The Marriage of the Living Dark

He narrowed his eyes. If he could nudge them slightly east

“Let them get in deep,” he said, conscious of how his own team were watching him. “Hold back until they hit the high ground, then push them towards Breisgau.”

The air was filled with an angry buzzing sound. Daniel turned, seeing at once a great swarm of hornet-like creatures with long glass bodies approaching from the direction of the Square below.

“Shit!” Daniel said, recognising the creatures. They were small but those long glass bodies were full of burning acid that could rot a suit in seconds. If only one or two got through the results could be disastrous. But the rest of the team were already distracted, fighting off a nest of beetles that were threatening to overwhelm them.

Snapping a grenade from his belt, Daniel tossed it up onto the root where the beetles were coming from, even as Aidan did the same. The twin explosions threw dozens of the fist-sized mechanoids into the air and blew a hole in the tiled roof. But still they came, hundreds and hundreds of the black, scuttering things.

Daniel turned back. The others would have to cope now; the hornets were almost on them.

“Clench your teeth, Daniel,” Aidan said, unclipping a big shovel-mouthed gun from his back and taking off the safety.

Daniel did as he was told. A moment later he felt the huge concussion in the air as the stun shell went off in the midst of the swarm, dropping instinctively as the wave of sharp glass shards swept over him.

There was laughter in his helmet - Aidan’s laughter.

“Hey, Daniel!” he shouted. “Do you think someone’s got it in for us?”

Dublanc slumped back in the chair, letting the tension ease from him. It was his job to distance himself from his charges, to test them as one might test machines, but sometimes - just sometimes - one found oneself getting involved. Linked somehow.

It didn’t happen often, but when it did he found himself, as now, pushing harder to compensate, as if to prove to himself that he didn’t really care. He stood, pacing the gallery slowly, considering what he should do next It was within his power to crush them - to make good and certain that they didn’t stand a chance - but what was the point of that?

Unseen, he made a face into the darkness. Some days he wondered what the point was anyway? He selected these boys and trained them, and then ... nothing. Those that came out alive were sent back to the camps, where they’d be trained yet more before being sent back here. Until, finally, they did not emerge from Eden. There was a point. Of course there was. He’d been assured by Horacek many a time that DeVore had a good reason for all of this, even if that reason was not spelled out, but some days Dublanc”s faith in the Man wavered. One did not train one’s shock troops only to expend them in these endless exercises. So what did DeVore want? The perfect killer? A machine to outgun the machines? Or was he just a sadist?.

That answer did not satisfy. If DeVore was a sadist, why did he not ask for copies of the tapes? Why did he express no interest whatsoever in the fate of his charges?

Or was that true? Horacek, for certain, had expressed an interest in Daniel. And Horacek had the Man’s ear.

Dublanc sat once more, looking across at the bank of screens, watching as the team regrouped.

The trouble was, it was hard to know precisely what DeVore did want On the three occasions on which he’d actually met the man, he’d had the distinct feeling that - all reassurances to the contrary - DeVore didn’t give a fuck what he did, nor how he went about it And yet...

Dublanc paused, coming, as he always did in this internal debate, to the nub of it.

And yet he’s given over att of this time and effort to creating the camps and running them. And to building Eden, and the mechanoids, and... He huffed irritably. There had to be a reason for it It made no sense unless there was a reason. But even he, who was in charge of it all, could not say what that reason was.

“The Man has a plan,” Horacek had said to him once, grinning that horrible feral grin of his, “and it is not our place to question it. We do as he asks when and where he asks it and no more. You understand?”

At times like this Dublanc wished he did understand. He sighed. Maybe Daniel understood. If anyone had an inkling of what was going on, it was the boy. Those eyes of his were so knowing, so full of seeing and understanding.

None of the other boys had that

“Commandant?”

He went to the rail and looked down onto the floor of the operations room. His Duty Captain stood there, at attention, looking up at him. “Yes, Captain York?”

