CHAPTER 51

“This isn’t over,” Jael says, as Vel takes off his muzzle.

Next, the bounty hunter removes his restraints. We can’t leave any sign this isn’t the same human they had before. I’m counting on the fact that we all look alike to them . . . and even if some guard notices, he won’t want to get in trouble by being the one to point it out. How do you explain winding up with the wrong prisoner in a completely secure facility? In such a case, the person who reports the discrepancy is almost certainly going to be blamed, harking back to a long, proud tradition of shooting the messenger.

Jael fixes on us a look sparkling with hatred. “They won’t be able to hold me. And I will find you.”

I smile from the other side of the grate. “Good luck with that.”

“Word to the wise,” March says. “Yelling just pisses them off.”

“From here, you cannot speak,” Vel tells us.

I know that, but March needs the reminder. Jael’s suit is a tight squeeze for him in the shoulders, but he wedges into it. Vel takes a moment to paint some stripes on it, differentiating him from the Bug we carried in. Clever. It wouldn’t pass muster close up in good light since the colors are clearly painted, not etched in the usual way, but down here, it should do.

We pass through the checkpoints easily, just three Bugs returning from a patrol. We’re only stopped at the last one. The guard eyes us. “Everything quiet in there?”

“There is one troublemaker making noise,” Vel says. “Otherwise, yes.”

“Good. Going off duty?”

“Food break.”

The guard accepts this without question. “Enjoy. See you later.”

Like hell.

To my surprise, Vel takes us straight back to the staging area. “One glitch,” he says in an undertone. “I did not mention it earlier, Sirantha, because you were worried enough. But when I was using the workstation, I could not find an exit not linked to the underground. This place is completely secure.”

Well, shit.

Our ride off world is already in orbit. We have to get to the shuttle within twenty-four hours. If we take the underground back to the city, that’s eight hours gone. Then how do we get back out here? We have no ground transport, and the Ithtorians don’t travel on the surface, because of the hazardous conditions.

“They have to get fresh air in here somehow,” March says. It’s a little disconcerting to hear his voice coming out of a Bug head. No wonder he thought he was dreaming when I opened his cell.

“That was my first thought as well,” Vel answers. “But according to the schematics, they use fissures too small for humans—or Ithtorians to pass through.”

“So what do we do?”

Vel seems none too certain, hesitating before he speaks. “My scans are not entirely accurate with so much rock around us, you must understand . . . but they indicate there is an abandoned area in the mines. There may be holes once used for structural supports, which have since been relocated. I cannot determine whether these shafts go all the way to the surface, but they offer the only outlets not connected to the underground.”

I shrug. “So let’s go.”

He’s not telling us everything, but standing around here will just get us caught. Without further conversation, he leads across the platform and into the mines. The metal sheeting bangs underfoot. As during our last foray, the workers don’t pay us any attention. Some of them operate heavy machinery in the large caverns. Others use hand units to take samples. Starry ore glitters in wheeled tubs.

We pass a few other guards, but they don’t speak. They also roam the place in twos and threes, so our number doesn’t attract any attention. Eventually, we come to a rusty old locked door. March and I stand watch while Vel gets it open.

On the other side, Vel says, “From here, it does not matter if we speak. There are no miners and no guards over here.”

“Do we know what lies ahead?” I ask.

“There was no data regarding this area in the archives, but I note a number of large life signs ahead of us.

They may be hostile.”

“Then I’m taking this off.” March pulls off his Bug head. “I can’t fight this way.”

I agree with that, so we take a moment to pull off our suits. Mary, I smell rank. Vel sprinkles them with dry acid chemburner and in short order, they’re reduced to dust. He’s amazing at leaving no trace of where he’s been or what he’s done there. I love that gift now, since he’s no longer using it to hunt me.

“You got a shockstick in there for me?” I ask Vel.

In answer, he hands me one, and I power it up. We haven’t come this far to be stopped by a few cave beasts. March accepts a shockstick and a knife. He can probably use both at the same time—stun and stab.

“This way to the first shaft.” The bounty hunter leads.

March falls in behind him, and I bring up the rear. It occurs to me we finally have the time for me to ask some questions. “Vel . . . I’ve been meaning to ask you. This chip you implanted in me, it’s experimental, isn’t it?”

The bounty hunter casts a glance over one shoulder. “How did you know?”

“Because it governs more than just speech.” I explain how it helped me understand body language as well.

“Wait a minute.” March stops walking, his hands curling into fists. “You put something inside her that hasn’t been fully tested?”

“Not by any formal authority,” Vel admits. “But my own research indicated I have perfected the prototype.”

For a long moment, March stares at him. “If it was anyone else, I’d end you. Don’t screw around with her safety, you understand me?” He touches my throat with care and delicacy. “It’s bad enough you put your mark on her to cover something I did.”

“So you realize you hurt her. Then perhaps it is you who should not ‘screw around’ with her safety.” Vel starts walking without waiting for a response.

March lunges as if he’s going to start something, and I snag his arm. “We can’t fight down here. You know that, right?” In the distance, I hear something rumbling. It sounds big and angry. “That’s our obstacle. Not each other.”

