“I overheard him before,” Gruum said, pointing at Philip. “He said they’ve all fled.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “We need to prepare for the worst, and if we’re lucky, be pleasantly surprised when nothing bad happens. But if we think it’s easy, and then they surprise us…” I shook my head. “Then it will go badly for us.”

  “Those are wise words.” Gruum looked around. “It’s strange being down here after all this time.” He shuddered. “I feel the walls closing in on me. I hate the deep tunnels. I yearn for the open spaces.”

  Those were strange words coming from Gruum, seeing as how he lived in a deep tunnel system in the other mountains. Yet, this had been the place of his imprisonment. He’d escaped and fled along with all these other guys. Yet, here they all were again.

  We descended another level, going down stairs and passing through large doors. It wasn’t as cold this level.

  I caught Skarl sniffing the air.

  “I smell something,” he admitted.

  “Do you hear anything?”

  He glanced about, listening, and shook his head.

  “Stay near me,” I said.

  “Are we all going to stay near you?” Phillip asked.

  “Shut up,” I said, “unless you have something useful to say.”

  Philip gulped and lowered his head.

  Did he do that to hide a sudden flicker of sneakiness? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t going to ask him.

  I gripped my phasor harder. Then I put it away and drew the Colt. I was going to save the phasor for something only it could deal with. The Colt and the tight confines of the tunnels—if I shot it, the noise would be deafening.

  We moved down tunnels, looking everywhere. A palpable feeling—not of claustrophobia—I sensed a trap. It was the same feeling I’d had as a Marine in Bhutan going into a supposedly empty village. Something was happening. I couldn’t put my finger on it, and I didn’t know why I felt this way. I glanced behind. We were all together. No one seemed to me missing.

  “If you hear anything, tell me,” my words echoing in the tunnel.

  Skarl grunted an affirmative.

  We passed a junction with several different tunnels going off in different directions.

  I grabbed Philip by the scruff of the neck. “Which way leads to the women’s quarters?”

  He looked around, at me. “Straight ahead,” he said.

  We were already headed that way. I let go of his neck, saying nothing as we continued to tramp through the damp tunnel. Now, however, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I looked at Skarl.

  The big Neanderthal nodded. “I feel something, too.”

  There was a clang in the distance.

  “What was that?” I said.

  Others stirred, looking around.

  I noted that the Nine were with me.

  All of a sudden, a hurrah echoed off the corridor walls. Someone other than our guys made the noise.

  “Someone is coming!” a Neanderthal in back shouted.

  Panic could kill us faster than anything could. Fighting for our lives would be better than blind panic taking hold.

  “Stand in place!” I shouted. “Be ready. Remember, we have superior weapons. We’ve defeated them before.”

  Fear swirled in their eyes. They hadn’t signed up for tunnel warfare. We’d destroyed the enemy hours ago in the valley, in sunlight. Many of us were still tired from that fight.

  The enemy must have raced from the side corridors we’d just passed. In the rear of our company came shouts and bellows. Seconds later, there were meaty thuds, roars of rage and screams. Luckily for us, they didn’t time it perfectly.

  The others should have waited for us in front to surge through to help those in back.

  “Look!” Philip shrieked, pointing ahead.

  I turned—I’d already been looking back. Now, I looked forward again.

  Charging down the tunnel before us raced Slave-Corps Neanderthals. These were bigger than any I’d seen so far. They weren’t as tall as I was, but certainly weighed more. They charged with ferocity, perhaps even with drugged craziness in their eyes. They bellowed, gripping spiked clubs and short swords, some both, one in each hand.

  Before I could give a command, Skarl was down on one knee. He raised his lance and fired slowly and deliberately. He sent his missiles into the packed mass.

  Others of the Nine followed Skarl’s example, sending mini-missile hissing at the unlucky enemy.

  “Skarl,” I shouted, “you stay here. I’m going to help those in back.”

