Under A Winter Sun Johan Dahlgren (digital e reader .txt) 📖

core structure stands almost intact. The ice must have bled off most of the kinetic energy in the crash, or the ship would have disintegrated on impact.

We stand in silent awe, staring at the thing.

Rivera hums. “Um. There's a cave over there.”

We all turn to where he points, and there's an enormous opening in the ice, a hundred metres to our right. It's large enough to swallow the Sundowner. Something not made of snow is piled in the opening.

We raise our weapons and approach the cave in tactical formation. Except for Rivera, who keeps moving across our lines of fire. After a lot of silent cursing and vigorous waving of hands, he gets the point and moves to the back of the pack.

We reach the opening. Stacked high against the cave's walls are old worn-out shovels, picks, and buckets. Inside, where the space is shielded from the elements, are footprints.

Someone has been here to visit. Recently, from the looks of it.

I gaze up at the hull. Right there at the top, the two black birds sit watching us.

“Don't go in there,” Aeryn warns.

“Why?”

There's a pause before the construct continues. “There's a ghost in there.”

“A ghost?”

“A ghost is the nearest human analogy I can find.”

“How do you know there's a ghost on that ship?”

“I am picking up unusual emissions. There is something unknown in there.”

“Oh, shut up, Aeryn. You're only trying to scare me.” It's almost succeeding.

“You have been warned.”

The black birds gaze straight down at me. Their black eyes bore into my skull.

A sudden chill runs down my spine when I realise why they tingle my spider-sense.

There are no birds on Nifelheim.

Jagr startles me out of my musings.

“Perez. We're not here to take in the sights.”

“There are two birds up there.” I point them out with a gloved finger.

“Nifelheim has no birds.” But she still looks where I point.

The birds are gone.

“Your mind is playing tricks on you, Perez. Snap out of it, soldier. Go check that cave.”

Jagr motions for Finn and Hildr to take up positions flanking the opening then directs me to be point man. Fancy that.

I enter the cave with the Aitchenkai pointing before me while I scan the snow for tripwires or detection devices of any kind. There are none that I can see, but they might still be there, hidden under the snow.

The cave is ten metres tall and twice as wide. I bet Braden could fly the Sundowner down it. The floor is smooth. Someone has been keeping this cave in good condition, and the wear of the old digging implements tells me they have been doing it for quite some time.

I move down the sloping icy floor, sweeping the barrel of my rifle from side to side. Apart from the rusting digging equipment, the place is empty. It's a few degrees warmer in here, and I pull the smelly scarf from my face. It's still cold enough to freeze my ears off. The tunnel continues down into the darkness.

“Clear,” I call, and the others file in after me.

“All right, let's see where this thing leads,” Jagr says. “Perez, you're on point.”

The tunnel is long. Over the centuries it has been improved with steps cut into the steeper passages to allow humans or Goliaths to move up and down with ease.

After a while, we arrive at a crude opening in the starship hull, roughly two-by-two metres wide. The ice tunnel continues along the hull, and it widens further down.

The opening in the hull is not original. Someone has cut it with a plasma torch. It must have been done a long time ago because the lower edge of the cut has been worn smooth by the passage of thousands of feet. How have the Goliaths kept this thing secret for so long? Pour enough mead down the throat of a Goliath, and he will tell you anything he knows to impress you.

I glance inside, then pull my head back out. “It's dark.”

Jagr hands me something. It's two black marbles, about the size of ancient golf balls. I weigh them in my hand. They're light.

“What are these?”

“Light drones. Throw them inside.”

She motions me on with the tip of her rifle. I throw the objects into the opening.

Small rotors deploy around their equators, and almost soundlessly they take flight. Two powerful pinprick lights turn on, illuminating the ship's interior. Nice.

“They will follow you wherever you go, and shine where you look.”

“And if I want to turn them off?” In case we're compromised, I don't want to be lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

“Clap your hands. Clap again to turn them back on. Spread your arms to make them go wider. Arms together to bring them back in.”

I try it, and the drones respond to my gestures. “Nice.” Earth tech has moved on.

I poke my head back inside. The door is cut high in the wall of one of the ship's enormous loading bays. Inside is a vast space that smells of old dust. It falls away into the depths, rises into the darkness above and stretches away to the left and right. There's a rickety metal bridge leading across the abyss to a door on the far side of the void.

The bridge is constructed of coarse metal plates, welded together with random pieces of junk. It's suspended on rusty metal wires bolted to the walls. Like the entrance, the bridge has been worn smooth.

“Do not go in there.”

“I don't think we have much choice.”

I back out of the door.

“There's a drop inside, so be careful,” I warn the others. “There's also some kind of bridge.”

Jagr checks her weapon. “Any signs of habitation?”

“Not apart from the bridge. There could be people living deeper within the hull. I can't tell from out here.”

I turn to our Goliath entourage.

“How long have you known about this place?”

“We haven't.”

There's a thoughtful frown on Hildr's face. “Unless …”

She glances uncertainly at Finn and her brother. Skallagrim grunts something in their tongue.

“Unless what?”

“Unless the stories about the well of Mimr are true.”

She