Three days later, they reached the tunnels. The resort had no back operational area into which guests could accidentally wander and break the spell of all the careful theming. Laundry, waste management, storage, employee spaces, security, all of that and more existed underground and could be reached either through discreet hidden entrances within the resort or through tunnel passages disguised as rock formations from outside the resort.
There was even, as it turned out, short-term housing for several chionisaur packs and their humans. When they reached the door at the end of the tunnel, Shara checked in with the man directing traffic, who pointed them off to the left. The cavernous room wasn't at all welcoming, but it was good to be out of the wind, happy voices echoing as everyone shucked snow gear.
They were allowed just enough time to free the bubbies from cargo and harnesses and had almost finished loading the delivery onto pallets when an officious herd of officials descended. Half of them peeled off to corner Shara, while the other half headed straight for Sofia.
"Ms. Cancino!"
"We're so glad to see you! Are you all right?"
"Do you need medical assistance?"
"We have a suite ready for you."
"Everything you need. Anything you need. A private concierge has been assigned."
"Please come this way. Let's get you out of this less-than-wholesome environment."
Sofia raised her hands and her voice, knowing perfectly well that hers could slice through lead when she wanted it to. "Hold up! First, who the hell are you people?"
The shocked expressions lasted long enough for Sofia to take a step back toward Moon so she couldn't be surrounded.
"We're from Central Management," one of the suits said, her voice so obviously pitched to soothe it was condescending. "I'm Tray Howard, Manager of Guest Relations."
"Dr. Litha, head of Medical." The smaller woman behind her piped up. "We need you to come in for a full exam."
"Ms. Cancino, we have documents you need to sign!" someone called from the back.
"Everything's ready for you," a more obsequious voice added. "Your luggage is waiting for you. Dinner will be delivered whenever you're ready."
Dinner. Bath. Bed. Regular clothes. All very tempting. "No."
Tray-Howard-Manager-of-Guest-Relations frowned and dared to step into her personal space. "You can't stay here, Ms. Cancino. Guests are not permitted. Not to mention, I can't imagine why you would want to."
Moon placed her huge head on Sofia's shoulder and growled at the knot of suits. They scrambled back several collective steps.
"I haven't signed the NDA yet." Not going to either, without some serious renegotiations. Sofia petted Moon's nose, pleased at the gasps of dismay she drew from her audience. "And I'm still considering my options. Here's what I want. I want a room with satellite connectivity and a line out to contact my lawyer. This line will be private to ensure client-attorney confidentiality." Yeah, I don't believe it, either. "Next—"
From across the room, Shara was snarling, "We were attacked by glacier crabs! People nearly died!"
"Nevertheless…" The man in coveralls who was speaking to her shook his head. "Damaged container, quarter pay."
Sofia smiled at her audience. "Next, you will make certain that this work crew receives full pay for their cargo run. Their actions were nothing short of heroic, and if it weren't for them, your PR department would have a dead guest to deal with."
Heads bobbed. Several voices murmured, "Of course, of course."
"Room. On this level. Access. Line out. Now, please."
Ms. Howard waved a hand at the lesser minions, who scurried away to make things happen. "We will try to accommodate any request within reason, Ms. Cancino, of course. Though if you're involving your attorney, I am obligated to inform our legal staff as well, you understand."
"Naturally." Sofia leaned against Moon, nuzzling her cheek. "We would've had to involve them sooner or later, anyway."
The herd of suits left in a clump, the higher-ranking ones obviously disconcerted, the remaining lower-ranking ones anxious and confused. The crew had gone back to work but without their normal chatter. Food and water for the chionisaur troughs were the priority, then there were harnesses to hang, saddlebags to sort. Sofia respected their quiet, but it was getting to her. She was about to ask what was wrong with everyone when a minion tapped her on the shoulder.
"Ms. Cancino? If you'd like to follow me, please? We have your uplink sorted."
"Oh, good. Thanks." Sofia left her coat on a wall peg and stopped by Marta to kiss her cheek and whisper, "I'll be back soon."
Marta nodded, tight-lipped, and Sofia wanted to smack herself in the forehead. Right. Marta didn't like to speak around strangers. They'd spoken so much over the last few days, Sofia had forgotten.
