COUNTERPOINT
CHAPTER 1: THE SOLDIER
PART 8
By Mya Thevendra
Descending deeper into the tunnel, the marines were quickly shrouded in thick, black shadow. The passage sloped gently downwards and was round in shape, the ceiling lying mere inches above the marines' heads; ahead of them, their probing torchlights disappeared into the gloom. Tinted goggles ordinarily would have made matters worse, but the type that the marines wore were designed to only lessen the effect of strong light sources; in low light conditions such as this, they had a negligible effect.
It became cooler as they crept further along, and the air became thick and stale. Stopping for a moment, Ian turned around and looked back towards the two squads behind. The marines lowered their torches to avoid shining them in his face. Ian looked back past the Spider Monkeys towards the tunnel entrance; through the cramped passageway, little light from the entrance could be seen past the frames of the marines.
"Who's got the P.F.M.'s?" asked Ian, squinting in the darkness.
Two silhouettes shouted out their names.
"Private Wilson, sir!"
"Private Coombes, sir!"
"Get them out," said Ian. "Start with a chemical scan of this air, it seems a little off."
The two marines retrieved their P.F.M.'s from their packs, and after taking a moment to calibrate them, began to brandish them in the air, passing them slowly from side to side.
"Wilson, report." Said Ian.
"It doesn't look too bad, sir. Nitrogen concentration down here's a little higher than normal, some hydrogen chloride as well; nowhere near toxic levels sir, but the concentrations could rise as we go further in."
Ian peered further back.
"Coombes?"
"I concur, sir. I recommend we use respirators."
"All right, everyone put them on." Ian pulled his microphone.
"This is Commander Latimer to all marines. Use your respirator masks once inside; the air's most likely a few thousand years old. Let's not take any chances."
Commander Murello, and Sergeants Sheppard and Davies each acknowledged for their squads in turn. In a few seconds, the marines of Ian's group had quickly checked over their respirator masks, and fixed them in place. The whispering sound of contained breathing filtered through the tunnel.
"Wilson, get in front and start your scan."
Private Wilson worked his way to the front, and extended the thin barrel of the P.F.M. into the air, his rifle gripped in his other hand. The detector emitted a low hum interspersed with faint ticks as it sent out sensor pulses into the shadows ahead.
"Nothing yet, sir." Said Wilson.
Ian nodded onwards.
"Let's carry on."
The marines started off once again, the sound of hoarse breathing and cautious footsteps echoing softly off the tunnel walls as they moved. Behind and above them, the shimmering gap through which they entered gradually shrank, and as the tunnel curved, it disappeared from view. A muffled, heavy blackness surrounded them. Ian spoke into his microphone once again.
"TacCon from Latimer."
There was no reply.
"TacCon from Latimer." repeated Ian.
A soft buzz of static stirred his earpiece, and then O'Hanlan's voice struggled through.
"Go ahead, Commander."
"What's going on, Corporal?" asked Ian.
"Sir, there's some interference blocking the headset radios."
"Yes, I can hear that Corporal, what's causing it?"
"Sensor scans show large quantities of mineral deposits in the cavern structure, sir; nothing to do with the resource objective, some kind of ionic compound. It's interfering with radio transmissions, and base sensors can't penetrate further than thirty feet through it. The signals from your headsets, as well as the booster packs that you're carrying are giving the sensors something to lock onto, but we can't see much of anything else. The best we can give you is an area of about forty square feet directly around you."
Ian shook his head in the darkness, confident that no one would see him.
"What about the tunnel layout? How much can you see?"
"Not very much at all, sir. There's just too much interference on the scope. We can just about see one large region of open space; it's about three hundred metres east-northeast of your position."
"That'll do. Latimer out."
As he followed on behind Private Wilson, Ian thought back to the intelligence reports he had read through only two days before. The tunnel network that they were walking through had been formed at least five thousand years ago, back when more than four fifths of the planet's surface had been covered by water. Confederate Geo-analysts had speculated that the tunnels had been the work of some prehistoric burrowing sea creature, possibly some giant variety of eel or sea snake. It was likely that these creatures, if they existed at all, had dug these tunnels out to form lairs in which to rest and breed. They may also have been able to acquire nutrients in some form from the mineral deposits in the earth around them.
Continuing on, the air became cooler still, and without looking back, Ian called out.
"Private Coombes."
"Yes, sir." Came the reply from behind.
"Perform another chemical scan."
After a few moments, the young marine called out the results.
"Sir, the nitrogen levels have risen, and there are some other gaseous compounds present as well. I'd say respirators are essential from here on, sir."
"Right, everyone keep moving, and make sure those masks are secure."