“Do you want us to take any special measures, sir?” “Not yet,” he answered. “Besides, if they keep on in the direction they’re heading, I think they’re going to be busy enough, don’t you?” “Sir.”

York turned back, facing his operatives once more, moving quietly from desk to desk, giving orders, while on the gallery above Dublanc paced slowly in the half dark, his gloved hands clasped together behind his back.

They faced a field of pods. Row after row of small, rounded pods. Or what looked like pods. Aidan stood there just in front of Daniel, the biggest of his guns clutched to his chest, staring out across the field warily, waiting for his scouts to return.

Slaven was on his feet now. He stood to Daniel’s left, groggy but unwilling to be carried any further.

The town was behind them. Ahead, beyond the field, lay a low range of hills. To their left was a ravine, to their right a long slope covered in thick bracken through which a single path zig-zagged.

“What are they?” Johann asked, stepping up beside Aidan.

“I don’t know,” Aidan answered. “I’ve never seen them before.” Daniel lifted his gun and picked off an approaching hoverfly. “If s a minefield.”

“You know that?” Aidan asked, glancing at him.

“No. But what else could it be?”

“Don’t you think if s strange?”

“Strange?” Daniel laughed. Everything here was strange. “No... that we’ve never seen this kind of thing before. If s different this time. Can’t you feel it?”

Daniel looked about him, taking in the vista, then shrugged. It was different. He could feel the difference. But he wasn’t going to admit it openly for the watching bugs.

“Here’s Ju Dun,” he said, nodding towards the path through the bracken. Ju Dun was running at a squat, weaving from side to side and keeping himself very low, as if at any moment he would throw himself flat Behind him, pursuing him, scuttled two large metallic machines - bombardier beetles. “Guests,” Aidan said, turning towards Ju Dun and lifting his gun. But even as he went to fire there were two sharp detonations and both mechanoids fell, large holes shot clean through their carapaces.

Johann smiled and lowered his gun, even as Ju Dun clambered up alongside them. “There’s no way through,” Ju Dun said breathlessly. ‘There’s a formation of defensive machines - mortar-flies and bombardiers - three, maybe four hundred of them blocking the pass.”

Aidan nodded, then turned, his eyes scanning the ravine to his left There was still no sign of Leon.

“I’ll give him two more minutes then we’ll press on.” Daniel smiled inwardly, knowing Aidan would as soon leave one of his team as shoot off his own balls. But Aidan was impatient and, faced with something he hadn’t encountered before, a little edgy.

“Here he is now,” Slaven said, his voice pained. “Looks like he’s got company too.”

Leon was now in sight, some two or three hundred metres away, running at full tilt, two large hoverflies - their wingspan two metres or more - idly shadowing him. Even as they watched, one of them swooped and dropped something that looked like a tiny duster of eggs. Leon, sensing the creature’s proximity, turned and loosed off a round that ripped the hoverfly’s wing and brought it down, yet even as it toppled to the earth, the cluster of tiny explosives went off, throwing Leon off his feet “Get down there, nowl” Aidan said, gesturing to Johann and Christian, then, taking sight, he took a shot at the second hoverfly. The shell went off some three or four metres from the swooping machine, even as it went in for the kill, fragments of the exploding casing peppering its wing. It juddered in the air, distracted by the explosion, but it was not seriously damaged. It lifted, gaining a little altitude, preparing for a second swoop. Leon was still down, stunned. Daniel saw him turn onto his back and look up as the shadow of the creature fell on him.

And then the thing exploded like a firework going off.

“Nice shooting, Daniel.”

Daniel lowered his rifle. “I was lucky,” he said. But he knew he wasn’t As Leon rejoined them, Aidan quickly questioned him, then gestured straight ahead. They would have to go through it seemed. The ravine, like the pass, was heavily defended.

“Just don’t touch anything,” he said. “And move slowly. And keep moving. Right?”

“Righfi”

Dublanc watched as the team slowly walked down through the waist-length grass of the slope and stepped out into the field.

