Ryann led them along tunnels that, to Cathal, seemed too smooth. And the roof was too low. He would have preferred the larger passage, but even then he knew he wouldn’t feel settled. He didn’t like the thought of having so much rock over his head, just waiting to come down.
If it happened, he hoped it would be quick. Better a sudden, final blow to the head than a drawn-out death in a sealed tomb.
<I’m getting something,> Ryann sussed. Meaning she was willing to talk about what she already had.
<Go on.>
<Not sure what it is, but definitely animal. It’s come this way.>
<We following it?>
<We’re following one of its routes. I can’t say when it passed, though.>
Cathal almost asked if she meant ‘won’t’ instead of ‘can’t’. Instead, he sussed, <Suggestions?>
<You wanted data. It’s something new. Maybe we track it.>
That was too vague, even for Ryann. And she was choosing her words with too much care.
<Sounds good. Follow the trail, Ryann.>
The newbies were oblivious to this, and Cathal watched them trudge along, scanning to the left and right. Only Brice looked up, he noticed. Seemed to be a little unsteady when he did so, but at least the lad was keeping his wits about him.
Not that there was much to see, even with night-vision filters. Ryann pushed through the black, and it was like the darkness opened for them, only to close up behind Cathal. He saw it enveloping them, like some malignancy. They were a bubble in the depths, only surviving because nature let them. And nature was ever-fickle.
Oh, hell—he was getting all fancy. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He’d put all that garbage behind him. Facts—that was what mattered. Leave the poetry to the old and the weak.
The rock was further from his head now. And the tunnel became a long, narrow chamber. There was a narrow ledge some five metres up, and Cathal saw dark patches that he was certain were holes. How far back they went, he couldn’t say.
<This place look strange to anyone?> he sussed, wide. The familiar dryness in his mouth told him something wasn’t right.
Ryann slowed her pace, following his implied instruction.
<Interesting,> she sussed, in the tone of someone who had far more to add. But she said no more.
<That ledge looks too even,> Keelin sussed, and Cathal saw Tris nod in agreement.
<Those more tunnels up there?> Tris asked.
<Let’s check this out.>
The tunnel was about five metres across now, and the crew spread out, then formed a circle. At least they’d all paid attention to his training.
<Okay. We take a couple of minutes. Investigate, analyse, then report. No need to move.>
They started to scan. He’d trained them well, even though they were rough round the edges. But what could you expect after a few months? The last crew, he’d held together for over a year.
But now wasn’t the time to think of that.
He ran his own hand over the rock—undulating and grainy, like it had been filed down, and not simply water-eroded. Yet above the ledge Cathal saw cracks and bulges, the kind of thing he’d expect from rock. And the roof, way over their heads, was far from smooth.
Cathal didn’t know the exact make-up of this rock, but if there were stalactites, shouldn’t there be corresponding stalagmites? As water dripped from above, it must land. Yet the ground was as smooth as the lower part of the wall.
It wasn’t natural. It couldn’t be.
He focused on the ledge, then glanced across to the opposite wall. There was a matching ledge, with more holes. And higher up, a second ledge, only that one was more ragged, or maybe it was less manufactured.
<Think we might have company.>
Ryann’s voice was a sharp whisper, and Cathal instantly dropped his stance, knees bent and legs ready. One hand rested near his lash, although he knew he wouldn’t draw it. Not yet.
<Where?>
The others copied his stance, although only Brice fell into it naturally. The lad’s head moved slowly, whereas the others jerked one way then another, and their eyes were too wide.
<Up on the ledge, some twenty metres back. I think…I think it’s been following us.>
No, Cathal thought. You don’t think, you know. You’ve been tracking it.
She should have mentioned it earlier.
He looked behind, pulling up filters. But he caught nothing.
<Which side?>
<Our left as we walked in.>
He still couldn’t see anything. Whatever Ryann had sensed must be hiding. Unless she was mistaken. But Cathal didn’t believe that.
<A warth?>
<Tris, when we return to Haven, remind me to put you back in the remedial program. You see any trees down here?>
It was wrong to snap, but goddamn that kid could be dense at times, especially for someone so bright.
But if it wasn’t a warth—which it wasn’t—what was it?
<What do we do?> sussed Ryann, privately.
<You say it’s been around for a while?>
<It’s hard to say. Maybe.>
That was too vague for comfort. <So it’s wary. That could be good.> Then he opened communication up wide. <We treat this like we treat the warths. No sudden movement, no threats. And let’s see if it is following us. Ryann, lead on.>
There was a slight hesitation before she nodded, turned, and walked slowly away. The others fell into line behind her, keeping to the dead centre of the path.
<Tell me everything,> he sussed to Ryann.
<Still there. Hasn’t moved. Oh, now it has. But not along the ledge.>
<Explain.>
<Sensed it at one of the holes, but now it’s at the next hole along.>
<Any sense of structure beyond the holes?>
<Can’t do rock. You know that.>
So it was up to inference and logic. The thing moved from hole to hole without using the ledge, which meant the holes were connected. Most feasible explanation—a second tunnel, running behind the ledge.
And, again, that couldn’t be natural. Especially not when the holes seemed too evenly spaced. Like observation posts, or some strange theatre.
<It’s jumped.>
What did she mean by that? <Explain.>
<It’s on our right now.>
<Not a different
