The Underground Dispatch: A Deadly Quest
An Entry Artifact from The Closed Tunnel
Rony Core is trapped 3,000 feet underground in a secret layer of elite cities and high-tech labs. Injured, hunted, and desperate to find a way back to the surface, he follows a clue that leads him through the Ancient Tunnel, toward a forbidden museum in Luxor Ville
Blue Whiskey
Rony
3:30 p.m.
Abandoned GeoLab
In a spacious laboratory, under a dusty chandelier, sat an old man with an oversized head and long gray hair. He lifted his heavy eyelids, looked at Rony with faded eyes, and said, “Greg? I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“I’m Ronan Core, sir. From Hearton.”
“Really? Someone was wandering through the corridors here yesterday. Wasn’t it you?”
“I saw a shadow and thought it was a ghost,” Rony mumbled.
“Nope. I am the caretaker permanently assigned here, Gabriel Galliani. The lab is still alive. It’s just that not everyone needs to know about it.”
“Seems like you know everything here, sir. If I ascend the inclined elevator shaft, will I reach the GeoLab on the surface?”
The old man grinned.
“It’s a funicular. Part of its route crosses an abyss. There are also special safety gates along the way. Don’t even think about it.”
Shit. If my way back is cut off, I need to revert to my previous plan: find Jefferson’s notes and deliver them to Lundstram.
“Mr. Galliani, do you know the former head of MedLab, Ray Jefferson?”
“He’s the greatest scientist of our time. He cured my lifelong asthma and injected some kind of blue whiskey into my veins. Now, I can sit in any airless room as if I were a diver.” Galliani covered his eyes.
This old man can fall asleep at any moment. I should push my luck.
“Sir, I’m looking for Jefferson’s notes. Have you come across anything like that?”
“If it’s what I think it is, I would recommend you drop your search.”
“Why is that?”
Galliani froze for a moment and then said, “The Witch Fire has begun.” He closed his eyes and continued, “Chasing those notes will put you in the crosshairs of an extremely dangerous person. You wouldn’t wish this enemy on your worst foe. He’s desperate to get his hands on those formulas and will stop at nothing. Does the name Dick De Monte ring a bell?”
Shit.
“No, sir, I don’t know him.” But I smell deadly trouble.
“Actually, Dick De Monte is the local moniker, meaning ‘dick from the mountain.’” Galliani chuckled. “Because that’s exactly who he is. On the Surface, he goes by a different name, one splashed across every worldwide tabloid. As for Jefferson, he tucked papers into Krambach’s book, if I recall correctly. Find that book, and may the Mistress of the Tunnels protect you.”
“But which book? Where can I find it?”
Galliani’s face turned a ghostly gray, and he seemed to fall into a deep sleep.
I guess he’s out of blue whiskey.
Daring Moped
Rony
Behind the door to the Ancient Tunnel lay a crumbling darkness. Rony’s helmet switched to night vision mode. Where is everyone? What happened?
A nurse in a MedLab suit, an electric tricycle scooter between her legs, stood with her back to him, shining a flashlight farther into the tunnel.
Rony climbed down the fire ladder and ran toward her, his footsteps echoing off the tunnel walls. The nurse turned and screamed, aiming the beam at Rony’s eyes. Marushka.
“Who are you?” she squealed.
“It’s me, remember?”
He unbuckled his helmet and pulled it off his bandaged head. Marushka lowered the flashlight, narrowed her eyes, and said, “Ah, the hero lover,” then squealed again, “Why are you scaring me like this? Everyone left me, a gentle girl, here alone. Bitches!”
Rony laughed.
“Do you think it’s funny? When that damn scribbling—”
“The Witch Fire.”
“Yes, the Witch Fire spread across the walls, my eTrike stalled, and the lights under the vault went out.”
“You could’ve just walked to the gates,” Rony replied, placing his helmet on a large white MedLab box attached to the trike.
“Walk, you say? Do you know that one of the convicts killed a nurseman, ripped off his suit, and is running around here in it? Is that funny?”
“What?”
“What you heard!”
Rony covered his mouth with the back of his hand, nearly retching at the thought that the convict murderer, wielding a wild machete, could be lurking in the dark near them.
“I heard about it at the checkpoint,” Marushka continued. “They found a naked body, throat cut, with Hearton’s biochip in his hand. So, now, someone is walking around in his clothes. And here you are, in a helmet, scaring me to death!”
“I didn’t know about that. I’m sorry.”
“Never mind, you’re not the biggest asshole here. They told me to deliver medical supplies to the transformer room, but no one was there. I used my sonar to call for help, but no one’s coming from that damn checkpoint.”
Checkpoint. Right. They’ll just scan my biochip and send me back to the MedLab. I won’t find anything that way.
“Hey, Mara,” he said, testing the waters, “what do you know about Krambach’s book?”
“Are you crazy? Why would you need it now?”
“Do you know where to find it or not?”
“I’m standing here as a woman, not as a librarian,” she retorted, slightly unzipping her tight-fitting overalls.
Rony cracked a smile. “And still?”
“It’s in the Luxor Ville Museum. Who doesn’t know that!”
“Okay. If I fix your eTrike, will you take me there?”
“Do something already! Let’s either fix it or fuck. I can’t just stand here waiting.”
As Rony began unzipping his suit, Marushka rolled her eyes. “I knew what you would choose! First Leia, now me. Are you collecting us or what?”