Briefly the watching eye focused on Daniel.

“He can shoot, that one!” one of the operators said. There was a murmur of agreement.

“Yes,” Dublanc said, acknowledging the comment. It had been impressive. Two hundred and eighteen metres, and Daniel had shot the swooping hoverfly straight through its compound eye. Another few seconds and the boy who was down would have been a steaming rack of bones.

“Let them get in deep,” he said. “Let them almost think they’re through.” Yes. Because it was time to put the pressure on. Time to start pruning them back. Because - reason or no reason - that was why they were here. To be pruned. To see just who among them was good enough - or lucky enough - to survive.

The pod was roughly fifty centimetres tall and curved at the edges, like a fat, fleshy cylinder that had been rounded top and bottom. It was blueish-white in colour, and across its mouth was stretched a tight, milkily-opaque membrane, beneath which something small and dark moved from time to time. Daniel knew what it was. An egg. They were walking through a field of eggs. The eggs of insectoid machines.

The boys were spread out across the field in a straggling line, about five metres apart, Leon on the far left, Johann on the right Slaven was with Aidan. Aidan had wanted to carry him across the field, but Slaven had refused.

Nonetheless, Aidan kept close, knowing how close to exhaustion Slaven now was. Daniel glanced across, knowing they would have to make a decision, and soon. But right now, getting across the field was paramount They were more than halfway across. Another two minutes and they would be clear of it But that wasn’t how things worked here.

Daniel scanned the sky. It was still clear. Nothing had come near them for the best part of six minutes.

He looked along the line. Leon was walking circles, turning slowly as he walked to make sure nothing crept up on him. Beside him, Ju Dun plodded forward slowly, his gun lowered, the barrel covering each pod as he passed it Benoit, nearest to him on his left, was doing the same, occasionally glancing up to check the sky. Daniel stopped dead, listening. There had been a noise. A hiss, like air escaping, and a glopping sound.

A hiss. Another hiss.

All about him the pods were opening. From two or three of them tiny black feelers now extended.

He looked to Aidan.

“Move!” Aidan said, trying not to panic them. “Come on!” All eight of them began to run, dodging between the pods. There was gunfire now as one or other of the boys let loose a round or two at the emerging “chicks”: dark cockroach-like things, with short, transparent wings and long heads tapering into needle-fine beaks of steel.

There was a shout. A cry of fear.

Daniel turned. Slaven was down. He had slipped and fallen between two of the pods. But even as he began to pull himself up, something hopped from the top of a pod and settled on his back Daniel tried to shout a warning, but it was too late. He saw the sharp silver stiletto of the creature’s beak flash in the sunlight as it rose then fell.

Slaven screamed

“Run!” Aidan called again, jerking Daniel back into life. Yet even as he turned he found himself facing one of the needle-faced chicks. It eyed him with a pure machine malice, then launched itself at him.

His gun came up in time to knock the thing away. But it was quick. It leaped again.

Daniel slammed it into the ground then turned, opening up with his gun, hitting anything that moved.

After a moment he sensed rather than heard Aidan come alongside him, his gun chattering as it picked off anything Daniel missed. Slowly they backed away, Ju Dun and Christian covering their backs. A minute, two minutes passed, then silence fell.

Daniel looked about him at the tall grass in which he now stood. The field was below them. Beyond it was a small barrier of rocks. He turned, counting. Seven of them. So Slaven was gone.

He blinked.

“Who’s hurt?” Aidan said, clipping the red-hot gun to his side and taking another from his back There was a groan.

“Leon?” Aidan walked across and examined the rip at the shoulder of Leon’s suit.

“What happened?”

“If s okay,” Leon said, “if s superficial. Just a scratch.” There was the chatter of Christian’s automatic as it picked off two of the chicks that had tried to follow them. In the silence that followed, Aidan put his fingers into the rip and peered inside. He frowned, then pushed Leon away gently.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “We’ll find shelter, then you can bandage that and repair your suit, right?”