  Without waiting for his reply, I waded through our packed-together warriors. I thought once more about Hannibal as he’d corralled the great Roman army of 70,000 legionaries into a tight mass. Those in the center hadn’t even been able to raise their weapons.

  I pushed past Neanderthals, using my greater height to see over their heads.

  In the back, a torch fell. From out of the shadows, a drug-crazed Slave-Corps Neanderthal shoved his short sword into one of our warrior’s guts. That Neanderthal screamed.

  I raised my Colt high. Blam! Blam! Blam!

  The automatic firing was deafening. Neanderthals threw themselves from it. It gave me an easy lane.

  The enemy druggie’s head shattered, my bullets doing their job. More of them raced out of the shadows, their short swords reflecting torchlight and slashing.

  I roared with rage and ran at them. As the enemy Neanderthals attacked, I deliberately fired, killing one after another. I swapped out the second-to-last magazine and shoved in the last, continuing until my automatic clicked empty.

  The enemy Neanderthals were drugged, crazed, whatever it was, and winning this part of the fight in the back.

  I noticed Zog and Drogar beside me. They fired their lances to great effect. That gave courage to our warriors, those wearing spiked gauntlets and helmets, wielding short swords and clubs of their own.

  A battle royale took place in the grim confines of the tunnel. It was savage, as the enemy didn’t relent. Fortunately, they proved to be fewer than our one hundred and sixty-five. It was horrific, close-quarters fighting.

  Did gophers fight like this underground in their tunnels? I had no idea. In the end, though, we killed every one of them.

  I discovered abrasions on my arms and a shallow cut on my side. My automatic was useless now as I was out of bullets. The phasor was in my hand, almost depleted of power. I’d used it to kill a dozen drugged enemy swordsmen.

  They might have annihilated us if we hadn’t possessed lances and my phasors. In the torchlight, it was clear they’d slain half of us. This was a disaster.

  I reconsidered and shook my head. It was time to reframe this. It wasn’t a disaster, as many of us still lived.

  Did the enemy have more surprises like that in store? Not if they’d unleashed the Slave-Corps Neanderthals in a drugged frenzy.

  “Warriors,” I said.

  Those that had them raised their torches, some picking others off the floor.

  “The enemy wanted to stop us but failed. We must continue.”

  There was no response. The savagery in the tunnel had taken something out of them. They needed it back if they were going to continue.

  “Isn’t that right, Gruum?” I shouted.

  “Yes,” Gruum said. “Now more than ever we must save the women before they’re taken off-planet.”

  A few warriors stirred, looking around. That was a good sign.

  “Do you know the way?” I asked Philip. Somehow, the little rascal had found his way near me.

  “From here, I think so,” Philip said.

  “You’ll guide us. But at the first sign of treachery—” I pushed the phasor barrel against his head, “you’ll be dead. Do you understand?”

  Philip nodded, as he seemed to be out of his snappy replies.

  “Let’s do this!” I shouted.

  More Neanderthals stirred, a few nodding. They were getting their courage back.

  Soon, eighty, maybe ninety of us, some limping, some wounded, continued deeper into the horrific tunnel system.

  -37-

  We descended another level, all ninety-two of us. Skarl had counted and told me.

  We had short swords, spiked clubs and leather helmets—better weapons for the majority of our guys. Unfortunately, we only had a few lances left.

  I had one, each of the Nine had one and Brakka had one. There were two extras. More lances were upstairs above ground, I’m sure, beyond the mines, but this was it down here.

  We were the tip of the spear trying to save the women before the First Folk transferred them to their planet. Certainly, we couldn’t go to the planet of the Institute. I’m sure the First Folk had plenty of high-tech gear to kill us there: floaters, phasor rifles and other weapons I’d faced in the Chaunt System.

  If I had any say, I wouldn’t let any Neanderthals cross through the transfer point to the Institute—if the transfer point were still open.

