Connor and Beth had laughed at the antics, and Jordan loved him, content to sit for hours on his tree-trunk leg as Thor created spellbinding tales of great adventures, of legendary heroes of old and their ancient battles with mythic beasts. Or of frightening, epic journeys by men who dared to venture to mysterious lands where they discovered magical rings and fantastic treasures, hidden on the far side of darkness. Then he would, as ever, leave with the red dawn that never seemed to truly depart.
Memories...
Sleet slashed him and Thor winced.
A sea wind whispered, rising from the ice tide over the edge of the blackened ridge, and the cold brought Thor again to the present. He blinked against the dark tide, focusing his mind once more. He felt a night wind pass through his spirit and perceived a fear that disturbed him, a fear that made him sense that something ... that something had ended ...
Ice-green eyes hard against the wind, Thor wondered at the sensation. Then he grimly turned his mind from it before it gained a foothold in his soul, before it corrupted him with fear. He knew deep in his heart what was coming; yes, coming beneath the wind and the darkness and the sea. Knew it as surely as he knew his own life, and death.
“Come, Tanngrisner,” he frowned, easing the proud stallion forward. “Let us go down and see our friend. One last time ...”
After tiredly shedding his cold weather gear at the bottom of the elevator shaft, Chesterton set off at what seemed a familiar pace, walking the brightly illuminated alloy grill that networked the cavern. Wordless, Connor fell in behind him.
It was a long journey, and Connor took notice that never once did Chesterton look up at the fantastic, inverted forests of stalactites, the brilliant white gypsum columns, or fist-sized calcite cave pearls that filled the far recesses of the floor. One hour later they reached the Observation Room, located beside the deepest cavern.
“Remember,” Chesterton said, staring intently, “just do your job, Connor. Don't mess with the control matrix. Don't mess with anything at all. This room is as classified as it can get.”
Connor shook his head as he stepped onto the dull, polished floor. A thick steel door was open, propped against the wall by a chair. But as he entered the room he looked up, abruptly pausing.
Though it had been cleaned, the room showed obvious signs of a fantastic explosion. Cautiously, Connor took a light-footed step into the room, as if he were walking over a live wire. He glanced at Chesterton, now standing quietly in the center, staring grimly at the flame-blackened paneling.
In front of the twenty-foot-long row of computer terminals, Connor saw that the fire door was emergency sealed, solid as an anvil. But above the control panel, a long section of steel paneling had been essentially vaporized, the remaining edges molded in the shape of water pouring up at the top, down at the lower edge. Looking upward into the section, Connor also saw a broken length of 1,000-amp wiring, one end melted to the south wall, the other melted to the north wall, twenty feet between the two junctions. Unable to contain his amazement, Connor turned to Chesterton.
“How many people got killed in here?”
Chesterton shook his head. “Just do your job, Connor. Whatever happened in here is classified.”
Connor looked back at the wall. Then he pushed down on the computer panel, testing, and leaped lightly atop it. He stood, gazing more closely into the melted section of steel before he walked to the south edge, peering at the blackened wire.
“Is this power line shut off, Chesterton?”
A solid nod. “It's off.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, Connor, it's off. I'm sure.”
“Uh-huh.”
Connor picked up a long piece of plastic. He stood five feet away and lightly touched the wire. Nothing happened. So he stepped closer, prying less timidly with the shaft at the thick, unbending stick. The wire moved slightly. Then he took out a screwdriver, walking up. He stuck the point behind the burned end and jerked hard on the insulated section once, twice, three times until it loudly tore loose.
Chesterton shifted. “Do you have to make so much noise, Connor?”
With faint anger, Connor looked down. “What?”
“I said: Do you have to make so much noise?”
Connor gazed wonderingly at the empty room, down again. “We disturbing somebody, Chesterton?”
Frowning, Chesterton focused on the fire door. “Just do the job as quietly as possible.”
A moment of silence and Connor turned away, working at the wire until he had pulled two extra feet of its length from the wall. He turned the end in his hands, studying the wire, the steel panels. He saw that a small hole was burned in the exterior wall, the insulation blown away from the far side, of the wiring, and the closer side of the thick 1,000-amp wire was melted. He studied the combination for a long time, finally leaping from the platform.