“Right,” Leon said, relief in his voice.

Aidan winked at him then turned, looking to Daniel. Eggs, he mouthed, a sour look on his face.

Daniel looked past him at Leon; saw how the boy was smiling, pleased that he’d survived not just one close shave but two, and felt sick to his stomach. Leon hadn’t survived. He only thought he had. Leon had just been injected by one of the creatures with a stream of nano-eggs: tiny pre-programmed machines, from which a host of new mechanoids would fashion themselves, feeding upon their host, converting his body tissue into matter they could use. Daniel shivered and looked away. Leon had just become a walking pod.

At the head of the valley was a ruined chapel, built into the rock of the hillside. It was a good place to stop, if only because the floor and walls were made of solid rock and the chances of anything burrowing up under you were small. They rested there now, Aidan and Johann mounting the watch while the others grabbed what sleep they could.

Unable to sleep, Daniel stood on the ledge beside the shattered window at the top of the chapel, his gloved hand resting loosely on the crumbling brickwork as he looked out over the terrain they had traversed. The distant wall formed a black frame about a landscape that looked as peaceful as a picture from an ancient book, but there was not a square metre that was completely safe. Seven hours they had been inside and they were still less than five kilometres from the Entry Gate.

He let out a long breath. This time was different from the rest, not just in its detail, its fine patterning, but in its general fed. On every other visit, Eden had been filled with an impersonal menace, but this time that menace seemed directed.

Just above him the tiny midge-like bug watched him, an unblinking eye that never left his side. Daniel stared at it, wondering just who was watching him at that moment.

Until today he had assumed that the bugs were there simply to observe; to make a visual record of their passage, but what if they were used for another purpose? Daniel turned, looking back into the shadowed interior of the chapel. The four who were resting lay some three or four metres below the ledge on which he stood, slumped against the right-hand wall, their backs against the solid rock, their visors raised. Looking at their sleeping faces, Daniel felt a genuine fondness for them. They had accounted for themselves well so far. Ju Dun, particularly, had impressed him. The lad had handled himself like a veteran. Nothing had fazed him.

Christian lay to his right, his long body turned slightly on his side, one hand resting on his chest as he slept. Towards the end, in the field particularly, Christian’s natural good humour had begun to slip. But that was hardly surprising. If Eden was a joke, then it was a bleak one. Benoit, to his right, had shown surprising spirit In training, Daniel had wondered about his temperament but he needn’t have worried. Benoifs determinatioato protect his fellows was quite remarkable and that, as much as any other quality, was what got teams through. When you knew someone would cover your back when things got bad, then things could be borne. Just And such spirit bred in a team, just as its opposite, despair, could take root and rot a team’s spirit from within.

Leon stirred in his sleep, then reached up to scratch his shoulder. Daniel studied Leon, knowing that they would have to do something about him before long. He had six hours at most, and in the last of those he would be in torment. But six hours was better than nothing, and the team could use that time. It would give them all a better chance.

It’s hard, Daniel thought, knowing that in some more decent world he might have told Leon what was happening and let him make the choice. But they needed Leon. As long as Leon could walk and fire a gun he was useful to them. So it was essential - for the team - that he didn’t know. There was gunfire, then laughter. Johann’s laughter.

“Six-four,” Aidan said, keeping the score between them. Daniel climbed down then went out the front, joining them on the narrow parapet that overlooked the valley.

“If s quiet,” Daniel said, taking up position between them. Aidan was facing forward, his eyes watching the valley, while Johann scanned the rock above the chapel, making sure nothing came over the top and dropped on them. “Can’t you sleep?” Aidan asked.

“No,” Daniel answered, his eyes scanning the valley for any sign of movement. Aidan considered a moment, then: “Johann, go and join the others. Daniel will take your watch.”

Johann did not argue. He disappeared inside.

