Patreon or PayPal Me keeps this site and its author alive. Thank you. |
Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 60: Cooper 92
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Kondor 275
“Well, what a motley crew of adventurers we’ve proved to be,” Lodotti said. “Going into dark places underground, and we’ve got two lights between us.”
“Three,” Ren said, “but I’m going to keep mine until it’s needed, as a reserve if the other two fail.”
Cooper wanted to say that the light of the sword wouldn’t fail, but then he realized that since he’d been in this world at least some of its powers had been sporadic, so he shouldn’t be presumptive.
“O.K., someone bring a light up here, and we’ll see which way we might be able to go.”
Brian glanced around, but not sure who had the other light nor seeing it at this moment, he moved toward Lodotti. He was not at all certain he wanted to be in front, but then, he had the best light which also happened to be an effective weapon, so the only qualifications for being in front he could think of which he did not have were he didn’t know where they were going and he wasn’t making a map--and since that applied to everyone, no one was better qualified except perhaps Lodotti, who had taken charge mostly based on force of personality. Chief engineer Ren probably outranked him, but didn’t usually do command.
“Which way, sailor?” he asked as he picked his way through the debris.
“I think the floor is clearer over there,” Lodotti said, pointing. “After you?”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Cooper replied, realizing it wasn’t strictly true, either that he had anticipated this or that he’d had any fear. However, it was true in the sense that he did not really want to lead the way. Still, he was holding the light, and was not certain it would work for anyone else (it might work for the Christian Neptunian Ortan, but he was not with them). Internally shrugging, he decided this task fell to him for the most pragmatic of reasons, and he picked his way through the debris to the place where the floor was clearer.
His sword still did not illumine enough to see any walls, and Cooper wondered whether he was about to lead them in circles. Indeed, it occurred to him that given the possibility of alien technology, they might be in a room in which something would cause them to travel in a circle and believe they were going straight. However, once more he mumbled, “We are in Sovereign hands.”
He wondered whether that particular expression of faith was becoming his personal expression of doubt, that he only said it when his faith was wavering. But then, that was probably not a bad thing, if it restored his faith. He said it again.
Since he didn’t want to go in circles, it made the most sense to go straight, or as straight as he was able in the circumstance. Of course he could pick any direction, but given that he had already moved in as straight a line as he could manage to get out of the debris, that was a reasonable choice. He continued forward, slowly at first to give the others time to pick their ways out of the debris (and remembering that they were to a significant degree relying on his light, which would grow fainter the farther he moved from them). Eventually he was confident that they were gathered behind him. He still couldn’t see anything but the floor ahead--but then, how many different kinds of eyesight were represented by these people?
“It occurs to me,” he said, and the sound of his own voice echoing in the cavernous space caused him to pull back on the volume, “that even though I can’t see anything more than the floor in front of me, some of you might be able to see things I can’t. Speak up if you do.”
No one did, at least, not yet. For several long minutes the silence was broken only by the shuffling of a variety of types of feet and the dripping of water from walls and ceilings that were quite the norm in caves.
Then he thought he saw something, and before he was certain someone else spoke. “We’ve got walls,” he said. “I think the room is narrowing into a hallway of some sort ahead.”
“Luck is obviously with you,” Murane said. “You led us directly to an exit from the room.”
“Jesus is with me,” Cooper said. “Luck has nothing to do with it.”
“Sacrilege!” Murane responded, and Cooper wasn’t certain whether it was a joke. “Don’t jinx it!”
Deciding not to argue, Cooper continued forward into the narrowing space until it was definitely a hall, about fifteen feet wide. Now a bit trepidatious about where it might lead, he slowed the pace, but continued forward.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