The passageway veered to the right, and sloped downwards even further, to the point where the marines had to brace themselves against the wall with their arms as they walked. Ian checked his pocket compass. A button press lit up its face, and it confirmed that they were now heading roughly east-northeast. The tunnel continued downwards, and after a minute or so, something caught Ian's eye. Halting the group, he moved past Private Wilson, and shone his torch beam along the wall on the left, tracing the point where the beam hit the side of the tunnel. He moved the light further and further ahead, until suddenly, the light disappeared; there was no wall. Stepping slowly forward, and gripping the side with his hand, Ian came to the edge of the passage, and he stood, peering out into the blackness, searching with his torchlight to find any sign of the cavern wall. Above, he could just make out a portion of the ceiling, perhaps twenty feet above the level of the tunnel. Below, however, the light from his torch found nothing save a thick blanket of darkness.
Reaching down into his belt, Ian pulled out a flare pack. A bundle of five, thin, stick shaped manganese based flares, each was capable of illuminating everything within about thirty feet. As Ian ripped off their igniter tags, the flares lit up at one end with a loud rasping sound. He then scattered them around into the darkness in front, and waited. After a few seconds, far below, the flares hissed into life, sending an explosion of reddish light into the rocky chamber. Ian stared, speechless. From behind, Private Wilson stepped up to the lip of the tunnel, and gazed downwards. His jaw dropped, and the two of them stood stunned, staring into the cavern below.
The tunnel opened out into a large chamber, maybe fifty feet from end to end; the drop down to the chamber floor was at least forty. Dozens of Ridges and ledges were arrayed throughout the cavern and along its edges, creating somewhat precarious walkways to others parts of the chamber. What had struck Ian and Private Wilson dumb, however, as well as a few other marines who had now moved forwards to investigate, were the forty odd holes and cavities scattered around the walls of the cavern. It was likely that there were more still, which hadn't been illuminated by the flares. Perhaps as many as sixty tunnels branched out from this one chamber, with any or perhaps even none of them intersecting with tunnels from the other three entry points. Ian leant against the side of the tunnel; Private Wilson turned towards him, somewhat reluctant to speak.
"It's…going to take us quite some time, sir."
"That's putting it mildly, Wilson." Replied Ian, dourly. "I suppose it's too much to hope that you've picked up any readings yet?" Said Ian, quite sure that Wilson hadn't, having paid close attention to the P.F.M. over his shoulder. Wilson swept the detector across the air in front a few times and shook his head.
"Sorry, sir. Apart from the ionic minerals in the earth, and whatever's floating in the air, I'm not getting anything."
Ian nodded slowly, and then spoke into his headset.
"TacCon from Latimer. O'Hanlan, do you read me..?"
O'Hanlan's voice crackled through the interference.
"Just about, sir."
"Corporal, we've come that open space on your scope. Can you pick it up now?"
"Yes, sir. Looks, it looks like there are at least fifty possible exits."
"That sounds about right," said Ian, "I'm going to split up my team; the more ground we cover, the better. The immediate problem is navigation, I don't want anyone getting lost in here."
"That shouldn't be too much of a problem, sir. As each team moves through the tunnels, I've been able to generate a map of the layout based on the ground they've covered. If anyone does get lost, I'll be able to guide them back the way they came."
"Good, keep your eyes open. Latimer out."
Ian turned around to face the others.
"Well, it looks as though we have a lot of ground to cover. I don't anticipate that we're going to get the job done on the first day, perhaps not even the first few days if there are more caverns like this one, but we have to slog on. We'll split the two squads here and go on separately. Corporal Young…"
"Yes, sir"
"You're back in charge of squad two," said Ian, "I'll keep hold of squad one. Remember to keep checking in with TacCon, they'll make sure you don't get lost. Report everything that you find, and stay alert, understand? All right, watch your step."
Directly to the side of where the tunnel opened out, a narrow ledge ran right and down into the cavern, where it widened out and connected with embankments and ridges from elsewhere in the chamber. Easing his way out onto the ledge, Ian carefully led the two squads down onto the walkways. Reaching somewhere near the centre of the chamber, Ian stopped, and searched around with his torchlight.
"It seems as though one way's as good as another. Squad two," Said Ian, motioning into the darkness, "pick a tunnel and get moving. We rendezvous back at the surface at 1800." and with that, Ian led his squad further down and then cut left towards the cavern wall. Presented with half a dozen possible routes, he picked one at random, and, with his squad close behind, he ventured inside.