As Sofia followed the minion out, Hecky whisper-squeaked, "She's leaving?"
Someone shushed her. Impossible to know who, or what that was all about. Sofia would ask when she got back. Right now, she had some numbers to crunch and a lawyer to call. The office provided for her was Spartan, utilitarian, and probably belonged to a low-level administrator of some sort who was currently disgruntled for being displaced. Not important. She needed access and simple programming.
The call to the legal expert at her company went to messaging. He was in a meeting, as usual. But that was all right, too. Sofia had work to do. All the information from Dieter, everything Sofia knew about actual day-to-day chionisaur team operations, public information about Y-Corp, commensurate salary charts both in-system and across the populated worlds—all of this went into feverishly built spreadsheets and comparison charts. By the time her call came through, she had a decent proposal together.
"Sofia? I thought you were on leave." The image hovering over the holo plate was a comfortable, settled middle-age, one of the most solid, dependable people on the legal team.
"Hello, Richard. I was until the resort tried to kill me."
"Either you're exaggerating or there's a story here." Richard leaned back with his hands folded over his stomach, obviously settling in for a tale.
"Okay, a little of both. I don't think the resort set out to kill me, though they might want to before I'm done." She told Richard about the failed navigation system, the rescue, how the resort used the work-release crews, and an abbreviated account of the perils of the job.
"Sofia Cancino, you sound like a workers' rights advocate. Are you sure you're the same Sofia?"
"Yes, ha-ha. Hilarious. Here's why I called you, though. They want me to sign an NDA so I don't blab to the press and the galaxy about the landing pod failure. Their safety record is supposed to be spotless and something like this would be a huge black mark. I'm willing to sign…"—Sofia suspected her grin wasn't a nice one—"with conditions."
"Do tell." Richard leaned forward, his eyes bright with interest.
"They're exploiting the work-release crews. I know, I know. People would say it's all part of having the sentences reduced. But it's work anyone else would be pulling down hazard pay for. And the company deducts for all sorts of bullshit things that they should provide. A new pair of boots—deducted from pay. Cargo damaged in transit—deducted. Trip to the infirmary— deducted. It's all pretty evil, really."
Richard made a come-on gesture with his hands. "Hit me with it. I know you have numbers to show me. And do you have their NDA handy?"
"You have to ask?" Sofia shot the pertinent documents to him and sat back while he perused, salt-and-pepper brows drawn together.
When Richard finally glanced up again, his expression had slid from intrigued to some species of unholy glee. "These are quite the demands. You know they won't be resolved in a single session."
"I know. Do you think it's feasible, though? Reasonable? I'm not asking for anything near what these folks are actually worth."
"It's more than reasonable, and I'm shocked that no one's tried to litigate before. Or maybe they have, and there are judicial settlements and NDAs out there not on public record. It is a rather robust NDA, so I suspect this isn't their first time."
"Could you take this on? Would you?"
Richard quirked an eyebrow at her, his voice dry as dust. "I don't work for free, Sofia."
"I know that." Sofia swallowed hard. Her next sentence would make it all too real. "I'll have my severance."
"Well, well. Full of surprises today." Both eyebrows were trying to escape into the wild curls of Richard's hairline. "I'll take this on. For now, don't sign anything. Don't agree to meetings. I'll set things up."
"Thank you." Sofia allowed herself a real smile, something comfortable and warm settling inside her.
There would be battles, but these she understood, as opposed to glacier crab brawls. Was this plan crazy? A little. Would her family understand? Probably not. But for the first time in Sofia's life, she felt good about something. Right. Driven.
She wandered back through the corridors unimpeded, though she was certain she was watched every step of the way. Only when she reached the chionisaur bay did anyone try to stop her.
“You can't go in there, Miss!” A Very Earnest Young Person tried to step in front of her. “Those monsters will eat you!”
“Oh, no! Will they?” Sofia echoed the overwrought speech before patting Young Person on the shoulder. “One of the monsters is mine. I think she's over the eating part by now.”
Young Person gaped, unresisting when Sofia gently pushed them aside. The doors whooshed open to admit her into a sudden silence, the kind where she was sure people had been talking about her, not at all ameliorated by all eyes turning toward her in evident surprise.
"What?"
Peter cleared his throat. "We thought you'd left us. Or had been spirited away, at least."