He follows in furious strides, but he’s not angry with Vel or me. The connections I restored also include their share of guilt. The bitter with the sweet, as Hit said.

In the darkness, I can hear the monsters gathering. Grunts and muted roars echo through the empty mine shafts. Are they talking about us, trying to figure out what we are? I assume they’ve smelled Ithtorians before. I wonder what they eat down here, if there’s a complex ecosystem underground, driven off the surface by nuclear winter.

It stands to reason that there would be. So maybe all the creatures aren’t dangerous. Bearing out this possibility, something flutters past my face, but it doesn’t bite or sting. I shudder, my breath sticking in my throat. The little thing comes back. Flutter, flutter, flutter. I’m afraid to ask Vel to shine the light on me.

“Are you feeling this?” I ask, low.

Not webs. I know the sticky horror of that all too well. More like . . . wings?

The bounty hunter swings around. “A deraphid, though I have never seen one of such size before, and the wingspan is extraordinary.” He extends a claw, and the insect leaves its inspection of my cheek to light on his fingertips. “Remarkable.”

Once I control my instinctive terror, even I can see the thing is harmless. It has no weapons, no stingers, nothing that could pierce the skin. With its smooth, sleek body and translucent wings shining green-gold, it’s almost beautiful.

“How does it survive down here?”

“It must eat parasites from other creatures and perhaps mold and fungus.”

Mmm, tasty.

Vel flicks his fingers gently, and the deraphid goes about its business. Reassured that everything down here doesn’t want to eat us, we head toward the shaft. That reassurance doesn’t last long with the growling in the distance. I can hear movement nearby.

I try to focus on March and Vel. My heartbeat thunders in my ears. It seems I always face my private devils underground, fighting not to relive the Sargasso crash. Instead of charred metal and meat, I have solid stone.

The black walls sparkle with untapped ore. With Vel in the lead, I can only follow, and hope that the beasts I hear all around us aren’t as close as they sound. Maybe the dark and the echoes have disoriented me.

Unfortunately, they are as close as they sound.

The thing lurches out of a side passage, a monstrosity of white fur and slavering fangs. It stands twice as tall as me, and probably five times my weight. The roar echoes off the rock walls, paralyzing me. I stare up at its hideous, eyeless face, and shudder. This creature could unhinge its jaw and swallow me whole.

Thankfully, Vel doesn’t have the same response. He goes for the thing’s hamstring, assuming it has one.

March dives low on the other side, and they slice in unison as the monster makes a grab for me. I hit the ground, diving between its legs.

The creature screams in pain. Shit, it’s going to fall on me. I scramble back as it goes down and wind up half-wedged beneath its massive shoulder. It’s not dead, just wounded and furious. It turns its head and snaps at me. The fangs graze my shoulder, sending pain ripping down my arm. Blood trickles from the wound.

The horror of being trapped beneath a dying thing nearly shorts out my brain. It’s all I can do not to lose my mind and scream until my voice is gone, but before they kill it or get it off me, I take the easy way and pass out.

I come to myself later—how much later, I don’t know. March cradles me against his chest. The stink of monstrous blood is all over me, but apparently that’s a good thing because the other cave creatures leave us alone. In fact, they whimper as we pass by.

“Most intriguing,” Vel remarks. “They have acknowledged us as superior predators, and they mourn the passing of one of their own.”

March looks thoughtful in the light thrown from the torch-tube. “That suggests a certain level of sentience.”

Call me crazy. I’m not that interested in the thinking skills of the things. I just want out of here before I give in to the panic clamoring through me.

“I’m okay,” I manage. “You can put me down now.”

March smiles. “I know I can. I just don’t want to. I like holding you.” His voice drops. “I didn’t think I ever would again.”

Huh. Well, I could argue with that, but . . . why? I nestle close to him. Later, we’re going to have a serious talk about his opinion of me.

We walk for a long while. In the dark, I have no way to measure the time. Finally, we reach the first shaft.

“This is it,” Vel says, gazing up.

It’s a reverse pit, no hint of light to give us hope it might go all the way up.

March sets me on my feet. “Somebody needs to scope it out, make sure it doesn’t shrink suddenly so that all three of us will get stuck up there.”

“It is narrow,” Vel agrees.

I try to make myself sound braver than I feel. “That’s my cue. I’m the smallest.”

This is no different than rock climbing, I tell myself. Except that it’s small, pitch black, and I don’t know what the hell is up there. “If you have a rope, I’ll take it up with me and secure it so you guys can follow when I find a good place.”

They won’t be able to climb as I do, using hands and feet to scramble up. They’re just too big. Their shoulders will just barely clear the shaft.

“I don’t want you doing this,” March says. “We’ll keep walking.”

“Like hell. I want out of here.” Without waiting for more protests, I take the cord from Vel and loop it around my waist. “Wish me luck.”

Instead, March snatches me close, despite my stench, and kisses me hard on the mouth. “Be careful. I love you, Jax, and we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Tears prickle at my eyes. “Damn right. I won’t be long.”

I hope.