The Wheel of Osheim (The Red Queen's War 3)

“Jal?” Snorri smacked my shoulder.

“Sorry—drifted off there.” I uncurled my fingers, eyes on the key. “Well—”

“Access to the central processor complex is rather awkward.” The professor pressed both palms against his chest as if to preclude the possibility of anyone placing the key in his hand. Perhaps when he poked it the thing bit him back. “The real work was always done remotely in the control room.” He nodded toward somewhere high above us. “But for the super-fine control we need it’s best to be right there where the main processors are.”

I nodded as if any of that made sense.

“To reach the right chamber requires climbing seven or eight ladders and several tight squeezes. If I were a younger man . . . Besides, I’m not sure I could last long enough out of my slo-time to reach it.” His gaze fixed on a point over my shoulder. “I’m rather afraid it’s already started.”

I turned, following the professor’s stare, and found myself looking at a large black rat which was perched on a ledge on the side of the engine, a few yards above us. It watched us, unmoving, its eyes gleaming.

A loud thud behind me drew my attention from the rat.

“Shit.”

Cutter John uncurled from the hunched ball into which he’d been compacted by the fifty foot drop from the tunnel edge. I backed into the alcove, hauling Hennan with me by the shoulder. The professor moved to join me. Larry took a few paces forward and stood guard before the alcove. Kara drew her knife, sliding to one side as Snorri stepped forward to intercept. Cutter John ran straight for me at a flat sprint.

The Viking waited, perfectly still, until in the last split second he spun aside, bringing Hel round in a rising arc to take the monster beneath the chin.

The shout of triumph died in my throat as instead of hitting the floor in two pieces Cutter John was simply lifted by the force of the blow, the axe blade failing to bite into him. He landed heavily, but rose even as Snorri brought Hel overhead for a second chop.

“Larry is very reliable, but I would feel safer if . . .” The professor reached over to a nearby panel and tapped a glowing square. “There.”

I didn’t have time to say, “There what?” Immediately the scene outside accelerated to a pace that would have seemed comical if the contents weren’t so disturbing. With blinding speed Cutter John fended off a flurry of blows and struck one of his own that sent Snorri sprawling boneless across the floor. Somewhere in all that Kara must have come in from behind to have her own stab at Cutter John. I spotted her lying in his wake as he blurred toward us. The fight with Larry lasted a while longer, fists flying, neither man giving an inch. For a second, that must have been a minute or more outside, the two were locked together in a test of strength. Suddenly, in a blaze of sparks, Larry’s arm flew across the chamber. Cutter John backhanded him into the metal wall of the engine, and there he was, the torturer, his face pressed against the wall of our slo-time bubble.

I had been holding Hennan back. Now I didn’t have to. Cutter John’s face held an ugliness in it that would unman anyone.

“Oh this is bad,” the professor said. “Very bad.”

“Can’t you do anything?” Hennan yelled. “We need to help them!”

I echoed the sentiment—though it was mainly me I was thinking of when it came to help. I couldn’t speak, though. Fear had stolen my voice. And I couldn’t look away.

“Well,” the professor said behind me. “There’s always this . . .”

“A stick?” Hennan said. “How will—”

Something cracked around the back of my head. I saw two pieces of splintered walking stick fly by, one to either side of my face. After that it was all falling.

THIRTY-ONE

“Ouch!” Something hit me in the face. And again. “God damn it!” I lifted my head and another metal rung passed within a finger of my nose. “Where the hell . . .” I appeared to have been slung over someone’s back. “Put me down!”

“If you want.” Snorri’s voice, very close to my ear. “But it’s probably better if I wait until we’re at the top. It’s a long drop from here and you might damage something important.”

I looked around, immediately regretting moving my head. When the white flashes of pain faded I could see we were in a vertical metal pipe, dimly lit by a glowing strip running its length. Below me Kara and Hennan were climbing, and below them the shaft ran perhaps another ten yards. I tightened my arms around Snorri’s neck, despite the fact that my wrists already appeared to be tied together.