The CRES code

Chapter Sixty - The Reunion

It was mid afternoon before the workmen finished clearing off the helicopter landing pad, and the nobles had returned to stare dismally down at it.

"No door," said Baron Hardy, pulling his long coat closer around himself against the strengthening wind. "Just a single, smooth expanse of devil rock."

"You have my apology, as I promised you would," said Randall to Duke Latimer. "The elevator will be over there, then."

They all followed him as he led the way to another spot fifty metres away. "Somewhere around here," he said. "There was a large building here once, the size of your mansion. Somewhere under it is the shaft leading down to the vault, but above it will be a layer of bricks and rubble. All that's left of the building. It'll all have to be cleared away."

"Why wasn't it also made of devil rock?" asked Baron Hardy. "Why isn't the building still standing today?"

"They say that the weapons of the Old Ones were powerful beyond belief," said Randall. "Not even devil rock could withstand them. And any building that was still standing was destroyed by VIX and his angels when they cleansed the Earth. We are simply fortunate that VIX didn't know about the underground vault."

"Maybe He did know about it and He destroyed it as well."

Randall shrugged his shoulders. "I guess we'll know soon enough," he said.

"Well, then the sooner we start, the sooner we finish," said Duke Latimer. He beckoned the workmen over and once again they attacked the ground with picks and spades. Soon they were digging up broken slabs of plasteel which they hauled out of the way while trying to touch them as little as possible. Randall saw several of the burly labourers glance upwards now and then, looking to see if VIX was in the sky. They'd erected another, smaller marquee over the site, but the machine god could still see them when it was low down in the sky. One man after another made signs of protection against evil and Randall suspected that they might have just fled, fearing divine retribution, if the Duke hadn't been paying them so much. Much more than they would normally have received for a job of this nature.

Randall hoped that their nerve held. What he feared most was that one man, more timid or more devout than the others, might decide that he was placing his immortal soul in too much peril and would try to abandon the job and flee back to the city. He might try to salve his conscience by confessing to a priest, to the total ruin of Randall's plan. If that happened, Loach's men had their orders, but one man trying to mutiny might encourage others to do the same and they outnumbered Loach's heavies by ten to one.

He remained where he was, therefore, as Loach and the aristocrats drifted away, and he watched nervously as the area of broken ground spread and the pile of fragmented plasteel grew on the edge of the site. Although the upward glances and the signs of protection continued, though, there was no sign of anyone abandoning the work. After a while, therefore, he allowed himself to relax and wandered away to find something to eat.

A short distance away, though, two other people were watching. Emily and Jane, having just finished walking from where the carriage had dropped them off. Although they had no way of knowing, it was the same copse of trees in which Randall and Loach had spoken to the orc chieftain. If either woman had looked down, they might have seen their footprints in the newly frozen ground, but they both had their full attentions on the hive of activity fifty yards away in front of them.

"How long do you think it'll take them to find the elevator?" asked Jane. She was wishing she'd brought some sensible boots for walking around in the countryside. Her town shoes simply weren't up to the task. She'd nearly twisted an ankle a couple of times on the hummocky ground and the air was cold on her ankles, covered only by a thin layer of cotton.