  I’d been thinking about that. The transfer point reminded me of the AI globe I’d faced at the bottom of the now-radiated Persian Gulf. Was the transfer machine like that or different?

  I’m sure I didn’t know all there was about Traveling from one planet to the next. I did know the First Folk were not Travelers in the sense of having the right genes to use the obelisks and the ziggurats like Livi and I do. The First Folk had some other system, one limited in scope.

  “I hear something,” Skarl said.

  That broke me out of my reveries.

  Some torches had guttered out by now. Others lit the few extras we’d brought along. Instead of narrowing, the tunnels had widened and gotten higher.

  I heard it, too: faint calls, shouts. They reverberated down the tunnel, coming from ahead.

  “The Nine, to me,” I said. I didn’t shout it, but spoke in a firm voice.

  “What if they ambush us from behind again?” Philip said. “You need high-tech weaponeers in back as well.”

  I looked at Philip, deciding not to respond. We’d have concentrated missile fire in one spot. I agreed with the theory of the German Army of World War II, concentrating everything into one mailed fist to smash through. The Israelis often did that, too.

  We advanced cautiously, our Neanderthals pressing together, the herd instinct. They’d faced one too many battles.

  Shouts, those were definitely shouts. Given the deepness of the voices, they sounded Neanderthal.

  In the torchlight, we looked at each other. Skarl and Drogar sweated. Zog licked his lips. Even though he obviously feared the situation, he was eager to find a mate.

  We rounded a bend.

  My lance was raised, my thumb over the firing button, ready to press.

  Instead of enemies, the tunnel merged into a large chamber. In the back were barred doors lined up in a row.

  Big hairy hands gripped bars in the grates of the doors.

  “Help us, help us.” The voice sounded familiar. Then it came to me.

  “Krull,” I shouted, “is that you?”

  From one of the grates, the hands moved away. A Neanderthal face peered through. “Bayard, Jake Bayard, I remember you. Help us. We’re prisoners.”

  I thought carefully. “Skarl, Zog, Drogar, come with me. Brakka, make sure Philip doesn’t do anything suspicious.”

  One of Brakka’s heavy hands fell onto Philip’s left shoulder. He drew the Homo habilis to him.

  Philip didn’t like that, but this wasn’t the moment to trust the sneaky little bastard.

  The four of us approached the barred doors, wary, suspecting a trap. Drogar held a torch.

  “Stand back,” I said.

  Krull and the others did so.

  I looked at Skarl before I aimed and fired a missile at the door. The wood blasted apart.

  “Come out of there,” I said.

  Shoving past the ruined door, seven Neanderthals came out with hunched shoulders and fear etched on their faces.

  “We were placed here because the masters deemed us unreliable,” Krull said. “They would have killed us, but I think they fled, not deeming us worth the risk.”

  “Why would they kill you?” I asked. Krull looked leaner than I remembered. “How long have you been locked up?”

  “By our reckoning, five days,” Krull said.

  “And you’re still alive? How is that possible?”

  “We were lucky. There’s a spot on the back wall where water seeps. We take turns licking it. That’s why we haven’t died of dehydration, although we’re starved.”

  They looked starved, their cheeks almost gaunt and their eyes hollow.

  “If you’re down here,” he said, “you must have defeated the Slave Corps.”

  “Listen, Krull, if this is a trap you’ll be the first to die.”

  He shook his head. “No, no trap. Please, if you have some food, we’re starved.”

  “We’ll get to that,” I said.

  “Let us join you.”

  “You played a game with me before. You didn’t tell me the truth.”

  “I know. The masters forced it upon me. I…I’m sorry, Bayard. The masters played me false even after all I did for them.”

  “That’s supposed to make me trust you?” I asked.

  Krull closed his eyes, breathing heavily. He opened his eyes. “Look, us seven, we know how to run the machine. That’s one of the reasons they didn’t trust us. The masters thought we might sabotage it. We talked about it—you may need us to help you with the transfer machine.”