"Are you...?" Marta, peeking out from behind Snowglider, let the question hang between them like a fraying rescue cable.
"Hey. Not going anywhere."
"They'll find a way to separate you from us." Marta still hadn't approached, wringing Snowglider's harness between her hands. "It's their planet you're standing on."
"Mart's not wrong, you know," Lanel's tone was firm but ringed with sorrow. "They'll say, Come get your luggage, or Here, come to this meeting. And they won't let you come back down."
Sofia opened her mouth to contradict him and shut it again. Lanel was right. If she allowed herself to be lured up out of the tunnels, she'd never see them again. Never see Marta again.
"Right." Maybe her smile wasn't at all friendly, but warmth spread inside her to see the crew echo it as conclusions settled in with solid thunks. “How about we don't give them the opportunity?”
The first volley came that afternoon with the return of Manager-of-Guest-Relations Tray Howard and a small army of minions.
"We have a luncheon meeting set up for you in the Blue Room of Castle Evergreen." Manager Howard's smile bristled with sharp edges. "We thought you might be interested in a presentation on the history of the resort."
"That sounds fascinating." Sofia tried to mimic the broken-glass smile as she leaned against Moon's shoulder. "Why don't we have it down here? Make a picnic of it?"
Manager Howard most definitely did not sputter. Department heads at her level had those impulses microsurgically removed. Close thing, though. "Surely you'd be more comfortable—"
"Completely comfortable here." Sofia slid down to sit on Moon's enormous clawed foot, her face aching from holding back a grin. The suits shuffled here and there, but none had the courage to cross the line into chionisaur jaw-and-claw range. "Oh, I know. Why don't you have one of the mini-managers bring my comm set down here, since none of you seem happy about sitting down with the bubbies. Send me the presentation and I promise I'll be riveted."
The dangerous smile had turned sour. "Of course. Whatever arrangement suits you best."
The crew gathered around when the YPC executives had retreated. Petey patted Sofia's shoulder. "Well done. But you know they're not finished."
"Right. That's why I need my comm."
Within the hour, a young minion darted in, deposited Sofia's comm bag just inside the door with shaking hands, and fled with a little whimper. Interesting. While the executives were understandably cautious of the chionisaurs, the general workforce seemed terrified. Sofia had to wonder what stories they had been told to cause such fear.
Sofia gathered everyone close when she had set up her comm and put a call through to Richard's office. She twined her fingers with Marta's while they waited.
"Sofia." Richard flickered into view, chuckling at the gathering around and behind her. "So these are your adopted miscreants?"
"These are." Sofia pointed around in a flurry of introductions without letting go of Marta. "Shara, Fiero, Petey, Tre, Lanel, Hecky, and Marta."
Something in Richard's legal-hawk expression softened. "I see. Now I understand fully. Everything all right there?"
"So far, Mr. Khoury," Shara answered for them. "But this is a dangerous game Sofia's playing."
Fiero's growl might have been agreement or aggravation. "They're going to escalate, sir. This could get bad."
Richard drummed restless fingers on his desk. "Keep in mind that public image is directly tied to profits for them. They're not selling a commodity everyone needs. They rely on the good opinion of the public to remain solvent. Sofia, can you set up a live feed?"
"Of here?"
"Yes, in the chionisaur bay. I'll give you a direct link to the office here and have the law clerks monitoring."
Sofia wrinkled her forehead. "Do I tell them about it?"
"Not yet. I'm going to have one of my cleverest interns sheath the signal, so they'll have to work hard to cut the feed if they become aware of it. If they manage to, I'll take that as a sign that you're under duress. In addition, if you do feel physically threatened at any point, make them aware. Tell them you're recording and your attorney's receiving."
"I can do that." Sofia tamped down on a smile when Marta squeezed her fingers. There were skills on this end, too. She didn't have to do this alone.
"Good. I've sent potential filings to their legal staff at the resort and have opened a case with Inter-system Arbitration in case YPC proves intractable. Not in their best interests, and I think they'll see that, but it's possible. Things should begin to move quickly, everyone. Be prepared."
"Nice man, your lawyer," Tre said when they'd disconnected.
Lanel kissed their temple. "Handsome, too. But he's a shark, love, pleased that there's blood in the water."
