Page 55 of Alien Peacock
My helmet gives off a soft hiss as I open the visor.
“Looks robust,” Arelion says and shakes the colossal steel frame that surrounds the lift. “The Bululg must have taken it over from someone else. Let’s see if it works.” He finds the levers and uses Cerak’s black device to unlock them. Then he works the control until he figures out the system. “Simple enough. There’s one platform up here and one down in the mine. I suspect the onethat’s down there will go up when this goes down. If the guards are watching it, they will know someone is on the way. Maeve, someone has to stay up here and work the controls.”
“There are levers right there, on the elevator itself,” I point out. “Nice try, Arelion. But I’m going down with you.”
He gives me a lopsided smile, and even in this tense situation, it makes my heart flutter. “All right. You know I had to try.”
“No need to try again,” I tell him as we step onto the elevator platform. It’s too large and heavy to do more than shake a little when Arelion puts his weight on it. “They should work, too.” I point to the levers.
Arelion goes over and pulls one of them. The platform starts to descend.
Virlu changes his grip on the big sacks full of weapons he’s carrying. “Nervosity is a state of being anxious or agitated,” he informs us, looking up at the shrinking square of light above us. “It is often characterized by physical symptoms, such as sweating, trembling, or a rapid heartbeat.”
Arelion puts a big, blue hand on his furry shoulder. “We’re all nervous, Virlu. It’s a healthy thing to be before going into deadly danger. The tension makes you react faster and more correctly. I was always nervous when I was flying in space with my squadron.”
“Leadership is the ability to guide and influence others to achieve a common goal,” Virlu responds in his peculiar way. “It involves inspiring and motivating individuals to reach their full potential.”
Yeah, I’m obviously not the only one who sees Arelion’s qualities. Imagine him leading a whole planet full of peacock-like aliens! I’d love to see it. Up close, if possible.
I take a deep breath. Maybe one day. First, I have other things to do.
The platform descends fast, and to my relief it doesn’t make much noise. We sometimes pass light points on the shaft wall or tunnels leading away from it, but there’s nobody around.
I start to feel more optimistic about this whole thing. There’s obviously nothing of value to steal here. There would be no reason for practically anyone to break into this mine. It’s a place you’d want to do your best to stay the hell away from.
“How many guards can we take on?” I ask, keeping my voice down.
“If they are Fresks, and if we surprise them, we can take on dozens,” Arelion says. “There’s bound to be more workers than guards.”
After a long descent, the platform slows down, then abruptly stops with a scream of metal rubbing against metal.
“I think we’re here,” I whisper and tighten my grip on the ray gun. “No one in sight.”
Arelion holds his own gun ready as he steps off the platform and down to the ground. “Close your helmet, Maeve,” he orders. “The bottoms of mines are known for being the places where dangerous gasses end up if they’re heavier than air.”
I do as he says, not protesting that I’m the only one wearing a helmet.
All four of us get off the platform. Or so I assume — Sponz is hard to see at the best of times. Many tunnels lead away from this central chamber, reminding me of both Maranar Labs and Gigori. Except those tunnels didn’t have steel tracks.
We stand there for a minute, listening. There’s a distant screech of a drill going into rock. There are hoarse commands being yelled and the sounds of many pickaxes and shovels being used on rock, hard and loose. After a while there’s the rumble of explosive charges going off, miles away.
“A fully working mine,” Arelion mutters. “Here’s what they’ve mined so far.” He points.
Behind the elevator there are hundreds of low wagons, filled to the brim with ore.
As I think about what that says about the number of workers here, there’s movement in one of the tunnels.
A full wagon comes rolling on the tracks, pushed by four workers in yellow overalls.
I freeze when I see them. They look a lot like Earthlings.
They’re keeping their heads down, and it takes a while for them to see us. When they do, all they see is a big, blue angel-like apparition with wings spread out, holding a gun that shines in silver.
“Fuck! What the hell is that thing?” they exclaim as they draw back to the wall of the mine. In English, I notice.
“Greetings,” Arelion booms. “We are here to help you get out.”
I run over to him, pushing the visor of my helmet back up. “They’re from Earth!”