The rest of the Spider Monkeys led by Sergeant Sheppard, and the Jackknifes with Murello and Davies had met with similar levels of success. All of the squads had encountered hollowed chambers of varying sizes dispersed throughout the tunnel network, from where dozens more passages sprang out in every direction. Throughout the day, progress was made painstakingly slowly, as ground was covered and mapped out, and tunnels which came to a dead end were found and eliminated from the search. By 1730 hours, none of the squads had detected any sign of the resource objective. After checking in, each team backtracked, and made its way back up to the surface. As Ian's group made their way back up the long tunnel to the opening, clearly drained after more than seven hours of searching relentlessly in the dark, Ian received a transmission in his headset.
"Commander Latimer from TacCon, do you copy?"
The radio interference was lighter as they approached the surface, and Corporal O'Hanlan's voice came through with little hindrance.
"Go ahead Corporal." Replied Ian.
"Sir, you've got a little weather heading your way from the west; it's nothing serious, but Meteorology spotted some wind currents approaching you, and a low pressure front about thirty miles away, which could be on its way in. you'd be advised to make best time possible back to base, sir."
"Understood, Corporal. Latimer out."
Spending nearly one quarter of the day underground had acclimatised the marines' eyes to low light levels, and walking back out into the light of the Widow sun was no pleasant experience. They were spared its full effect however, as it had now fallen below the upper edge of the pit, most of which was now cast in a muddy shadow. As the marines stepped back out onto the pit's floor, and removed their respirators, Ian walked forward, and looked around through squinting eyes. On the north side of the pit, Commander Murello was heading over with his two squads, and Sgt. Sheppard could be seen emerging from the other opening with the third squad of Spider Monkeys. After a minute or so, the last squad of Jackknifes lead by Sgt. Davies walked out of the last hole, blinking and shielding their eyes. Murello walked up, slightly out of breath, and his collar stained with sweat.
"Well, that was fun."
Ian gave a tired nod.
"It's a start."
He looked over towards the assembled marines.
"TacCon's spotted some inbound weather. Let's get moving now, I'll take your reports en route," he said, glancing at Sgts. Sheppard and Davies.
The marines made a last, quick check of their gear, and then made for the edge of the pit. After Hauling himself up, Ian looked westward. Already, there was a thin, veil of brown laid low in the sky some five miles away, slowly creeping closer as sand was whipped up and driven over the scorched ground towards them. The centre of the sandy cloud burned orange as the setting sun behind continued its journey downward towards the horizon. Without further pause, Ian led the marines back towards the rocky plateau where Gleason and Pryce were waiting, and after meeting up, the scouting party began the long trek back to Fort Sunderland.
The walk back was slow, and lagged terribly. Every member of the party had covered at least ten kilometres in the time that they were underground, with little or no rest, and the entire group was now nearing exhaustion. The evening heat was less intense, much to the marines appreciation, and their shadows were long and hazy. As they walked, Ian took reports from each of the squads, and checked back with Corporal O'Hanlan at the T.C.U. From the day's efforts, nearly eighty kilometres of tunnel ground had been covered, and mapped out on the TacCon's mainframe. However, what little the base's sensors could see of the rest of the caverns indicated that this could only be as little as five percent of the total area present. It would take weeks to fully explore the caverns, but with the resources being potentially located at any point inside them, they could be discovered in a matter of days. Ian hoped that they would get lucky soon, but prepared himself for the possibility that it would take far longer.
Approaching the base, they were overtaken by the sand cloud. A much softer wind than the one which had greeted Ian on his arrival, it was nevertheless enough to warrant the marines putting on their respirator masks once again. It swept above them as they descended into the basin around Fort Sunderland, and had nearly passed out of sight by the time they wearily hauled themselves up the access tunnel and into the Main Barracks.
After weapons and gear had been checked in, the marines of the first scouting party retired to their quarter for grateful, hard-earned rest. A short while after, Commander Ingo Deist took the three squads of the 172nd Tommy's curse that made up the second scouting party out into the desert to continue the search. In another twelve hours, it would be the Spider Monkeys' turn once again.
After a short rest and a light meal, Ian settled into the TacCon to review the day's progress. O'Hanlan had performed well in his role as squad coordinator, and the newly generated map of the desert caverns represented a strong start. In addition, the C-19g rippers had all held up under the weather, although conditions had been good, and there had yet been no cause for any of them to be fired. Should conditions worsen, Engineer Sajan's modifications would no doubt be properly tested.
O'Hanlan alternated with a member of the tactical staff as squad coordinator, and ended his day at 2200. Ian stayed longer. After further scrutinising the terrain maps, and compiling the day's reports, he then observed the progress made by Deist's unit as they carried on where he had left off. Finally, a little after eleven o'clock, Ian left the TacCon. He slept the deep sleep of a weary man, and although his slumber was intense, and welcome, it was brief. The next day arrived all too quickly.