Burden of Sisyphus Read Free Page A

the base.”
                Nodding to the robed man, the large Oterian reached forward, prying his fingers between the solid doors.   With a heave, the strong doors screeched, as metal locks tore and broke free.   With a last lurch, Tusque pulled the doors from their hinges and let the stone slabs fall to the ground.  
                Weapons drawn, the group entered the outpost’s cool darkness.   The central foyer split left and right, leading deeper into the plateau’s hollowed rock.
                “Split into teams of two,” the robed man ordered.   “Yen and Eza, take the right wing.   Nova and Ixibas, the left.   Tusque and I will hold the central corridor.   Ainj, you’re on the roof to cover our escape.   Remember, we’re on the clock.   Our transport off this rock won’t wait if we’re late.   Move out.”
                Yen and Eza moved to the right, winding through dark passages lit only by emergency lights.   As they approached the first closed door, the pair stopped.   Air shimmered around Yen, as if his skin smoldered.   Slowly, it receded, and he sighed.
                “There’s no one inside,” Yen said.   “Let’s keep moving.”
                They performed the routine before three more doors, moving deeper into the plateau.   The passages were disturbingly devoid of Terran soldiers, though neither Yen nor Eza believed all had been killed in the courtyard.
                After following several winding passages, the pair finally stood outside a large metal door blocking their way.   A number pad was embedded to the right of the door, with a bright red light glowing above it.
                “We’re locked out,” Eza said.   “We could use Nova right now.”
                “Our computer wizard left, unfortunately.”   The air wavered around him.
                “There’s another way.”   Eza smiled and pulled a block of explosives from his bag.
                Yen held up his hand to silence Eza, sensing five distinct life forms in the room.   Their thoughts, though unclear, gave him vague impressions of ambush and defense.
                “This is it,” he told Eza.   “I’ll see if I can get us through the door without bringing down the roof on us.”
                Eza frowned in disappointment.   “Fine.   Have it your way.”
                Reaching out, Yen contacted the closest mind and pushed his way past the muddled fog of fear and nervousness to reach a cache of recent memories.   Smiling, he retreated from the mind and rejoined his body.
                “Got it,” Yen said, walking to the number pad.   “You ready?”
                Eza slid both his curved ax and handgun from his belt.   Breathing deeply, he let his mind settle and the nervous energy drain from his body.   In the back of his mind, a soft Voice began whispering, filling him with confidence.   He spun the ax effortlessly, as he began weaving back and forth on the balls of his feet.
                We’re ready, the Voice whispered.
                “I’m ready,” Eza echoed into the gloomy hallway.
                Nodding, Yen entered the door code.   The light above the panel changed from bright red to vibrant green, and the metal door slid open with a hiss.
                Time slowed for Eza, as he entered the room, his eyes scanning overturned tables and stacked steel chairs to create impromptu barricades.   To the left and right, stairs led to raised platforms where two Terran soldiers moved as if through fog, training their weapons on the Wyndgaart fighter.   In front of him, three more Terrans took cover behind their fortified positions.
                Eza was already running up the left stairs before the slow pounding of automatic fire began.   The soldier on the platform