"We'll get him back. Maybe there's something we can do to revive him," Greg suggested.
Adena sniffed then nodded. "We owe him that much. It won't be easy, but we'll try."
They stood, arms around each other, and stared into the void.
Chapter 13
"We've got to save him." Adena strode down the tunnel toward the airship wharf, her lantern creating a golden nimbus around her and Greg.
Greg followed, his ears still ringing from the violence of their encounter with the silver alien. The stump of his right forearm tingled although it no longer hurt, and he favored it, cradling it with his other hand against chance knocks and blows. "Adena, seriously — will there be anything left of Mr. Phibuli? What's at the bottom of that huge hole? If it's rock, he'll be smashed to pieces."
She shook her head with impatience. "It's not rock. If my memory serves there's a deep pool of water, deep enough for him to survive the plunge."
"How far down is it?"
"About a mile."
"Well, crud."
"He'll be all right."
Greg couldn't detect any trace of doubt in her voice. If Adena had doubts and fears, she hid them well.
He looked at the bandages on his forearm. "I wish I could help, but I don't know how much use I'll be with this. Mr. Phibuli did something to it, and it doesn't hurt, but a one-armed man won't get you very far."
She barely glanced at his wound. "You'll be fine in a day or so."
He squinted at her. "You're implying my arm will grow back?"
She shrugged. "I've known Mr. Phibuli to treat worse. You need to eat. Your body will need the resources to heal."
Greg couldn't get his mind around such a concept as regeneration. His engineering training took over, guiding his thoughts to practical matters. "If he's in water, can we get to him? I've snorkeled in Florida, but this will take a whole different approach."
Adena glanced at him. "I've no idea what snorkeled is, or of this Florida you speak of, but we can and will rescue him. Mr. Phibuli might be alive, he might not, but we must try." Her dark eyes searched his face. "Are you with me, or not?"
"With. That much is a given. How do we get down though? Is there a way into that abyss?"
"There is, but we'll need help. No one's been to those lower levels for decades." She paused, a telling moment in Greg's mind. "It could be dangerous."
"Then count me in. I owe that fool parrot my life as much as you do."
Adena cracked a smile. Greg smiled back, pleased to see his friend — and, in future, maybe more than a friend — looking better.
They reached the wharf. The airship Oculus Nightingale hung suspended from her moorings, her gondola's lights creating a pool of welcome humanity after their bruising experience. Two of her crew stood guard at the brow leading up to the entryway. Their shouts brought First Officer Jake Dyer to the door. He leaned out with both hands on the door frame and peered at Adena and Greg as they emerged from the gloom of the tunnel.
"Captain? Greg?"
Adena headed up the gangplank. "As you were, Mr. Dyer. We've lost Mr. Phibuli, but we're going to get him back."
Jake blinked in reaction to her news, then looked beyond Greg to the opening of the tunnel that led to the heart of the mesa. "What of that thing?"
"It's dead. Mr. Phibuli killed it, but he fell into the abyss."
"Well, he’s a tough old bird," Jake said, nodding to Greg as he followed Adena into the gondola.
"Have you seen Zared?" she asked.
Jake's expression hardened. "No, Skipper. If I had I would've shot the guy."
"So, he's still out there." Adena glanced back through the door. "Let him freeze. Call in the sentries. There's no need for them to suffer the cold out there."
Jake called to the guards. They trotted up the gangplank and closed the door behind them. Greg sighed with relief as welcome warmth began to seep into his flesh after the prolonged chill of the caverns.
Adena led the way to the lounge, the biggest room on the ship, and sat down on the bench. She sighed and propped her booted feet up on the table. Greg and Jake took seats and waited for Adena to utter her thoughts. Conner emerged from the direction of the galley with a tray of tea things and sandwiches, which he passed around. Greg seized upon both with a grateful smile for the efficient steward. Conner nodded and smiled in return before slipping away.
She waited until Conner had departed before speaking. "Greg and I will head down into the depths to see if we can find and recover Mr. Phibuli. We'll need at least one other for the shore party."
"I volunteer, Skipper," Jake interjected.
Adena shook her head. "I appreciate it, Jake, but I can't spare you."
"You could let me go in your stead. Really, there's only one of you, and your job is to command the Nightingale." Jake shrugged. "I'm expendable."
She regarded him for a long moment before shaking her head. "No, Jake. Assemble the crew here and I'll ask for a volunteer. We have good people aboard. Although there's a couple I'd choose like a shot, I won't force anyone to go on this expedition. Please see to it."
He nodded, got up and left the lounge. Greg leaned back in his seat. "What do we face down there?"
Adena took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "There may be murriks. We had to clear out a nest of them when we first established this base."
Greg shuddered to think of the anthropomorphic winged black flying creatures that had attacked the airship as it flew over the City of Night. "I thought they only hung around the City."
She gave a quick shake of her head. "No such luck. They're all over Dark Side. They hate