"Better the shark we know." Sofia looked up from fiddling with her comm set. "Sergeant Fiero? Could you help me set this up?"
Fiero cracked her knuckles. "With pleasure. We'll set some protections up on this end, too. Hecky will assist."
"Me?" Hecky's eyes were wide and far too innocent. "I've never hacked—"
Shara laughed and gave Hecky a slap on the back that sent her stumbling. "Save it, kiddo. You can't steal shuttles without hacking into launch controls."
Hecky grumbled about flight controls not being comm tech, but it didn't last. Once Sofia had the link set and Fiero began to build protective walls and data hunter traps on their end, Hecky joined in with predictably joyful, unholy glee. The live feed was up within the hour, pointed toward the bay doors through which any invaders—er, corporate employees—would have to come.
The next two days slid by with nothing more dangerous than a bit of gentle harassment. Every few hours, someone showed up trying to tempt Sofia out from the safety of the pack. Wouldn't she like to come upstairs for a proper dinner? Could she come to the office and claim her luggage, please? Drinks with management? And so on. She had no trouble resisting their clumsy courting, but it was annoying.
At least they stopped at night and the crew could retire to their sleeping alcoves along one edge of the bay for some much-needed peace. These were better, though not by much, than the sleeping pods, and each alcove had an accordion door for privacy, its own heating vent, and a tiny, one-person bathroom.
Practically luxurious. A mini-resort for chionisaur crews. Marta laughed and smacked Sofia when she shared the thought.
The third morning, the bay doors ground and rattled open to reveal a line of white-uniformed security. Armed security.
One of the older ones, a hard-eyed man whose stance screamed retired military, spoke. "Ms. Cancino, for your safety and well-being, you need to come with us."
Part of her reacted to the uniform, the voice of authority. Her heart raced, and she wiped damp palms on her pants. Old Sofia wouldn't have wanted to make matters worse. She wouldn't have wanted to get into more trouble and would have complied. New Sofia said, "No."
"Ma'am, you need to step away from those beasts. They're half-feral and unpredictable."
"Right. So that's why you have the work-release crews live with them. Better the chionisaurs eat some convicts than respectable people?"
The officer's face reddened, though Sofia was certain it was impatience rather than chagrin over anything she'd said. "Don't have anything to do with the work crews, ma'am. Not my job. It is my job to keep you safe. Step over here, please. Slow and steady."
Sofia raised her chin and enunciated carefully, remembering the feed was on. "No. I do not consent to going with you."
She half expected the man to bellow at her, but a huff was all he allowed himself before he gestured to two of the officers. "Harris. Deneuve. Retrieve Ms. Cancino from the unauthorized area."
With an incoherent cry of rage, Marta flung herself in front of Sofia. Just as Sofia put a hand on her shoulder to gently remind her that she was half the size of the advancing officers, a wall of white feather-fur intervened. Oh no. Sofia hurried to duck under and around the crowding chionisaurs, aware that the rest of the crew were trying to squeeze through as well. She didn't get there before the screaming began.
Sofia shoved her way through in time to see Moon snatch one of the advancing officers up in her jaws. Hannibal seized the other. Events accelerated to the point where even Sofia's panic couldn't keep up.
"Moon, no! Put her down!" Sofia yelled as she smacked Moon's shoulder.
From the doorway, the officer in charge bellowed, "Open fire!"
Seven voices in various pitches and timbres cried out No! as seven bodies flung themselves in front of the chionisaurs.
Both hands in front of her, Sofia screamed, "You're being recorded firing on civilians!"
One shot fired. Two. Three. Sofia couldn't help a shriek as she tried to urge Moon away from the guns.
"Cease fire! Cease fire! Weapons up!"
It took several seconds to realize the cease-fire order, given in a sergeant's must-be-obeyed roar, had come from Fiero. There was still screaming, but her crew were all on their feet. None of the bubbies appeared to be in distress. She hoped that meant the officers had fired into the ceiling or walls.
"Moon!" Sofia said sternly, pointing to the floor. "Put the human down! Down!"
With a disgruntled huff, Moon opened her jaws and dropped a hysterical and extremely damp officer to the floor. Petey tapped at Hannibal's neck and accomplished the same thing without yelling, the dripping officer landing on his butt, sputtering. To Sofia's relief, both officers scrambled away, unharmed, behind the line of their colleagues.