He pulled a screwdriver from his inside pocket and twirled it in the air. “I need a smaller tool this time.”
“But what about—”
“Tshh!” Rony pressed a finger to his lips, crouched in front of Mara, and met her gaze.
Savoring her confusion about what he might do next, he tossed the gloves to the ground and set to work, peering at her from under his lashes.
“Light, please,” he commanded.
She sighed and aimed the beam at his hands. Unscrewing the top panel, he found a burned-out starter relay and reconfigured the circuit. With a chime, the display came to life.
“Aww, you know how to work with your hands,” Marushka said, biting her lip.
“I can also increase the speed. If you want, I can take the limit off.”
“I want to.” She touched her neck. “Take it off.”
“Better later. I don’t want to rush things with you.” Rony grinned.
“Deal. The second option is still on,” she whispered, playing with the zipper of her suit.
“You’re a goddess, but there’s no time for that now.” He put on his helmet. “You promised to take me to Krambach’s book, remember?”
Marushka sighed. “If it’s really that important, let’s go.”
She unbuckled the medical kit, placed it against the wall, and slid a vibration sensor underneath it.
“Whoever needs it will take it. The guards are useless. And you—you’re the real man. You didn’t leave a girl in trouble,” she said coyly, like an old-movie actress.
Rony sat behind Marushka on the eTrike and wrapped his arms snugly around her waist. She arched gracefully and moaned.
“What a fox you are!” He laughed.
The eTrike had at least 800 watts of power. Mara kicked off without accelerating, even lifting the front wheel. The vibration of her body reached him as they sped forward.
The girls here are fire.
Gallery Tour
Rony
4:00 p.m.
Luxor Ville
The checkpoint greeted them with blinding light and the bare muzzle protruding from what looked to Rony like a 30mm autocannon.
At the intersection, next to a military vehicle, a guard in a heavy armored suit stood with his hand raised to stop them. Marushka didn’t slow down. Instead, she gave him the middle finger and yelled, “Fuck you, assholes!”
As they flew past, the muzzle of an automatic weapon followed them. Shit!
Within a minute, they burst into the magnificent canyon of Luxor Ville. There was no visible damage, although it was darker than the day before. Cafés and restaurants were open, with only a few elderly patrons sitting at tables, chatting as if nothing had happened. The e-moped descended a spiral ramp to the first level, entirely dedicated to the Luxor Ville Museum. High arches decorated with mosaic glass and tall columns were supported by two atlases that held up the vault on their powerful shoulders.
Marushka slammed on the brakes and nudged Rony with her hip. “We’ve arrived. When you’re done with your cultural program, come see us in the MedLab. I have some books, too.”
She watched him with anticipation, but Rony just winked at her and turned toward the entrance. The revolving door’s massive glass panels stood still, so he slipped through a side arch. A security guard in a tailored suit blocked his way.
“Nurseman? I don’t recall anyone getting sick here.”
“I need to take a look at one of your books.”
“None of the books got sick either,” the guard grinned, puffing out his chest. “See this emergency sign? We’re closed until the system is restored. Come back later and take that nurse with you,” he added, pointing with his chin behind Rony’s back.
Marushka came in with a cheeky expression on her face, her hips swaying and the top of her overall open in a provocative way.
“I don’t know what you were hoping for,” she said, pulling a blue cigarette wrapped in thin transparent film from her pocket and sticking it between her breasts.
The guard licked his lips. “Well, if you guys have a VIP pass, I can even give you an individual tour.”
He stepped closer to Marushka and carefully pulled a cigarette from her, his hands trembling.
“Okay, what do you want to see?”
“Krambach’s book.”
“Follow me.”
Impressed, Rony clapped to Marushka.
“You owe me,” she whispered.
He struggled to keep up with the guard, who was eager to smoke his special cigarette. As they hurried through the corridors, Rony glanced around, captivated by the art. Large medieval tapestries hung alongside the Confederate flag and Portrait of a Young Man. Each piece looked priceless.
“These are all originals from the private collections of Luxor Ville apartment owners. The gallery offers ideal storage conditions and guarantees security. By the way, we’ve arrived.” He gestured to a stand with a glass cube on top in the middle of the empty hall. “Why do you need it now? To make a wish?”
“Sort of.”
“That’s why everyone comes here. Some swear they can glimpse the future next to this book. Anyway, you’ve got fifteen minutes. I’ll be back for you,” he said, putting the cigarette in his mouth. “The glass is bulletproof and all. Just, you know, don’t touch anything.”
NASA Underground
Rony
Removing his helmet, Rony approached the imposing book, half his height, artfully angled in a glass cube. Its pages—large golden plates intricately engraved with cryptic scribbles and images—were deliberately left open, with four plates to the right and five to the left, as if frozen by the wind of time.
It’s a museum piece. No Jefferson’s notes, of course.
Distracted, Rony surveyed the room. The walls to his left and right were covered with sheets of paper shaded in black graphite, revealing the outlines of various figures and designs. Frottage. I used to do that to trace coins at school.
Below the drawings, rows of photographs showed groups with equipment next to private planes and huge ships, and helmet-wearing archaeologists touching large artifacts in underground caves.
“Is that Neil Armstrong, the astronaut?” Rony read the caption and couldn’t believe his eyes.
Then he froze, mouth agape: next to him…
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