Guns of Mars 71
A Martian action-adventure by The Legend Chuck Dixon
CHAPTER 21.2
When he felt the sun warm the sand around him, he awoke and drained the dregs of his water from the skin. His stomach roiled at the thought of food. He left behind the remaining shank of meat as he made his way farther along the base of the mound. He retained his carbine though, holding it cradled in one arm.
The wall of runes was visible now in the morning light and stretched higher and wider than he could see in any direction. He resisted the urge to read all of the ancient words. Their presence meant that men were here long ago. Perhaps the same breed of men who piloted the wrecked airship he and the thark found back in the canal.
Though wasting, he broke into a trot, brushing a hand on the wall as he made way along the gently curving edifice. The carved panels of writings ended at a columned entryway, the columns fashioned into human figures many times his height. They appeared to be that of a man and a woman though time and the desert winds had abraded the finer features. They guarded an aperture partly obscured by a dune that had blown against the walls of the recessed entry.
He clambered up the sand on hands and knees until he reached the top where he crawled through a gap between a massive arched crossbeam and the crest of the dune. Once through into the dim interior, he tumbled and slid down the lee side of the slope until he reached a level stone floor. The surface was smooth beneath his boot soles. He bent over and ran his hands over the floor. It was set with tiles and each embossed with a design he could not discern in the dimness.
He rested then, closing his eyes against the dark. When he re-opened them he realized his sight had improved. Sources of light beamed down into the chamber he’d found himself in. Recesses had been cut into the walls and vaulted ceiling. These allowed natural light in that illuminated the interior enough for him to navigate. The shimmering luminescence revealed massive columns like the ones that guarded the entrance. These were unmarred by time, their details clear.
Images of Issus and others of the godly pantheon entwined with images of plants and animals. Some the bounty man recognized, others he had never seen in his life. He assumed they were either long-extinct or creatures of the artisan’s fancy.
At the far end of the chamber was a broad archway that appeared to lead down farther into the heart of the mountain. He moved toward it over the tiled floor, avoiding piles of rocky debris that had fallen from the cavernous ceiling in ages past.
As he neared the archway he felt an unfamiliar sensation on his skin. He touched an arm and his fingers came back clammy. He stopped a moment and drew a lungful of air in through his nose. The air was sweet and musty at the same time, heavy with moisture. There was a damp fug in the air, and it was then he heard the sound of water dripping.
Droplets cascaded down on him, dropping from the spines of stalactites above. He stretched out his arms and arched his head back to enjoy a phenomenon he had never before experienced.
Rain.
As he continued toward the arch he saw an aurora swirling beyond the opening. A phantom glow shimmering against an unseen surface. He stumbled into a run then. Rushing beneath the vaulted entryway, his boots slipped on a slick surface and, for a moment, he was airborne. He landed to roll down a flight of steps carved from the rock. He landed on a sloped surface of finely ground sand and pumice to slide to a stop.
Dazed, it wasn’t until he raised himself on his arms that he realized that he had come to rest in water that covered him to his knees. In wonder, he stood and looked out across a subterranean lake that stretched into the darkness further than he could see. It moved gently, lapping on the shore with a ripple as regular as a heartbeat.
He dropped into a crouch and drank his fill from cupped hands. It was sweet and pure as the contents of the tanks he found on the wrecked airship.
He had no way of gauging the depth of the water. All he knew was that this was a greater body of water than he had seen in all of his life. A greater expanse of open water than anyone on this planet had seen in a thousand, thousand years.
The floor of the lake was white and reflected the scant light allowed through apertures in the domed ceiling. The light danced gemlike, casting kaleidoscopic specks of light over every surface. It revealed some kind of grid mounted high above the water, a system of pipes or grates whose purpose was not immediately clear.
The bounty man immersed himself into the water with a gasp. For the first and only time in his life, he was engulfed in liquid. He allowed himself to be buoyed along, the toes of his boots scraping the pebbled surface of the sloping bank.
Special Note: GUNS OF MARS is now available in a hardcover edition. It is available at Amazon and at NDM Express.
