Talbot clutched Dya’s body close to his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. Whimpering and sobbing, she buried her head in his neck. The surrounding cavern was blotted with shadow where the weak light of the flash high above didn’t penetrate.
“Hey, it’s all right,” he crooned, petting her hair.
“Damn it! What’s happening down there?” Aguila’s voice thundered from above.
“We’re all right,” Talbot called back. “I caught her. Dya’s fine. But, hey, you guys might get down here. It’s pitch fucking black.”
He lowered his wife to her feet, saying, “Keep a hand on my belt. The footing’s a little treacherous.” Then he fingered around for the rope, felt an invertebrate scuttle its way across the back of his hand.
I really hate this place.
“I thought I was going to die,” Dya whispered behind him. “God, Mark. I’ve never been so scared.”
“You were almost to the bottom. It was only about a meter. I could see your silhouette as you fell. Told you I’d be here for you.”
“Do you know how much I love you?” she whispered. “If I don’t make it . . .”
“We’re going home to Su, Kylee, and the kids. You’ll see.”
He felt it when Muldare’s feet found the rope. “That’s it, Briah. Just like basic training.”
“Fuck you, Talbot,” she called down. “I was always your beat on a fast rope.”
He held it for her, watching the flashlight beam darting this way and that as she descended, the light obviously held in her teeth. As she reached the bottom, he could see the gallery they were in. Sickly pale invertebrates kept fleeing like a receding wave before the light. The floor continued to slant down, a second tube coming in from the side to join theirs.
“Supervisor?” Muldare asked, shining her light up.
“Damn, it’s dark up here,” Aguila’s voice called down. “Okay, there’s a little light refracted. Hold the flash steady. Right there. That’s good.” And then, “I’m coming down.”
Mark got hold of the rope, thankful that Muldare’s light was shining up. At least he’d have warning if the Supervisor’s body came plummeting down.
“I should have been last,” Muldare noted. “I’m trained for this.”
“Yeah? Fleeing through lava tubes on a planet thirty light-years from Solar System? Pursued by twenty-second-century space cannibals who are going to save the universe by dismembering and eating people? All the while knowing that if nothing in here kills us, we still have to survive virgin forest full of things that want to make a meal of us? What part of training did I miss?”
Muldare gave him a wry twist of the lips as she said, “Asshole.”
Aguila found the rope. He felt it whip as the woman clamped her feet on the first knot.
Talbot grinned to himself as the rope snapped back and forth in his grip. Not that he needed to worry about Kalico. After the three of them had descended, no way the Supervisor wasn’t going to make it to the bottom. Didn’t matter that her heart was going to be in her throat, Kalico Aguila was going to hit bottom looking like she’d never even broken a sweat.
And she did, almost stumbling for footing, as she stared around at the sloping tunnel.
“How far do you think?” she asked.
“No telling,” Talbot told her, taking the lead and feeling his way down the slope.
“Any of the rest of you as thirsty as I am?” Muldare asked.
“Dryer than the desert,” Dya agreed, seeming to pull courage from somewhere deep inside.
“Turn the light this way. PA should be scrambling. We’re way overdue.” Aguila held up her wrist monitor in the flash’s glow. “Shit. It’s been ten hours since we started down this tunnel. How far does this go?”
That’s when Muldare said, “Maybe you haven’t been noticing, but as the bearer of the light, I have. Eyes adjust to illumination so it’s hard to keep track. When we started, my beam was good for close to a hundred meters of tunnel. Now we’re down to maybe thirty. My advice, people, is that we make time while we’ve still got light.”
Talbot glanced at the beam. Realized it didn’t hurt his eyes as badly.
“Yep. Move it. Muldare, you’re right behind me lighting my way. Supervisor, Dya, you stay hard on her heels. Let’s go.”
And he hurried down the sloping surface.
Problem was, he had to have Muldare’s light tucked close behind him. He dared not step into a shadow—since on more than one occasion it was a hole that dropped away into unknown depths. Nor did he trust the occasional huge invertebrate that skittered from their path. The things were supposed to be bug-sized, right? So what was with the big ones—the size of lobsters—that fled this way and that? The things looked lethal with barbs, claws, and spikes sticking out of their bodies.
Anyone who’d lived on Donovan knew that when it came to critters, anything that looked like a weapon was. They also knew that while Donovanian wildlife was deadly to humans, in many cases, a person’s only safety lay in the fact that said wildlife had never seen a human before, and usually didn’t know they were edible.
But if so much as one of the big bugs figured that out?
As the light began to dwindle, Talbot had to ask himself: Shit on a shoe, where’s the end of this thing?
With the others crowded close, he edged around a vertical stone column, scattering a chittering horde of clicking and scurrying creatures. Here the tube divided. So, which way?
“There!” Muldare pointed with the dying light.
A faint arrow was scratched in the basalt pointing to the left-hand tunnel.
“At least it’s not an A.S.,” Muldare noted.
“A what?” Dya asked.
“Arne Saknussemm.” Muldare glanced back and forth. “Didn’t any of you read Jules Verne?”
“Who?” Aguila asked.
Talbot hurried into the tube, stumbled, and almost fell headlong into a dark hole that dropped away on the left side of the cavern.
“Dya?” Talbot called as his heart tried to hammer its way out of his chest. “How you doing?”
“Okay, Mark.” But her voice was shaky, on the edge of panic.
“Supervisor?”
“You forget, Marine. I run a mine.” Aguila’s voice had a forced joviality. “I’m used to holes. And these don’t have explosives drilled into the rock at the end.”
Yeah, but you also have elevators that you can ride out into the sunlight.
Talbot shinnied past on the lip of the hole as Muldare’s fading light illuminated the way. Ahead, he could see nothing in the depths but an eternal blackness.
Under his breath, Talbot whispered, “Get me out of here, God, and I’ll live the rest of my life in the out of doors under an open sky.”
But the slanting tunnel just kept winding ever deeper into Donovan’s depth. They made their way, step by step, clambering over humps of rock, squeezing through tight spots, avoiding bottomless drops, for another three hours.
As the light flickered out, they found the end of the line: a door set into the basalt. Wouldn’t have been a problem, but the damn thing was locked.
From the outside.
And then Muldare’s beam went dead, leaving them in the pitch black.