“Did I say you’d have to do that?” Eli gestured ahead. “The leader knew, just like she knew about the supernova without bein’ told. She said you’d be tired. You don’t have to walk six kilometers, not even one. Think you can manage fifty yards?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all I’m asking. After that it’s comfort city. See ’em yet?”
Celine saw them. Steel rails three feet apart, with wooden sleepers between, began at a buffer in the middle of the tunnel. Two cars, five feet wide and ten feet long, sat on the rails.
“Runs straight to headquarters,” Eli said. “Electric power, or hand-pumping if you want or need it. We’ll use the ’lectric today. The leader told me to get you to her in good condition. It’s better than defilers deserve, but it’s orders.” He motioned to Reza and Jenny, who were already standing by the cars. “On board.”
The cars were open, their bodies formed from a single piece of molded graphite composite. The seats seemed at first of the same material, but they were soft to the touch and gave luxuriously under Celine’s weight. She settled back with a sigh. Five minutes of this much comfort, and it would be hard to remain awake. The only car controls that she could see were two foot pedals in front of Eli. She looked around. Wilmer and Celine sat right behind Eli, with Reza and Jenny behind them. Two uniformed women at the back rode shotgun — literally. Their weapons were old-fashioned, but armed and ready.
Eli pressed the right pedal and the car moved forward with a steady surge of acceleration. When the speed leveled off they were probably moving at no more than twenty miles an hour, but the low roof and uncertain light made it seem to Celine that the dark board walls flashed past at monstrous speed. The tunnel had become almost straight, descending steadily. She tried to estimate the gradient. Even if it were as little as one in fifty, six kilometers of this would plunge them a thousand feet underground — more than enough to shield completely from the gamma pulse. With the rest of Earth devastated, the technology of this mole group might have come through unscathed.
Reza leaned over Celine’s shoulder. “I don’t understand what’s going on here,” he said loudly. “There’s no way that all this could have been built after Supernova Alpha hit. This place must be ten years old at least.”
Maybe Jenny hadn’t delivered Celine’s order to remain silent, or maybe Reza in his present strange state had misunderstood. It made no difference, because Eli was turning eagerly in his seat to face them.
“Old? It sure is! We’ve been buildin’ here for twenty year an’ more. We knew it was comin’!”
“You knew about the supernova?” Wilmer asked. “You predicted it. How?”
“Why, it was prophesied. In the leader’s writings, long before she was a martyr to the cause. She knew. She said the supernova would come, and we would go from strength to strength. We have, and we will.” Eli’s face was alive with rare excitement. “ ’You must continue the labor, as we have labored together for fifteen years. In this dark hour, take comfort. Do not fear for me, nor grieve at my leaving. Labor on. Very soon, within this mortal lifetime, I will return to you.’ “
Celine hoped that the others would know enough to keep quiet. Reza and Wilmer, unknowing, had found the button that worked for Eli and the Legion of Argos: evangelical zeal.
“ ’Before the second prophecies of the Eye of God, there will be certain proof that my resurrection is imminent.’ “ The voices of the two women added to Eli’s, in a slow, chanted litany that echoed along the dark tunnel. “ ’There will be portents. When these signs appear, prepare for my return: Another sun will rise in the southern sky, turning night into day. Winter will become summer. Heat will draw from the seas the poison fogs of contagion, dropping their pestilence on the land. Fire and floods will sweep away nations and powers and principalities. Hot winds will scourge the face of Earth, scattering it like dust across the whole world. Lightning from afar will shatter the false temples of Mammon and destroy the fools who seek to defile the face of Heaven. In that same hour, as the trappings of false governance are broken, you will come to me. I will rise again, as our star rises. The Eye of God will prophesy, and the holy work of cleansing our nation and our world will begin. This time there will be no turning back, no quarter given.’ “
The car was slowing. Celine had felt her ears pop twice, more evidence that they were riding deeper and deeper below ground. The seat was as comfortable as ever, but any fear of nodding off was long gone. The Eye of God. The group had been known as the Legion of Argos long before its charismatic leader rose to notoriety. The Schiaparelli had already boosted away from Earth orbit by the time of the trial, but beamed radio reports provided coverage. The “Eye of God” — Celine would surely remember the woman’s name if she were less tired — had demanded absolute obedience from disciples and followers. As evidence of commitment to the causes of the Legion, she had directed a group of recruits to kill the four judges who had ruled against her in a property dispute. They had done that — and much more.
Celine felt her stomach tighten. Eli must be a minor player in the organization. But he, or one of the armed women sitting at the rear of the car, could have been in that group of blood-besotted recruits. And the Mars crew were defilers of Heaven. Better hope that obedience to the orders of the leader remained absolute. The Eye of God wanted the crew to arrive in good condition.
The holy work of cleansing. As the car stopped and Celine descended, she stared again at the emblem on Eli’s tunic. The scarlet talon grasping the blue-green globe of Earth. It made sense now, but only as a symbol of insanity.
How many people were in the Legion of Argos? Was the group big enough to be a national threat? One thing was sure, Eli was not about to tell her.
They were descending again, this time in a regular elevator. Celine could not be sure that it needed microchips for its operation, although almost every device made in the past thirty years had chips in it somewhere. Suppose they were a thousand feet down. Then the natural shielding of Earth’s crust should damp below danger level any electromagnetic pulse from Supernova Alpha.
Wilmer would be able to tell her in a moment at what depth that was true, but now the elevator door had opened. Eli was urging them forward, remaining inside himself.
No guns, no threats? It seemed that way. Celine walked from the elevator into a pleasantly furnished executive office. Half a dozen padded chairs were grouped around a glass-topped coffee table. On the table sat a painted samovar and a tray of cups. At the other side of the room a longer table formed a T-shape with a big desk at one end of it. The oddity was that Celine could see no telcoms, no displays, and no terminals.
And no guards. Only one other person was present, sitting in a chair by the coffee table. She smiled warmly and beckoned the new arrivals to come forward and join her.
“I know you are terribly tired,” she said. “It won’t make you feel any better, but let me tell you that at the moment I myself am hardly able to stay awake. I wanted to spend just a few minutes with you, before we all collapse into bed. Please sit down.”
She was a big woman, full-figured, probably close to six feet when she was standing up. Her hair was long and auburn, piled up onto the top of her head, and she had a pale, unblemished complexion and clear skin. Her eyes were bright gray, with a touch of golden brown at the center of the irises. At the moment the skin beneath them was dark-smudged with weariness. Her age might be anything from forty upward. The voice was warm and musical, with careful diction and soft vowels. Celine tried to analyze the accent, and decided that the speaker was native-born American, probably from somewhere like Tennessee. Her manner was utterly unlike Eli’s wooden personality.