Aidan looked back at Daniel. “You feel it too?” Daniel turned, placing his back against the parapet, then nodded. Above the two the tiny camera-probes hovered, sending back their images to the Core. After a moment, Daniel smiled.

“Maybe we should talk to them,” he said.

“The Watchers?”

“Yes. Tell them what it feels like. Maybe they’d be interested.”

Aidan considered that “Maybe.”

A bug fluttered up above the ridge. Daniel shot it before it could settle. “Then again,” Daniel went on, his eyes briefly checking the charge on his gun, “maybe that would only help them. You know, stack the odds against us.” “I’d say the odds were pretty high as it was.”

“Exactly.” Again Daniel’s gun went off. Another bug exploded in mid-air.

“Two-nothing,” Aidan said, keeping the score.

There was silence for a while, punctuated by gunfire and the habitual keeping of the score. Then Aidan spoke again.

“What do you think he wants?”

“Wants?”

“The Man. Why do you think he keeps sending us through?” Daniel watched the ridge above the chapel, conscious of the shape of the clouds, the colour of the sky and the sharp, jagged outline of the rock. The stock answer was that DeVore was testing them, preparing them for some future task, but he had begun to suspect there was another possibility. But what Daniel said was, “I don’t know. I thought I did, but I don’t any more.” Aidan was quiet then. “Leon ...”

“I know.”

“When?”

Daniel shrugged. His instinct was to leave it until the last moment. “Lef s see, huh?”

“Okay.”

And that was it No ethical debate. No weighing of the moral arguments. Just a simple decision to deal with it .

Aidan’s gun chattered -pock-pock-pock - as he picked off a bug that had come too close. In the silence that followed, there was a groan. Daniel lowered his gaze, looking through the open doorway at the sleeping boys. Leon stirred, then groaned again, scratching at the swelling behind his right shoulder blade. Malice. It all came down to simple malice.

Looking up, Daniel saw the bright glint of insectile eyes staring at him from above the ridge. He smiled then blew it into a million tiny pieces.

Aidan gave them another hour, then woke them. They had three hours of daylight. If they were lucky they could get to the circle in that time. If they were lucky.

But the younger boys were rested now, which was good. Because there would be little chance for sleep when the sun went down. Then things would really hot up. Ahead of them, just the other side of the ridge, was thick woodland - three, almost four, kilometres of it There, they would be open to attack from all sides - including the ground beneath their feet If they survived that, then they faced an even more difficult barrier, the river.

At present the river was off to the south of them, but about three kilometres upstream it changed course and turned back upon itself. Where they planned to emerge from the woods there had once been a bridge, with a tiny hamlet just beyond, but these days the bridge was down, and the river there was an icy torrent, rushing between two steep walls of rock. On the far side of the river was a tap. And they would need to use that tap. If they could get across.

Daniel looked about him, seeing how the boys were psyching themselves up for the next stage of their venture. It would have been best, perhaps, if they hadn’t stopped but had pressed on. That way they wouldn’t have had to face things cold again. But then they would have had to face the problem of exhaustion sooner rather than later. Of nerves frayed to the limit and bodies that no longer responded as they should because they were just too tired. Aidan always rested his team as soon as he could afford to. It was one of the reasons why his teams got through and others didn’t But it was not only that. Today things weren’t going to plan. Someone was pushing them - forcing them to take paths they wouldn’t normally take.

Daniel turned suddenly. He had noticed something but wasn’t sure quite what it was. Something peripheral.

Nothing had changed. The ruin was still precisely as it had been a moment before. But.

Aidan had stopped talking and was watching Daniel. The rest of them fell quiet. Aidan gestured, giving a subtle hand signal only they could read. Get back, it said.

Daniel stooped, as if he were flicking something from his boot, then straightened, throwing a handful of dust at the door. As the cloud of dust struck it, the door exploded into life, the whole frame loosing itself from the surrounding brickwork and hurling itself at Daniel, its long claws flicking up to reach for him. But Daniel was already diving to one side as Aidan blasted the thing, blowing great chunks of it away. As the dust settled, Daniel pulled himself up, shrugging off fragments of the mimic.

