Chapter Twenty-Seven
Arresting Symmetry
The tenth level fascinated Mace. There was a key here, and he could feel it. So once again they went to where the anti-radiation drugs were harvested.
The mushroom light was so dim that Mace needed a lantern, but KinShan seemed perfectly comfortable. He now understood that she was sighted where he was blind, and vice versa. A fascinating balance.
She brought them out on a ledge ten meters above the ground.
The light of his lantern barely illuminated the scene before them, the set of vast ancient gates that stood between them and the Depth Dwellers. A gigantic set of gears had once been connected to chains thicker than a human body, but those chains no longer raised and lowered the gates, and the machinery was long disused. The gates resembled a great mouth. Today, there were perhaps a dozen workers digging in the mud and shoveling raw Glassbane into carts.
Something growled in the darkness behind the gates. KinShan’s fingers brushed the whip coiled at her waist. He had wondered about the weapon. Certainly it was not used on the Hillians. The Sa’ad–Hillian connection seemed forged by love alone. But whatever lived behind the gates radiated danger. And he was sure that, from time to time, the danger escaped.
The Sa’ad would be wise to stay ready. Remembering the shattered crystal, he hazarded that they were.
“Who created these gates?” Mace asked. They were large enough to dock a medium-sized space shuttle.
“There are legends about this,” she said. “Some say they have been here forever. There is one story that they were created eight hundred years ago, but I think that is conservative. We did not build them, but we discovered…” KinShan fell suddenly silent.
She grabbed his arm and pointed: A tentacle was snaking out from behind the gates. This must be a Depth Dweller. But the guards and workers weren’t paying attention.
One Colicoid worker, focused on his next shovel-load of mud, didn’t notice until the tentacle had his ankle—and then it was too late.
His shriek of horror and dismay was ear-shattering. Another worker screamed, “Help him!”
A guard sprang to his defense, swinging her shock prod. Sparks rained from the contact. She was a human, stout and strong, with skin almost as rich as Mace’s and a shaven skull. Again, like Mace.
The tentacle quivered but did not release its prey.
But the other three guards were frightened, and they fled. This time, Mace did not wait. Maintaining his anonymity was not worth the life of an innocent. Following an instinct deeper than thought, he vaulted down, pulling his lightsaber from its hidden compartment in his staff so that it was at the ready by the time his feet touched the ground.
“Hieee!” Mace screamed as he struck. The stink of singed flesh filled the stagnant air.
The guard’s eyes went wide. “Jedi! He is a Jedi! I must tell Chulok—” She turned to flee—and ran right into another tentacle. She slammed her shock prod repeatedly against the purple, suckered, boneless arm, to no effect.
“Jedi! Help me!”
“So that you can expose me to Chulok?”
“No! No! I swear—” Her words became gobbling, inarticulate babbles as terror froze her mind. Inexorably, one scrabbling meter at a time, she was pulled toward the gates.
The prisoners were screaming but not helping. Who could blame them? Who would react differently?
He glanced at KinShan, who had jumped down after him. She did nothing to help, but her placid expression told him what he needed to know. His lightsaber hummed as he brought it down, severing the creature’s hold.
The tentacle vanished back behind the gates. The guard lay puffing on her belly, her face strained.
This is the moment she will scream and jump up and flee to tell Chulok, Mace thought.
“You saved my life,” the guard said.
“Yes. Your name?”
“Corporal Thanna Tan.”
“And what will you do in return, Corporal Tan?”
She knelt. “Serve you.”
“You need not serve me. Rather, it is your planet that is in need of service,” Mace said.
Tan looked shocked for a moment. Mace suspected she had never seen someone reject power over another before.
“What must I do?” Tan asked.
“Be ready for when I call on you,” Mace said. “Until then…say nothing of me, and go light with the whip.”
“Yes, honored sir.” She stood, a little dazed.
He noted that she remained a sober distance from the bars. This guard wouldn’t make that mistake a second time. Hopefully, she had learned other lessons as well.
“How do we thank you?” a prisoner said.
“By saying nothing of this. Nothing of me.” Mace studied their faces. He saw desperation but not the sort of deceit that would betray a potential benefactor for short-term gain.
No. They were his to command.
“You have come to save us?”
“If you are to be saved, you must save yourselves. I will help if I can. But I need you to promise silence.”
“This we can do,” the prisoners said together.
KinShan said as she led him back up through unmarked tunnels. He was beginning to sense his way around, but he hoped for another dozen hours of guided tours before he really needed to fend for himself. Maps or not, this was as complex as a rassit warren.
He found himself pleased by the fact that she was impressed. Not his ego, certainly. Just thankful for the admiration of an ally. Of course.
Mace said, “Strategically, it may have been foolish.”
“Because you may have revealed yourself?”
Mace nodded. “If one of them talks, it could be tricky.” Which was an understatement almost as impressive as his actions.
“But you took the risk. The guard?”
“Thanna Tan glimpsed hell, and she was rescued from it. I don’t know what the future holds. I do know that I must act in accordance with my nature. And my nature aligns with the Force.”
“Sometimes, those who have never seen such action can be changed by its demonstration. You…are an unusual man.”
He smiled. It was good to hear that. “And you, an unusual woman. It is good to walk with you.”
She bumped against him.
“We both carry staffs.”
“Different motivations.”
She agreed. “I compensate for lack of sight. You, so that you might not be seen for who you really are. An arresting symmetry.”