Amye would be doing her a favor if she brained her and took the Khonarigte. She actually wishes Kymberlynn would advise her. She has no idea what her sister would condone in order to handle the situation.
I won’t commit a second murderous act. The politician was indirectly causing millions to suffer under the Mokarran rule even if he wasn’t actually committing the acts himself. Not the same as facing a soldier on the battlefield. It is their job to kill you. This woman will attack. Stopping her would be pre-emptive. What if she had no intention to attack? There is no evidence she is plotting to harm. After examining what Amye knows of Scalterrian—which is next to nothing—maybe the species has a natural tendency to be helpful.
Amye scrawls her finger along the rock. She notes a divergence in the smooth edge to rough hard chiseled ridges. This tunnel was created by the rock hammers as an afterthought when the bored tunnel ended. The passageway drops in height, forcing Amye to slump as she steps. Even her shoulders soon become boxed in as the shaft becomes more of a rabbit burrow.
“I’m not going to be able to fit.”
More chitters.
The Scalterrian crawls on all fours. Amye considers turning back. The only logic in traveling down this tunnel is to mine minerals. Not an attack. She has to have some first to be worthy of attack.
Unless she plans to eat you, Kymberlynn’s thought resonates. Osirians are food for several species. Not truly delicacies, but the meat will do when other is scarce.
Amye scampers along her elbows to keep moving. The rocks are cold against her bare arms. The tunnel lacks the room to turn around. Two other aliens drag her through, jerking her to her feet. Before she breaks free of their grasps, the Scalterrian chitters excitedly and Amye spots a lit durasteel plate.
The aliens release her. She spots the jacking ports reflected in the light blasting on the metal. Amye recognizes what the metal wall represents. She wonders what the jackers think she’ll be able to do about it.
The chitters are interrupted by a single word: Escape.
It’s clearly a question. They must know what it is as well. They never knew they would get so lucky being thrown a mining colony brat, so why did they show her?
“It’s an ore sampling pod. The entrance is exposed to the vacuum of space. There’s no way to use it in an escape.”
“The asteroid has an atmosphere. Thin as it is,” the tubular alien on her left speaks.
“Not enough for me to breathe to get back to the entrance to the casino. And why show me anyway? I just got tossed in here.”
“You’re not a jacker.”
“You mean I’m not a burnout. I’ve my synapses intact.”
“We’re weaker because without being able to jack in to the network, the jacking port loses its charge.”
“It doesn’t run off your body energy?”
“Even if it did, they don’t feed us well. You want a good meal. You have to give up some Khonarigte. It needs an outside power charge, or it drains our natural electricity.”
“Some bootleg mining pod has no use in an escape?”
“Will it not have an atmospheric reserve? We take it and leave.”
“I doubt it is. You’ll lose integrity of the mine when you open this artificial air to the thin atmosphere, and who knows how long this thing’s been here. It may not have enough power to open the airlock door.”
“We have no other escape route.”
“Find the bore holes where they took core samples. There had to be enough Khonarigte for them to build the mine. There should be mineral there.”
“I found the bore holes. We dig back here to find the pod.”
“How long have you been down here? This would take months to dig out.” Amye understands she has to find a quick way out. Between these three they don’t have enough Khonarigte even if she killed them all and stole what they had. This sample core pod does not belong to the IMC, or she would know where an escape hatch in the forward section would be located. She would hate to direct them to dig and it not be there. The pod could contain a radio, and she could call the Dragon to come get her. No matter who built it, the drilling system should have a hatch, but they don’t always lead inside. Part of the ship must be sturdy since drilling weakens some rock.
Amye rubs dirt from the durasteel shell. “Any idea who manufactured this pod?”
“IMC,” the Scalterrian chitters. “Make all mining.”
“No. This was not an IMC mining operation.”
“How do you deduce?”
“This asteroid contained no life. They would have forgone the mine and just pulverized the rock, separating out the minerals they wanted.”
“What does it matter?”
“Most of these pods have a forward escape hatch. Location dependent on who manufactured them.”
“We wouldn’t need to breach the atmosphere.”
“See, you have useful talents even without your computer.” Amye rubs clean some markings. “Do you know this language?”
The tubed alien shakes his head.
The Scalterrian chitters.
“Do you understand her?” Because if not I’m going to bash her skull to stop the racket she thinks is language.
“Somewhat, if she keeps it slow. The words are upside down.” He shakes his head not able to understand anymore.
“Cal…Catherian…”
Caltherian Navigations. Amye shoves her out of the way, slamming the rock hammer into the stone above the pod. Gravel chunks rain to the floor. “I would put the emergency hatch near here. If there’s one.”
She swings until her arm gets tired. The other aliens take turns hacking away at the rock in shifts until what could be the seam of a hatch. Amye drags the point of the hammer into the grooves and clears away debris. She rubs her finger across it, finding foam reminiscent of airlock seals.
Her stomach twists with hunger during
