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"This fellow's clothes should fit me, Crest declared, stepping over to the
prone form of the smaller guard.
Tordun looked at the larger of the two men.  He is well-built, but a little
on the short side, he said.  However, I am prepared to wear anything other
than this skimpy shift."
In a trice, the two guards were stripped to their undergarments, without
ceremony. Crest and Tordun seemed to have more regard for their own modesty in
the presence of a young girl, as each slipped on the uniform trousers before
doffing his white robe.
When they were dressed, Grimm regarded the two fighters with a critical eye.
Crest's uniform was a reasonable, if spare, fit. On the other hand, Tordun's
was stretched tight over his massive frame, challenging the seams and buttons
of the clothes to the limit. The taut jacket arms left six inches of pale skin
visible at the wrists, and the trousers were no better-fitting, sufficing only
to preserve the albino's modesty in an uneasy truce between burgeoning muscle
and the strength of the garment's needlework. The effect was almost ludicrous,
but it would have to do.
"How does this work? Crest said, inspecting his firearm with a dubious eye.
It was similar to the one Tordun held, although far cruder in finish and form.
The weapon must be a more recent attempt to duplicate the smooth, shining
article in the albino's hands.
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"You saw this type of weapon used at Haven, Grimm reminded him.  The pellets
emerge from the open end of the machine, and they are activated by pressing
that lever."
Grimm saw other knobs and levers on the side of the firearm, and he hoped its
use was as simple as he had said, but he dare not risk testing the article,
for fear of attracting attention.
Tordun trussed and gagged the unconscious guards, using sheets from the beds.
The speed and efficacy of his movements implied that he had done this before
on several occasions.
Crest moved with caution to the open door and scanned the corridor.
"The coast's clear, he declared.
The desperate escape attempt was on!
* * * *
"Colonel Perfuco, reporting as ordered, Sir!"
Quelgrum thought the salute a little sloppy, but, then again, the mage was
only a relative newcomer to army ways.
"What's going on between you and Armitage, Perfuco? he demanded.
"I am sure I do not know what you mean, Sir, the Mentalist replied,
swivelling his eyes from side to side and raising and lowering his eyebrows in
a rapid sequence. Quelgrum guessed that this was intended as some kind of
signal, but its significance escaped him.
The door opened, and Armitage entered the office, clutching a wad of paper to
his chest.
"Ah, Armitage, thank you for gracing us with your presence atlast,  the
General said, his tone acidic.
"I'm sorry, General, the scientist replied.  I was very busy."
Quelgrum's anger and frustration seemed to wash over and through him in a hot
flood. He sighed, rubbing his aching brow with a weary gesture.
"Gentlemen; let me make it as plain as I can.What in HELL'S NAME is going on
around here ? he screamed, at the end of his tether.  If it's some sort of
game, then I'd be ever so grateful if you'd be kind enough to let me in on the
damn rules!"
"I'm sorry, General; Ireally do not know what you mean, Perfuco said,
repeating his bizarre facial ritual with even more urgency.
"Everything's just fine, Armitage said, smiling like some sort of imbecile.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Quelgrum hissed, clasping his forehead.  Just..."
He was interrupted by a beep from the intercom, which flashed red, indicating
urgency. The General stabbed his thumb down on the relevant button as if he
was trying to push it through the table.
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"Yes?"
"Lieutenant Harman here, Sir! There's some sort of disturbance in Corridor
D-6, and gunfire is being exchanged. I've got garbled reports of men down, and
we have a fire alert in the corridor."
"We'll be right there, Lieutenant, the General snapped, almost glad that
there was something concrete on which he could fasten his attention.  Perfuco,
Armitage, this can wait."
Quelgrum took a holstered pistol from a desk drawer. After checking that the
weapon was loaded, he strapped it on.
"Sound General Quarters, Lieutenant! he barked into the intercom.  Call out
the guard!
"Come with me, gentlemen, the old soldier said, smiling.  We seem to be at
war."
War was something Quelgrum knew only too well, and he almost felt relieved.
* * * *
Grimm loosed another withering burst of green fire down the corridor, and he
heard Xylox, at the rear of the group, scream another incantation in his own
spell-language. Cries of agony and dismay rang out before being snuffed out in
an instant.
Occasional bangs came from Crest's firearm, felling soldiers twenty feet away
and more. Although Tordun's own machine did not appear to function, he hurled
shattered lumps of masonry at his foes with deadly accuracy and force.
There seemed no end to the stream of soldiers pouring into the passageway,
and Grimm felt his confidence beginning to ebb.
He still had some power left in reserve, but he was expending it at a
prodigious rate. The group had the advantage of being able to counter assaults
from either end of each corridor, but it seemed that the restrictive warren of
tunnels acted against them. Only a few men opposed then at each juncture,
requiring the expenditure of more energy for each small group of attackers.
At each new branch in the route, more soldiers appeared, ready to spit
Technological death at the adventurers. Grimm had a fresh spell ready on his
lips at each juncture, but he knew each assault was costing him too much.
I may have bitten off a little more than I can chew here...
Another corridor, a few steps closer to Quelgrum's chamber. Another volley of
fire, barely countered. The end could not be far.
As Grimm readied himself for what might prove the last assault, a familiar,
deep, commanding voice surged into the void.
"Cease fire! Cease fire, you men!" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]