybe we’ve made a mistake,” he started to say when Hank cut him off.
“Shhh. Listen.”
There was a woman’s shriek in the distance, from somewhere deep and far below.
Hank bolted, and Conrad had to run to keep up with him, slaloming through shiny metal stalagmites to the lip of a gallery that spiraled down the side wall of an even larger subterranean structure.
Conrad couldn’t believe what he saw down below. He glanced over at Hank, who saw it too. Hank’s lips were moving, but if he said anything, Conrad didn’t hear him. He didn’t need to. Hank’s expression in the ghastly light was all he needed to see. Words could not have been more articulate.
Several stories below was some kind of cosmic lava pool. It reminded Conrad of the crater at Mount Nyiragongo, except it glowed an unnatural fluorescent purplish-red and crackled with shocks of energy.
Conrad asked in a hushed tone, “Is that the classified stuff you weren’t supposed to talk about?”
“Dark XM... Chaotic matter... Pick your name,” Hank said. “It’s only been theory until now. I saw it in Afghanistan, but I had no idea what it was at the time.”
Now and again a tesla-like bolt would streak out of the throbbing mass, and in the toxic light they saw what appeared to be demonic shapes at the side of the pool.
Devil figures.
“What the hell?” Conrad asked.
Hank replied, “You got that right.”
“What are those things?”
“Mercs from Strategic Explorations,” Hank told him. “They’re kitted out in the latest in extremo-ware. I’m guessing the tall one is Smith and the short one is Chen. If you get a chance to kill them, do it. Apparently, you get a drive-on right through the pearly gates to the top level of heaven.”
Conrad could see how the asbestos clean suits, oxygen hooks and guns at the waists and hanging off the shoulders conspired to make the mercs look more mythological than human.
Now, through the strobing light, Conrad watched in horror as the tall one Hank said was Antoine Smith gestured to two of his guards, who pushed a helpless African woman, hands tied and legs flailing, into the pulsating pool.
“Did you see that?” Conrad almost shouted in Hank’s ear. “Who was that woman? Where did they nab her?”
Hank shook his head. “Some villager from somewhere.”
Conrad said, “It almost looked like a sacrifice.”
“Yeah, to science,” Hank said. “They’re testing the effects of dark XM on humans, and we’ve already seen what that looks like.”
Conrad looked down at the bubbling cauldron. For a ghastly moment, the woman’s shape flashed green in the sludge, and then a wispy vapor rose
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