19

At first Bodhi walked cautiously through the smooth-sided tunnels. It looked like giant worms had bored through solid limestone to build this maze wonder. A horizontal column of illumination from the ceiling traveled with him, stretching from so many feet behind to that same distance ahead. He tested it. No matter how slow or fast he traveled, it remained centered over him. He found a comfortable jogging speed and his breathing evened as his brain absorbed the chemicals from running. He calmed. Logic returned, overcoming his breakneck dash to be Selah’s protector. He needed an actual plan to find her and then escape without the shootout of last time.

The air never changed. There was none of the dampness or musty smell he remembered from other caves. He kept to the corridors on the right but felt the narrow chamber curve to the west before straightening out. Strange. He smelled flowers, and the hum of a loud machine vibrated in his head, making him wince as he approached what appeared to be the end of the tunnel. He slowed.

Bodhi felt a cool flush as the blood drained from his sweaty face. He strode to the wall and ran his hands over the full width of the smooth, cool limestone surface. What was this? There was no opening. He searched more of the wall surface. Why would the old man send him out like a dog chasing its tail? His chest started to tighten. Glade could be in danger. He swallowed hard. Selah could be in danger. He stared at the wall, trying to will it open.

He breathed hard, pacing back and forth. He ran a hand through his hair. What were his options? It was a long way back. If his internal clock still functioned, he figured he’d been in the tunnels for an hour. That was another hour back to the cavern and then traveling five miles by land to the Mountain. But he had no way of getting in. How had Selah gotten inside?

Bodhi turned to head back up the tunnel. A scraping rumble filled the space, vibrating the floor. He thought of running, but he’d be seen for quite a distance. He couldn’t outrun a weapon. He turned in time to see a seamless door swing open at the end of the tunnel. He steeled himself for a fight.

The first woman through the door had to bend over through the opening. A long, dark ponytail dropped over her shoulder as she raised her head.

“Mojica!” Bodhi had never been so happy to see such a beautiful familiar face. If he hadn’t been in love with Selah, this was the kind of woman he’d have been attracted to—smoky eyes, high cheekbones, and great lips.

Mojica straightened to her six-foot stature, and her black beret missed the top of the circular tunnel by about four inches. Three more of her tactical force entered, clad in dark one-piece uniforms. Bodhi got to wear one of those high-tech uniforms when they’d carried out the rescue of the Landers.

“I have to admit that you’re the last person I expected to find gracing this passageway,” Mojica said. Her hands fisted on her hips. “But I was waiting for you to show up pounding on the front door.” She motioned him to follow and went back through the doorway. Her forces brought up the rear.

Mojica led him through several corridors that looked to be made of Mountain stone on one side and a composite on the other. He hurried to keep up with her long stride. “You’ve got to help me—”

“Yes, Selah’s here. I knew where she was up until about a half hour ago.”

Bodhi grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “If you knew she was here, why didn’t you save her?”

Mojica shook her head and calmly pried Bodhi’s fingers from her arm. “Selah walked in here of her own accord. I have special sensors that alert me the moment a Lander or progeny gets near the Mountain. It is not my place to stop her from anything. It is my domain to be of help when asked, and not until.”

Bodhi winced as they walked out into bright daylight. “I’m asking! Help me get Selah safely out of here, please!” He shielded his eyes and looked up. A lazy blue sky appeared, with clouds and a brilliant orb streaming faux sunshine that gave off warmth.

“It’s going to be a little difficult at the moment. Treva has apparently taken her into the Keepers’ old tunnel system. They could pop up anywhere within the numerous miles of communities in the Mountain. I’ve got most of my TFs working on another operation at the moment.” Mojica led him into an area covered in sand and cactuses. Were they cactuses? Yes. How did he know that?

Mojica walked to the front of a flat-roofed mud-brick building.

“Not acceptable to me. I’ll find her myself. I thought you were friendly to her cause, but I must be mistaken.” Bodhi turned away from the door opening.

Mojica yelled to a TF, “Stop him!”

The dark-clad tactical force member turned out to be another Amazon-like woman mirroring Mojica’s stature. She stepped into Bodhi’s path with her right hand on her hip weapon and her left palm out to stop him.

Bodhi glared at her and turned back to Mojica. “You’re going to stop me? What is wrong with you? You helped save her father, and now you’re going to let her be harmed?”

Mojica strode to his position in three long-legged steps. Standing toe-to-toe with her, Bodhi recognized her intimidating act of looking down her nose at him. He didn’t feel threatened. In the past, he’d used the tactic himself.