"What do you mean recorded?" Officer in Charge’s eyes had narrowed, his tone wary.
"Sofia!" Richard's panicked voice yelled from her comm unit.
Sofia swallowed hard. She might have tipped their hand too soon, but someone would've gotten hurt. "We have a live feed running to my attorney's office. Which now shows you firing on a work-release crew and a paying customer."
Officer in Charge mulled this over. If he squints any harder, he might accidentally fall asleep. "I have to report this to management."
"You do that. Goodbye, officers. Sorry about the, ah, drool there."
The door closed on the shaken security force, though Sofia had no illusions about them going anywhere. They'd stay right outside the door and report from there.
"Everyone all right?" she called out as she checked Moon over.
Marta called out from the other side of the bay. "Popsicle's right side was grazed. One of Shadow's front feet, too. That's it."
Sofia exchanged a look with Shara, who shook her head with a little smile. Of course the chionisaurs took precedence.
"Sofia!"
"Oops." She raced over to her comm set and plunked down beside it so Richard could see her. "We're okay, Richard. Promise. Everyone's all right."
"Good. But that was too close." Richard clutched a stylus in his fist so tightly it had broken. "Screw their NDA to blazes and back. They need to feel this in their shareholders' pockets. We need to go public to keep you—all of you—safe. Do I have your permission to get this incident out to the media, feed included?"
"Mine, yes. I guess we could blur out anyone who doesn't want to be shown?" Sofia turned to Shara. "Yes?"
"Not like any of us being here's a big secret." Shara shrugged, spreading her hands to include the crew. "Convictions and work release are public record. Petey's the only one who might not want his face plastered on newscasts."
Petey's gentle expression grew suddenly fierce. "I stand by my family and I won't hide."
Sofia shot him a grateful smile. "Go for it, Richard. That's our official permission to use the feed."
"Excellent. We'll have a press release together within the hour. Keep the feed running, just in case." Richard looked up from his system, where he was most likely summoning all his minions. "Don't take this the wrong way. But this is the most fun I've had in years."
When he signed off, Tre let out a little snort. "That man has an odd idea of fun."
"Attorney fun is different from most people's fun," Lanel pointed out. "I guess now we wait. And maybe move the bubbies back from the doors."
"Richard Khoury's about to create a public media circus." Sofia opened her arms and let Marta snuggle into them, as much to calm her own shaking as Marta's. "I don't think we'll be waiting long."
The inter-system news ended some of the aforesaid waiting that afternoon. All of them crowded around Sofia's comm set to watch after Richard had sent a message advising them to. The pretty newsreader introduced the story as troubling developments at the Yule Planet Resort. The recording of their brief confrontation with security followed, played on repeat.
"Some viewers may find this footage disturbing. What you're witnessing is YPC Security firing on an unarmed work-release crew. From what we've been able to gather, those large animals are native to the planet and partnered with the work crews. Our sources say the animals intervened when they believed their riders threatened. The officers in this footage were unharmed."
The view zoomed in on Sofia.
"We've identified this woman as Sofia Cancino, a guest of the resort. Her family states that they became concerned when they didn't hear from Ms. Cancino over several days. YPC responded to inquiries from the authorities by stating that it was against policy to disturb guest privacy. But we've since learned that Ms. Cancino's landing pod malfunctioned and crashed far off course in an unpopulated ice field."
"They do like to exaggerate," Petey murmured. "It wasn't that far off course."
"And it was a snow field," Tre whispered.
"We've reached out to YPC for comment," the newsreader continued. "So far they have offered no official statement. Details are still coming in as we speak. We'll update you as we know more."
The news program switched to an ongoing mineral-rights riot in the Proxima Centauri asteroid ring.
Hecky tilted her head at the holo imager. "Won't this just make the suits mad?"
"Sure. But now they have to be careful." A wolfish smile spread across Shara's face. "They're supposed to be a warm, family-friendly company. Anything happens to us, it'll be hard to explain away."
"What will make them even madder is having their indigenous population fiction exposed." Marta absently stroked chionisaur noses as they shoved through the humans for attention. "Shara's got it, though. The galaxy's watching."
