“This wasn’t my idea, you know,” he said to Rhengar’s back as the scentirrii frogmarched him back the way he had come; past the trench equipment, through the alchemical and library chambers towards the temple. Dhuyumirrii and their acolytes scurried about as he was escorted across the main temple chamber and out of the ornate entrance on the large thoroughfare tunnel. Masses of Chatts moved along it in well-ordered ranks, the only allowance to chaos was the haste with which they were moving. He assumed that it was not the weight of written law that made them obey but rather instructional semiochemicals lacing the atmosphere, filtered through the natural air conditioning of the nest, impelling them to comply.
The few Urmen that were allowed access to this level were directed down side passages or cloister tunnels by scentirrii that took up positions to direct traffic flow. A defence plan was being put into operation.
A squad of scentirrii ran down past them, their powerful legs barely containing their springing step in the confines of the tunnel. Then he heard the faint but recognisable judder of a Lewis gun and the dull, muffled thud of an explosion reverberated through his feet.
Great. What the hell else could possibly go wrong?
EDITH BELL LOOKED blearily around the chamber. The slumped Tommies around her were beginning to stir. The feeling of rapture was wearing off. Edith, in her naivety, could only compare it to that brief, special moment upon waking in the warmth of one’s bed, when one is dozily blissful, before the cares of the day encroach and sully the transitory moment of peace. Some soldiers were already sitting with their heads in their hands, wondering what the hell had happened. For some, coming down from the drug-induced euphoria left them feeling depressed and melancholic. Others still wore blissfully stupid smiles. Captain Grantham sat staring into space. He was lost in his own thoughts and they didn’t seem to be happy ones.
Napoo, who seemed to have recovered faster than they had, was already moving from one soldier to another, slapping them to bring them round.
“Yes, thank you, Napoo. That will be enough of that,” said Sister Fenton, who was already standing, if a little shakily, but determined to show that she would let no insect muddle her mind.
“But the Khungarrii dhuyumirrii’s blessing is strong,” he said, unused to having his behaviour challenged.
“Yes, some sort of natural opiate, no doubt,” said Sister Fenton. She smoothed out her blue nurse’s uniform in an attempt to recover her authority and decorum, although her apron now hung out of the garderobe as a makeshift signal.
“I beg your pardon, Sister?” said Edith.
“The insect sprayed us with some sort of opiate, hoping to keep us docile and subservient. Nurse Bell, Abbott, start checking the men, if you would. Some may have had an adverse reaction.”
Edith got unsteadily to her feet and had to brace herself against the wall as a brief wave of nausea washed over her, spots dancing before her eyes.
“Give a gel a hand,” groaned Abbott. Edith clasped her arm and pulled. There was a groan as Nellie raised herself up, smoothed out her ankle-length khaki dress and turned to her with an irritatingly chirpy smile. “Don’t mind me, Edi. I’ve had worse hangovers down the Estaminet in Sans German. Mind you some of these boys don’t look as if they’ve handled it very well.”
The chamber was filling with groans and sighs as the men came down from their non-consensual high.
Edith spotted the Padre sat by the door, his shoulders slumped. She hadn’t noticed him being returned to the chamber, but something terrible must have happened to reduce him to this state.
“Padre, what’s the matter. Where’s Lieutenant Jeffries?”
The army chaplain lifted his head, his eyes rheumy and red-rimmed, his pupils dilated.
“What have they done to you?”
“Crushed my faith,” he said, shaking his head despondently. “Wherever we are, we are far from God’s sight.”
Edith shook her head, as if that would somehow flush out the residual effects of the insect’s spray. There was something she had been trying to remember, but it was a hollow in her mind. What the deuce was it?
Suddenly Napoo, stood below the air ventilation hole with his head cocked, urged them all into silence, his keen native senses straining to hear something. Then others heard it, too.
“This is Second Lieutenant Everson. C Company. Hello?” said a voice drifting from the vent.
“Give me a leg up,” said one of the soldiers. A couple of his companions boosted him up towards the vent. “Sounds like someone said he’s Lieutenant Everson,” he said.
“Bloody hell, man, well shout back! It could be a rescue party.”
“What?”
“Get down. Let me,” The other man was dropped unceremoniously while a Corporal was boosted up. He grasped the lip of the vent and called down.
“Are you all right?” the voice called from below.
“Yes, sir!”
“We’re on our way. Get ready to make a break for it!”
Napoo went to the door and tensed, waiting expectantly. Several men joined him.
“Captain,” said Sister Fenton sharply, addressing Grantham. “Captain, it appears your men are here to rescue us.”
“Hmm, what?” said Grantham.
“Captain,” said Sister Fenton sharply. “You do not want to let your men down. They are looking to you to lead them. Whether you feel you can or not, it is your duty.”
Grantham looked up at her as if something she said had reached him.
Some of the men, too, had got their dander up. Having heard the voice of rescue, they were up for taking a pop at the blasted Chatts. It was amazing how they rallied, Edith thought. They endured so much misery and suffering but their spirit, though dampened, was never truly extinguished and it took the merest spark to renew it. So it was she found herself swept up in their cheery confidence and for a brief, exhilarating moment she couldn’t help but believe that everything was going to be all right.
TURNING DOWN ANOTHER passage Rhengar and the scentirrii brought Jeffries to the gaol chamber. The two scentirrii on guard outside exchanged a few clicking sounds with Rhengar. One then hissed briefly at the barbed door, which opened just enough to allow Jeffries to be shoved through with a prod from his escort’s electric lance. He staggered, almost losing his footing, and narrowly avoided stumbling against Napoo who had been by the door. He shot the Urman a glance, warning him off. It was hardly the triumphant entrance he’d intended. He noticed the men were up on their feet as he entered.
“Glad to have you back, sir,” said one private.
“Don’t worry you fellows. Help is on the way, apparently,” said Jeffries. He looked down at the Padre with disdain. The Chaplain glanced up but quickly averted his gaze. Next, he spotted Captain Grantham. Hell’s teeth, but he wouldn’t be sorry to see the back of this sorry-looking shower.
“We heard them,” said a Lance Corporal with a bandaged head. “It’s Lieutenant Everson, sir. He’ll see us right.”
Everson. Bloody boy scout. Still, a plan was forming. He could use the escape as a diversion to return to Chandar’s artefact chamber and collect the map.
THAT VOICE. NOW Edith remembered. The recollection washed over her like a wave. The blood drained from her face and the room began to spin. She clutched at Abbott’s shoulder.
“What’s up, Edi? What is it? Are you all right?”
“That voice,” she said weakly. “I know where I’ve heard it before. It’s him!”
“Who, Lieutenant Jeffries?”
“No, not Jeffries. That’s not his name at all.”
“Edi, come on love. Of course it is. It’s the effects of the insect drug. You’re imagining things. We’ve been though a right old time. I’m sure you’re mistaken.”