“If you run around skittering like a protective boyfriend, that’s the fastest way to get her hurt. Have you noticed there are no sirens or alerts? Bethany Everling got her slacks handed to her the last time her private security force ran roughshod over the Mountain terrain, and she knows better than to raise an alarm that would bring the Politicos down on her again. With her husband turned into a head of cabbage, her influence is limited to the Science Consortium, not general governing.”

“I think you’re just saying anything to placate me so I won’t go look. But that’s not going to be the case. And I don’t skitter,” Bodhi said. He wanted to bluff her, but it was hard not having any idea where he was in the Mountain or how to find Selah.

Mojica let out a deep sigh and waved away the last of her TFs. “Technically, I’m the only one available to help you.”

Bodhi opened his mouth to protest. But protest what? He’d better settle for the help he could get, not what he wanted, even though he had the impression this woman didn’t like him much. His internal clock was losing hours.

The humming in his head dropped a few decibels. He let out a sigh of relief.

Mojica looked at him sideways. “Did you feel that?”

“Yes,” Bodhi said. “It gave me a headache when I first encountered it in the tunnels. I got used to the vibration, but to have it cycle down is a relief. What is it?”

Mojica shook her head. “Nothing for you to worry about. I just didn’t know that you as a transitioned Lander would be able to feel it.”

Bodhi raised his eyes to hers. “Your knowledge seems to be much more current than the last time I was here.” It bothered him that he didn’t have information on what or how much she knew, especially about him. Was she someone to be worried about?

“I have my sources. We’ve got to play this smart. I’m waiting for location information. They’re somewhere in my Mountain, and I’ll find them. The threat from Everling’s wife is minimal.”

“How long is this going to take? I have to get her out of here in—”

“I know. The machinery cycled on about an hour ago, so an hour to get back to the Reliquary, and that gives us twenty-two hours at most to find her.” Mojica gestured him through the doorway.

This time Bodhi followed. “What is the Reliquary?” He glanced around as they walked into a control center.

“The cave with the grottos and the old man, where they’re completing the configuration.” Mojica walked to a console with twelve small screens lined up in three rows of four views each. She ran her hands over the halo-buttons, changing the live views at different locations.

“How is it that you seem to know exactly what’s going on?” He’d have felt more comfortable being the one to have the answers. The last time here, he’d taken it for granted that because she worked for Charles Ganston, she was on their side. Now he knew segments of the First Protocol were in a power struggle. So where did her interests fall?

Mojica smiled for the first time since he arrived. “This is my Mountain. Nothing happens here without me knowing. It will be sad to leave.”

“Why would you leave? Do you mean you’re coming with us?”

Mojica looked up from her observations. “I—we—will be escorting your group out of here. It’s time for everyone to go before it’s sealed.”

“Before what’s—”

A shrill wail echoed across the control room. Bodhi winced. It seemed to be the right decibel to cut through his brain. His eyes darted across the screens, looking for the offense.

Mojica slapped a nearby console and killed the sound. “My day just keeps getting better and better.”

“What is it? I don’t see anything different on the screens.”

“That alarm tells me there’s a Lander child coming into the Mountain.” Mojica slid into the seat in front of the farthest console and began changing camera angles with a virtual gimbal.

“Great! So you’ve located Selah.”

“No, I said a Lander child coming into the Mountain.” Mojica found the angle she wanted and zoomed in. She pointed to the screen. “That’s the one.”

The wide-angle lens panned, then faced an entrance Bodhi hadn’t seen before. There was a wide area holding AirWagons, SandRuns, and other travel conveyances. He stared as the figures came into focus—a man and a deeply tanned woman with an abundance of curly yellow hair tied back haphazardly. The man’s back faced the camera, but he was tall with dark hair. He turned slowly to face the area of the camera.

Bodhi narrowed his eyes. “Jaenen Malik—but he’s no Lander child!”

“So you know Jaenen? How much do you know about him?” Mojica pursed her lips.

“I know he’s a navigator and Glade hired him to find Selah’s family.”

Mojica slammed her fist on the console. “I knew I’d heard that name before—from Chavez.” She turned to Bodhi. “Selah’s family has been here a few weeks. Varro Chavez had them signed in personally by Bethany Everling.”

“I need to tell Glade about this.” Bodhi’s head swam. It seemed like everyone concerned with Selah was winding up here at the same time. Or maybe it was the flowers he kept smelling. They seemed so close. He had looked around twice for them and neither time could locate the annoying fragrance.

“I told Glade when he left here we’d give him a briefing on the changes since he went into captivity. But he wouldn’t listen. Hiring Jaenen was foolhardy. I don’t understand why someone didn’t warn him.”

