Kristine Rusch - City of Ruins

The lieutenant comes next, followed by the captain. As he comes down the stairs, he scans the room until he sees me. Our gazes lock.

He nods.

He looks so official in his black uniform with its gold trim. None of the other uniforms have as much gold trim, so his must show his rank somehow. His shoulders are square, his jaw set. He looks like a captain of legend, which, I suppose, he is.

I’m doing nothing to hide my qualms. I’m staring at all of those soldiers with complete dismay. Men, women, all of them staring straight ahead, all of them in some form of position, awaiting command.

I hate this.

He stops in front of me and bows a little. He speaks slowly, but I still don’t understand what he’s saying.

The lieutenant reaches his side, but before she can translate, Al-Nasir says, “He’s apologizing for inconveniencing us. He hopes that nothing will go wrong, and he’ll do everything in his power to make sure we’re all safe.”

“I’m sure the soldiers will guarantee that,” I mutter.

To my horror, the lieutenant translates my words.

The captain’s mouth thins, but he’s clearly not angry. “It’s a first-contact team,” he says through the lieutenant. “We bring a team like this whenever we’re faced with people we’ve never interacted with before.”

“And you come with them?” I ask. “Really? That’s not wise.”

“That’s not procedure,” he says. “But I have to see… .”

Her translation misses his wistful tone. He’s worried that I’m right. I wonder what he’ll do when he figures out that I am.

“Let’s go, then,” I say, and I lead. If I have to march with a group of soldiers, I’m not going to hide behind them.

“Please,” the lieutenant says, “stay in the center with us.”

“No,” I say, and walk to the door. I pull it open and step into the corridor. It looks normal to me. I’ve been in and out of here so many times that I’m used to it.

But I wonder what he’s seeing, what he’s feeling. Is this corridor normal for him? Is it unusual? Is it what he expected?

No one talks as we walk. When we reach the demarcation line between the stealth-tech field and the rest of the caves, I half expect to see Mikk and Roderick waiting for us.

But of course they aren’t. They’ve evacuated, just like everyone else.

For the first time, I realize just how alone Al-Nasir and I are. If something goes wrong, if the captain’s military proves hostile, we’re as good as dead.

I continue to walk and don’t look around. The hovercarts aren’t where we left them, but that’s also as it should be. If the hovercarts are still below, they’ll be just below the cave’s entrance.

I should have asked for someone’s weapon. I went into the Dignity Vessel unarmed, which means I’m unarmed now.

So is Al-Nasir. Everyone else has those laser pistols and a lot of determination.

My curiosity brought me here. From the moment I saw that first Dignity Vessel until the moment I walked on board the captain’s ship, I’ve been curious about the ships and their crews. Now I know. The military forces of legend aren’t romantic and sweet.

They’re as tough and dangerous as any military force.

As the Empire’s force.

And I’m leading them to the surface.

I only hope that my people have had enough time to get away.

The woman set the pace faster than Coop would have liked. Had he set the pace, he would have lingered and examined the walls, noting that the lights lining the edge of the ceiling were gray with unbonded nanobits. He would have asked someone, maybe Dix, how that was even possible. The nanobits were black; how had they turned gray?

But he didn’t. He walked rapidly to keep up with her, just like the rest of his team did.

She didn’t like the team. He could tell that from the start. She didn’t greet them, didn’t talk to them, didn’t seem at all curious about them. That edge of panic she’d had since he had told her he was going to the surface remained.

The corridors looked familiar and unfamiliar. He’d been in a thousand corridors just like this, in various sector bases. The newer sector bases had smooth corridor walls like this, or the newer corridors had them, before someone went in and reprogrammed the nanobits to make some kind of art. The reprogrammings were limited in time, so that various artists had a chance to work. He never knew what he would see going through a corridor, from representational art to calligraphy to school projects by very young children.

What had been here when he left was long gone, no longer even remembered.

If she was right.

They rounded a corner and the light changed. Natural light filtered in with the lighting created by nanobits. The team wasn’t far from the opening.

They rounded one more corner, and there were four vehicles parked side by side.

His breath caught and he looked at the woman. She looked relieved to see them.

“Tell her to wait for us,” he said to the lieutenant.

He studied the vehicles. Flat, open, with bench seats and controls that looked primitive. He walked to the nearest, ran his hand along the edge, and shook his head slightly.

What had happened here? He had left a thriving community filled with scientists, engineers, and intellectuals, a community that used the cutting edge of the Fleet’s technology to build these caverns as well as the repair room, to keep the anacapa running and to create a city above.

He had returned to a place with technology that looked ancient and unwieldy, to people who did not speak his language and who thought energy spikes that blew holes in the ground were some kind natural phenomenon that they superstitiously called death holes.

“Coop?” Dix came up beside him. “She wants us to go up in these things?”

“I haven’t asked,” Coop said, “but since they’re the only vehicles here, I’d think the answer is yes.”

He walked around them and headed to the opening of the caves. The ladder remained, carved into the walls, just like he remembered. But the opening was twice as high as he remembered. That climb would tire all of them.

The woman spoke.

“She says you don’t want to do that,” the lieutenant said. “She did it a few weeks ago, and it exhausted her.”

Coop turned and looked at the woman. She had her arms crossed. “Did these vehicles fail?”

“There was a groundquake when we arrived.” The lieutenant didn’t even translate his comment. She had known this. “It destroyed their vehicles. She’s the one who climbed out for help.”

Coop watched the woman as Al-Nasir translated for her. She climbed out for help, even though her people looked fit. She didn’t command others to do the hard tasks. She did them herself.

She might not have a military force, but she acted like a leader.

He walked over to her, the lieutenant trailing him.

“Please,” he said in her language. Then he had to use his. “Sit beside me as we go to the surface.”

She didn’t take her gaze off his face as Al-Nasir translated for her. “Why?” she asked.

He wasn’t sure why. If he were to give a reason, he would say that he didn’t want her to go first to warn people on the surface, but that wasn’t the reason. Whether she was right about the five thousand years or not, something was very wrong at this place, and she had nothing to do with the wrongness.

He wanted her beside him because, even though they didn’t speak the same language, they had the same attitude toward the people under their command. It was a small bond, but it was the only one he had at the moment, and he valued it.

He didn’t say that. Instead, he said, “So you can explain what I’m seeing.”