  I looked at Skarl.

  He was stoic, his face unreadable.

  Krull had a point. If they were techs—

  “All right,” I said, “we’re going to tie your hands behind your backs. If you prove honest and faithful, we’ll let you live. Isn’t that right, Skarl?”

  The stoicism departed as Skarl looked at Krull with narrowed eyes. “Let it be so,” he said gruffly.

  Krull and the others turned their backs to us and put their hands behind them. Drogar lashed each pair of wrists. We placed them in the center of our party, now ninety-nine strong.

  “Are you the last left in the mine?” I asked Krull.

  “I don’t know. We haven’t heard much from here. Thank you for the food, by the way.”

  Drogar had shoved a piece of hardtack into each of their mouths. The captives had devoured it, proving the validity of their statement.

  “The women,” Zog said, stepping up, thrusting his face near Krull’s, “what has happened to the women?”

  Krull shook his head. “The masters must have taken the women.”

  “No,” Zog said, “no.”

  “Let’s check the women’s quarters,” I said. “Let’s make sure before we come to any conclusions.”

  I stared at Zog.

  Zog finally gained control of his emotions and nodded.

  With Philip leading the way and Krull adding recommendations, we headed for the next level.

  -38-

  Not to make too fine of a point about it, but we reached the women’s quarters and broke into them. I knew we’d reached their quarters because the smell was much different, better.

  Long ago, I’d worked two weeks in juvenile hall as a substitute guard. They’d had us walk through the boys’ unit. It stank like sweat. Then I was a guard in co-ed, with younger, smaller boys and the girls. It smelled much more pleasant, as you could well imagine.

  That was the same difference here. I suppose these quarters were like the Ottoman Sultan’s harem.

  Zog went crazy, dashing about, searching for the women.

  Others dashed like mice going in all directions.

  I sat in the main room on a sofa. So did Gruum. I debated taking off the ropes tying Krull and the other Neanderthals’ wrists, but decided against it. They sat and waited quietly on the floor.

  Most of the free Neanderthals shouted and raved, looking for the women.

  The women are gone, aren’t they, Krull?” I said.

  “They’re most certainly gone,” Krull said.

  Our Neanderthals were wild to find them. They could certainly smell that women had been here. It was driving them mad.

  For at least a half hour, they went wild searching, wasting time on a fruitless endeavor.

  I knew that almost right away. Yet, one had to use what one had instead of what one wished he had. You had to deal with people, even Neanderthals, as they were.

  Finally, many returned to this largest chamber. Some looked stricken. Others fumed with rage and grim purposefulness.

  I had to fix this, fast, or there might be a riot.

  Standing, I shouted, “This isn’t the end of the story, my friends. Don’t panic. Don’t think you’re never going to find your mates. This is just part of the story.”

  I repeated that several times until most had returned. It was time to finish this.

  I turned to Philip. “Do you know where the transfer machine is?”

  “Of course I know,” Philip said.

  “Krull?” I asked.

  “I’ll tell you if he speaks the truth or not,” Krull said. “But I’m curious, why are his hands untied and not ours?”

  I almost said, “Free him.” But I remembered the crazed tunnel assault several levels up. Caution might reap huge rewards.

  “I’ll untie your hands if you prove trustworthy. He’s—” I jerked a thumb at Philip—“he has proven himself several times over.”

  Philip glanced at me with surprise, grinning a second later.

  I figured it was time to throw Philip a bone, a nice word before the assembled Neanderthals.

  Krull thought about that, nodding.

  We left the women’s quarters and began to jog through the corridors, descending another two levels.

  As we turned into a new hall, bright light glowed ahead. Some wanted to dash there.

  “Carefully, carefully,” I said. “Since there’s electricity down here, we must be on our guard more than ever.”

  I took out the phasor even as I kept a lance. Here it was. Krull and Philip both agreed the transfer machine was just ahead.

  Was the machine still in operation? If so, that would be a boon.