"Until the next news cycle," Fiero grumbled.
She cut her griping short when the newscast returned to Yule Planet with a view of the resort's on-planet hospitality center. The vid showed wall-to-wall people—impatient, angry people—then switched to a nearly identical view at pod registration on the orbiting station.
"This newsroom is receiving viewer vids from on-site at the YPC resort." The newsreader's professional calm nearly crackled with smug enthusiasm. "Reports of the Cancino pod malfunction have reached arriving guests and those on-planet. Frightened resort-goers have crowded registration spaces either to get off-planet by emergency shuttle or cancel their pod launches from the station. We still have no official statement from YPC, but if you look closely at the footage, you will spot a small army of resort employees in green and red trying to calm the panic."
"Not that you, dear newscaster, had anything to do with said panic," Lanel said at his driest.
The news story droned on about famous historic disasters at other resorts, about the potential drop in share price for the corporation, about the number of people who visited the resort every year, and so on. The sudden crackle of an overhead intercom drew everyone's attention away from the news vids.
Crew Six, you will prepare for immediate departure for cargo retrieval at Shuttle Base Five. I repeat, Crew Six, prepare for immediate cargo-run departure. Please respond.
Hecky leaped up from her crate. "They can't do that! We just got here! We can't be up again yet!"
"They can do whatever they want, kid," Shara grumbled as she shuffled over to the comm pad.
"Shara, wait!" Sofia called out and held up a hand when Shara snarled at her. "Please. Richard's sending text. Just a second."
Crew Six, please respond.
Sofia scooped up her entire comm set and hurried over to Shara so she could read the message. For one heart-stopping moment, Shara's snarl became seriously threatening.
"Are you trying to get us sent back to the colonies?"
"No. Damn it, Shara, just read."
To Sofia's relief, she did. The clouds of fury in her eyes cleared, replaced by shrewd consideration. Shara raised an eyebrow at her, straightened to face the comm, and manhandled Sofia over to where she could address the system while still reading Richard's words.
"We refuse."
There were several gasps behind her and a small crash as Hecky stumbled into the harness rack.
Refusal will result in immediate deportation.
"We have the right to refuse during contract negotiation."
An audible sigh came over the intercom. You have nonnegotiable contracts. It's in the contracts.
"Work-release contracts are negotiable in instances of unsafe conditions or unsound compensation models." Shara read verbatim from the screen now. "There's…" She hesitated over a word, then continued with triumphant swagger. "Precedent. Morris vs. Causalcorp. And Okafor vs. Consolidated Candy."
I don't—
"Well, you better check with your legal hounds, Mr. Voice of the Company. 'Cause there's briefs being filed right the hell now, and Mr. Khoury's on a call with the Interstellar Corrections Bureau."
The intercom cut out abruptly.
"What now?" Tre asked softly. "What if they send more security? Call in actual law enforcement?"
"We stand our ground," Marta answered before anyone else could, the fierce light in her eyes making Sofia weak in the knees. "You all heard the newscast. They're portraying us as the unarmed victims. The corporation looks like the big mean bully right now. They can't afford to remove us by force with the galaxy watching."
"They could still do it." Hecky rubbed at her arms, a gangly bundle of nervous tension. "Cut the feed. Shoot the bubbies. Take us out. Cover it all up."
"Maybe before." Fiero wrapped an arm around her, squeezing until Hecky stood some version of still. "But now there'd be questions. They're supposed to be a friendly, jolly company. Can't have rumors about disappearing people. And no one's even tried to get at our feed yet."
"What're you saying, Fi?"
"That we got us some sympathizers up in comp control."
"Huh."
A sense of being at the center of a vortex surrounded them, a shuddering tension in a moment of calm. Huracán, Sofia's ancestors had called the whirling atmospheric storms and she had some sense now of what they meant by standing in the eye of one. No one seemed willing to move.
"Game of Five Hop Draw?" Lanel asked, his soft voice echoing in the silence.
Just like that, the spell broke and there were smiles and self-deprecating chuckles.
"All right, but only if I'm dealing." Petey nodded as he pulled an old-fashioned plas deck from his coat.
"Why's that?" Hecky looked up from pulling over a crate for a card table.
"Because the rest of you cheat."