Jayne Castle - After Glow

Whatever the cause, the rat holes were scattered around all of the ancient cities. As long as they existed there was no way to completely limit access to the catacombs. There would always be ruin rats, illegal antiquities hunters, thrill seekers, and criminals who would be willing to take their chances underground.

Once through the crack, Emmett found himself confronted by a standard-looking passageway. There were several intersections ahead, each with a number of branching corridors that would, in turn, lead to more intersections and branching passages and so on for miles. Without amber he would become disoriented and lost as soon as he turned the first corner.

He sent a small pulse of psi power through his watch face, orienting his para-rez senses. The tuned amber functioned as a compass. Now, no matter where he went down here, he would be able to find his way back to this spot. He could use someone else's amber to navigate if necessary.

Near the entrance were the supplies and equipment that Maltby had accumulated during his years of ruin hunting. Emmett stepped up into the mag-sled, pulsed the key, and glanced at the amber-rez directional locator situated on the dash. It was functional. Now he had a backup compass.

The little vehicle hummed to life.

Fuzz growled, sounding agitated and impatient. Emmett reached up and took him down from his shoulder. He held the dust-bunny up so that he could look the creature straight in all four of his eyes.

"This is it, pal. You're on. We're playing the Find Lydia game for real. You did it once before. Let's see if you can do it again."

Fuzz blinked. His hunting eyes gleamed. His sleek, sinewy little body quivered beneath the ratty fur.

Emmett put him down on top of the sled's hood directly in front of the wheel, facing the corridors.

"Find Lydia."

He set the sled into motion, moving at a slow speed, praying that Fuzz would send some kind of signal with his body language at the first intersection.

Fuzz leaned forward as if sniffing the scent on some invisible wind. If he was right, Emmett thought, the dust-bunny was actually sending out some sort of psychic probe.

At the first branching in the corridors, they confronted the entrance to five different passages. Emmett looked at Fuzz who was staring fixedly at the second tunnel on the right.

Experimentally, Emmett started to veer to the left.

Fuzz stiffened, bounced a few times, and uttered a series of sharp little growls. His distress was plain.

Emmett obediently turned toward the tunnel that had caught Fuzz's attention.

The dust-bunny settled down, satisfied, and went back to staring straight ahead.

"Fuzz, old buddy, you make one hell of a hood ornament."

The endless cascades of illusion shadow plunged in seething waves from ceiling to floor. The thick, churning darkness formed an ominous curtain of energy across one entire wall of the vast chamber.

Lydia stared at it, awed and seriously thrilled in spite of the fact that she had other priorities at the moment. Priorities such as figuring out how to escape the clutches of the Greenies.

"You were right, Herb," she said, trying not to let her excitement show. "It's incredible. Absolutely huge."

"About two hundred feet across and nearly forty feet high," Herbert said. "None of the tanglers on our crews can even come close to figuring out how to de-rez it."

She found herself succumbing to her professional curiosity. "Did you check the records?"

"I assure you, I've spent hours searching excavation reports all the way back to the founding of the colonies and there is no record of anyone ever encountering anything like this. As far as we can tell it is unique."

Lydia did not point out that unique was a high-risk word in para-archaeology. Just because an unusual illusion trap or a particular type of relic appeared to be one of a kind did not mean that there weren't a thousand more of them somewhere down here in the unmapped sectors awaiting discovery. She was not, however, in the mood to discuss archaeological theory and practice with Herb.

"You really think you're going to find the tomb of this Amatheon character behind that illusion trap?" she asked. She had not yet been able to figure out if Herbert had bought into his own cult beliefs or not.

"Amatheon has guided us to this place," Herbert intoned. "This incredible wall of trap shadow was obviously set to protect some great secret. It can only be the Philosopher's tomb."

"No offense, Herb, but if you really believe that you're channeling Amatheon, you should probably make an appointment with a good para-shrink first thing in the morning."

Herbert did not take offense. He merely inclined his head politely. "I know you do not follow the teachings. That is your choice. But if it makes you feel any better, I will tell you that in addition to Amatheon's guidance, I had the help of a map."

"Good grief, you found a genuine Harmonic map and you didn't turn it over to the authorities? Do you have any idea of how valuable such a discovery is? In two hundred years we haven't found any written records, at least none that we've been able to decipher. A map of even a portion of the catacombs would be an incredible thing."

"Calm yourself, Mrs. London." Herbert raised his brows. "I didn't say that the map was drawn by the Harmonics."

"Oh." Lydia took a deep breath and got herself back under control. "So, who did create it?"

"I believe that the chart was hand drawn by Vincent Lee Vance."

"You're joking, right? Are you telling me that the revolutionary leader found this place a hundred years ago and drew a map?"

"That is exactly what I am telling you. I suspect that Vance established his second headquarters on the other side of that curtain of energy in the tomb of Amatheon."

Several pieces of the jumbled puzzle settled into place.

"Where did you find this map?" Lydia asked cautiously.

"In Vance's first headquarters, in the catacombs beneath Old Frequency."

Lydia sucked in her breath. "You're Troy Burgis, aren't you?"

Real surprise flashed briefly in his eyes. He concealed it quickly. "Troy Burgis disappeared fifteen years ago, Mrs. London. He never reappeared."

"Okay, have it your way. Tell me, what makes you think that I can de-rez this monster?"

"I don't think you can do it, Mrs. London, I know you can."

"What do you mean?"

"You did it once before, the last time you were here."

Lydia spun back to face him. "What are you saying?"

"This is the chamber where we found you unconscious. There are only two ways to get into this room. We know for certain that you did not arrive here via the corridor that you and I just used because it is guarded at all times. There is only one other way you could have entered this place."

"You're saying that I came through that illusion trap?"

Herbert inclined his head. "As far as we know, you are the only person who has ever seen the inside of Amatheon's tomb and Vance's secret headquarters here in Cadence."

"You kidnapped me so that I could show you how I de-rezzed that massive trap?"

"As I said, we are desperate. In exchange for showing us the path into the tomb we are prepared to let you have full excavation rights. You, Mrs. London, will have the honor, not to mention the enormous prestige, of being the lead para-archaeologist on the team that documents and records whatever lies behind that barrier. You've been looking for a way to regain your reputation. This project will make you a legend in the world of para-archaeology"

"There's just one problem," Lydia said. "I don't remember how I did it the first time."

The Greenie robe smelled unpleasantly of someone else's body odor but at least it fit reasonably well. Fuzz had the worst of it because he was inside, tucked under Emmett's arm.