Bodhi tensed. “Warn him about what?”

“That Jaenen Malik is part of the opposition Protocol that would like nothing better than to extinguish Glade and get control of a novarium of Selah’s heritage.”

“But why would he be here now?” Bodhi didn’t see how Jaenen coming into the Mountain could have anything to do with Selah. They hadn’t come together.

“I’d say he’s found a hedge of some sort. Everything he does involves money—for him. I bet I know whose child he has.” Mojica led him across the control room to the gear lockers. “Let’s go. Our priorities are changing faster than I can count disasters. You need to change clothes and look like one of my TFs so we can move about unhindered.”

“We have to get Selah’s family out too. Can we track where they are?” Bodhi worried about leading extra people, but if he could be the one to bring Selah the family she had been yearning for, he’d do it.

“I knew where they were yesterday during our immigrant briefing. But barging in there and saying they have to leave with you—a stranger, and a Lander at that . . .” She shook her head.

Bodhi had forgotten his lineage could be a factor. The outside world he lived in was accepting of and unimpressed by his mark.

Mojica directed him to the spares rack. “Here, cover your head before you cause a riot.” She handed him a beret and headed back to her station.

He’d been through this before and knew how to equip himself. He hurriedly stripped and got into the one-piece suit. He slid his feet into the special boots, hooking the latches with a resounding thud. It felt good to be back in this gear again. The biomechanics of the suit tapped into his body through skin-to-material contact, regulating his chemical reactions to bring about optimum cognitive awareness.

Bodhi raised his heels to test the boots’ springiness. They restored the nimbleness he’d lost in the transition. He could get used to being a TF. Securing the gear, he dashed back to Mojica’s station. His internal clock counted down . . . twenty-one hours and forty minutes.

“Using facial recognition, I’ve established several visuals that complicate our job.” Mojica pointed to the rightmost monitor on the bottom level.

Bodhi bent to get a closer look at the people hurrying through an outdoor market. “I don’t know the woman or child, but that’s Selah’s brother—er, stepbrother, Cleon. Where are Selah and Treva?”

“Those two are from the Chavez family. I don’t see Selah and Treva in this frame, but I do see something disturbing here.” Mojica swept her hand over the control. The place and time stamps scrolled forward and came to a stop. She reached for the magnification screen, swung it over the frame, and zoomed in. The spot on the image magnified. “The man with the weapon is Selah’s stepfather.”

Bodhi’s heart stuttered. Varro Chavez was pressing a pulse disruptor into Cleon’s side. Bodhi pushed the magnifier aside. In this image there were two other men, one holding on to Pasha’s arm and one holding on to Dane. He didn’t understand how this fit—rather than a family, they looked like hostages.

He suddenly remembered how Mojica had been loath to give them weapons a few months ago. “Am I getting a weapon this time? And do you have any idea what we’re getting into? It might be nice to know the combatants and the goal.”

Mojica dropped her head for a minute, then looked up at him. “If we had unlimited time, I’d say no, my people could handle it. But we don’t have that luxury, so yes, I’ll arm you. And no, I don’t know what we’re getting into, but we need to go now.”

Bodhi followed her to the armory. Mojica handed him a pulse disruptor. “They’re silent, deadly, and don’t make a scene.” She cinched the leg strap. “I trust you’ll be discreet in our general population. They’re not accustomed to violence, and they may not understand the severity of the situation.”

Bodhi cleared the weapon and laced the holster strap to several of the tabs on the suit before winding it around his leg and cinching it. He now had five other people’s safety to worry about. He wanted Selah to be his first priority, but he didn’t know where she was hiding. Hopefully she and Treva were headed toward the western end of the Mountain. Since Treva knew about her parents’ tunnel system throughout the Mountain, perhaps she also knew of the exit tunnels.

“How do we get to Cleon’s target area?” he asked.

“I’m impressed that you would eliminate the closest threat first rather than take up a fruitless search for Selah,” Mojica said. She looked over at Bodhi and hitched a wry little smile. “You have a mind like a soldier.”

Bodhi glanced at her, then looked away. Then glanced again. “Thank you. I think. Is that significant?”

“No. Not at all. It’s just soldiers know if they were soldiers.”

Bodhi frowned. “I’m not following you.”

“Do you remember being a soldier before you came here?”

“No, the thought never occurred to me. I do remember—did remember—some flashes of things but never full thoughts, and definitely nothing about any military involvement. Why?”

Mojica leaned on the sidearm strapped to her hip. “Just wondering. But watching you dial the load, mount the weapon, and the way you strapped it on—that’s field assassin style.”