“Shit!” Johann said, and beside him Christian laughed nervously. They all knew about mimics - machines that looked like common objects but waited patiently, like living mines, to claim a victim - but none of the younger boys had ever seen one. Now, Daniel knew, they would find it hard to trust the appearance of anything.

Aidan was staring at it thoughtfully. After a moment he looked up at Daniel.

“Why didn’t it attack earlier?”

“I don’t know.”

But Daniel did know. It had been triggered, and not just by the handful of dust he had thrown at it Whoever lay behind this had been after him. Had wanted to take him out -specifically him. And had wanted to do it when all the team were there to witness it.

He looked up at the tiny probe that hovered at the level of his eyes.

Why now? he wondered. Are you tired of watching me?

Or was he simply being paranoid?

That last thought brought a smile to his lips. Aidan saw it and frowned. Don’t crack up on me, his eyes said.

“I won’t,” he answered out loud, wondering what they’d make of those two words. “Then lef s go,” Aidan said. “And remember ... call any earth-movements. There are burrowers out there.”

“Leon ... Leonl Sit down!”

Leon turned, glaring at Aidan, then, seeing from Aidan’s face that he would brook no further argument, did as he was told. Even so, he sat there hunched forward, picking at the floor with his gloved fingers, unable to rest, his eyes twitching here and there as if he suspected the stones themselves to transform into sudden enemies.

Delirium, Daniel thought, studying him a moment, noting how the swelling behind his right shoulder had grown this past hour.

They were crouched on the rocks above the fall, the roar of the water filling the air all around them. Half a kilometre behind them was the bridge and beyond it the tap. But there had been a host of machines at the tap - many more than were usually there - and to attempt to cross there would have been foolhardy, even if they hadn’t already lost Benoit in the woods. Aidan had decided to press on along the bank and cross further up, then double back, coming upon the tap from higher ground.

But it was as difficult to cross the river here as it had been back by the tap. More so, if anything, for the current seemed twice as strong and the sides of the ravine through which it passed twice as steep. And then there was the problem of Leon.

Leon stood once more, looking about him. A low growl escaped him. “Leon?” Daniel kept all anxiety from his voice. It was important now to keep calm. To act as if things were perfectly normal. Leon twitched round, looking at Daniel, his gun pointed straight at Daniel’s chest Stepping up to him, Daniel pushed the weapon’s muzzle aside. “If s okay, Leon. It’s okay.”

Leon seemed to shiver. Then, with a small, self-conscious nod, he squatted down again, his weapon balanced across his knees. But his eyes still flicked from side to side nervously, a deep anxiety in every line of his face. From the look of it there were poisons in his bloodstream.

Daniel stepped behind him and bent forward, looking at the swelling. As far as he could see, it now stretched right down his back. Through a crack in the armour Daniel could see how dark the flesh was, almost purple-black in colour, and as he looked he saw something within that darkness move, something small and mechanical, one tiny, fork-like limb snowing its outline briefly as it pressed up against the outer skin.

Aidan, standing at the lip of the fall, had seen nothing. He was staring out across the mist-filled gulf, his head turning now and then to consider possibilities.

There was another tap, three kilometres to the west, but they would never make that. They had to recharge, and soon.

As it was they were low on shells and grenades, and the Exit Gate was still more than fifteen kilometres to the north.

Aidan turned, looking to him, then spoke into his helmet “We need a rope.”

“True. But we haven’t got a rope.”

“So how do we get across?”

“We blow it”

“What?” Aidan came across. “Blow it?”

“Sure. We can’t wade it, and we can’t jump it and we haven’t got a rope. But we could block it Temporarily, that is.”

“You mean, blow a chunk out of the bank?”

Daniel nodded. “And as the dust settles we quickly skip across. Before the water builds up again.”

“You think it’ll work?”

“I haven’t a clue. But nothing else is going to, is it?”