Journey to the Heart of Luna - Andy Frankham-Allen [55]
“One final thing to complete my disguise. If you would care to make some room for me, Professor?” he asked, as he took to the ladder.
Nathanial stepped back as far as he could without brushing into the controls of the backhead, and allowed room for the captain. Folkard reached for the head of the shovel and rubbed his hands into the coal dust, which he then proceeded to rub across his face. Nathanial glanced down at the restrained prisoner, now only in his under garments, and nodded. Coupled with the sweat already forming due to the vicinity of the burning coal and the boiler, Folkard’s face now looked somewhat similar to that of the prisoner.
“A stupendous disguise,” Nathanial said, “however this still does not negate my previous concern.”
“Yes.” Folkard climbed back down the ladder. “What to do with you and K’chuk? Perhaps a solution will reveal itself when we enter the camp.”
“We can but hope.” Nathanial peered over K’chuk’s head. There was a glimmer of light ahead. “I believe we are just about there.”
4.
EVEN SEEN through the small partition it was quite an impressive sight. After all the tunnels and small caves, Folkard was beginning to think that was all there was to the secret underground world of Luna. Not so.
The Mole Drill emerged from a narrow tunnel, just big enough to fit the vehicle through, onto an upper level overlooking a wide open space, just over a mile in diameter. At the far end of the open area was a reservoir, taking up a good sixty percent of the overall area, running from the furthest wall out to a bank directly before the Mole Drill. To their left was a bore drilling platform, the massive drill grinding its way into the lunar ground. Selenites of various size and shape were scattered around the drilling area, carrying what looked like buckets of coal away from the area, which they deposited into large bunkers some distance away. From those bunkers other Selenites worked, slowly loading small one-man aerial flyers which then transported the collected minerals out of the large cavern to whatever waited beyond. Folkard suspected that to be the aether flyer that he been seen travelling from and to Luna from time to time. The Selenites were guarded by armed Russian okhrana, rifles at the ready and whips in hand. On the right bank of the reservoir stood a fenced-off compound, within which could be seen many Selenites of the same shade as K’chuk. Some were lying lifeless on the rocky ground, while others shuffled about with what Folkard could only describe as limps. The tortured retainers of knowledge. A row of tents sat nearby, some small, others much larger. This was the command centre of the Russian okhrana. It seemed logical that the commander of the okhrana would want to be in the heart of his operation, rather than safe and secure on an ironclad flyer. Logical only because this operation had clearly been taking place for some time, and the governments of the world had no idea. Folkard would ensure that situation soon changed.
“I see no sign of civilian life, Professor. Can you spot Doctor Grant?”
“Perhaps he is in one of those tents?” Stone ruminated. “Or perhaps not. Over there!” The professor pointed back to a space near the bore drill.
Folkard looked closer, and sure enough he saw two civilians, with an armed guard. They were walking from the drill platform to what appeared to be some kind of wooden lift, which itself hovered above an open chasm. The taller of the two civilians, with wild white hair on his head, was talking to a soldier in the okhrana.
“Tereshkov,” Folkard said, referring to the wild haired old man, and continued to watch as the men stopped by the lift platform. Tereshkov and the soldier finished their discussion, Doctor Grant looking to the ground, much less enthused by the conversation than the Russians were. The soldier turned and walked away, leaving Tereshkov, Grant and their guard to climb onto the lift platform.