Subterranean

from your face what you were thinking.'

She stared down at the dead mimi'swee hunter, a bullet hole in his chest. 'Who is it?'

Ben knelt down next to the dead man, placing his hand on his shoulder. 'No wonder I couldn't reach him. It's Nob'cobi.' Ben lifted his eyes to Harry. 'What happened?'

With tears threatening, Harry explained, 'I'd gone to check for survivors from the elevator explosion. The mimi'swee were left to guard the building. While I was away, Khalid and Linda returned.' He continued to relate how the crak'an attacked and how Khalid attempted to blow the place up as a final act before he died. 'The hunters were watching, waiting for the best time to intervene. When Jason grabbed the transmitter, Khalid tried to kill him. But Nob'cobi knocked the boy to the side and took the bullet instead.'

Ashley knelt next to Ben. 'He saved my boy's life.'

'Yes,' Harry said. 'Jason got a good knock on the head. Blacked out for a few seconds, but he's fine. Linda took him-'

'Mom!'

Ashley whirled to face the building. Jason stood in the blasted opening, a bandage wrapped over his forehead. 'Jason!'

She stood up and ran to him. They collapsed into each other's arms. 'Oh, honey, I'm so sorry.' She hugged him hard to her chest.

'I love you, Mom.'

She just held him, rocking him in her arms.

Ben pointed to the large carcass. 'I thought I had killed that bloody beast.'

'Apparently it had a hide as thick as yours,' Harry said.

Linda then stepped through the doorway, a smile on her face. Jason saw her and wiggled out of Ashley's arms. He wiped at his nose and straightened his bandage, obviously embarrassed at such a childish display of motherly attention.

Ashley smiled. Was he already that old?

Harry suddenly called out, 'Look!' He jabbed a finger toward the roof.

She stood up and joined the others, staring at where Harry pointed.

Lights, pirouetting downward.

In the feeble glow of a few remaining spotlights, ballooning parachutes drifted downward. As she watched, more and more chutes flared open from the top of the skeletal elevator shaft. The chutists each had a halogen light, which they waved to and fro as they descended. Within minutes there seemed to be hundreds of them, drifting in all directions to cover the entire base.

Like fireflies on a warm spring night.

'Who are they?' Jason asked.

'I believe that's the cavalry coming over the hill.' Harry said.

Ben snorted. 'About bloody time!'

EPILOGUE

Mount Erebus, Antarctica

BEN CRAWLED INTO BED, SIGHING. WHAT A DAY! HE snuggled next to Ashley. She moaned in her sleep and rolled onto her side. He placed his hand on her belly. She was already showing. Four months along, and not a sign that she was ready to cut back on her cultural study of the mimi'swee. Knowing her, she would wait until her water broke before finally putting pen and paper down.

He smiled in the darkness and lay back with an arm propping his head, staring at the ceiling. Alpha Base had almost been put back together again. The sonic repellents that Linda had developed were succeeding in keeping the crak'an away. Her team of biologists had also made another discovery: The erosion of the mimi'swee's ring of protective fungus had not been due to the imbalance of umbo and ohna, as Mo'amba had claimed, but rather to the introduction of and competition from a modern fungus, carried here by humans. So Sin'jari had been right after all-humans were to blame. At least indirectly.

Ben let out a rattling sigh and stretched, bone-tired. As heri'huti, his responsibilities with the tribe seemed endless. No wonder Mo'amba had wanted to pass the baton on to him. Still, in memory of the old man, he felt an obligation to carry on the position. At least until the tiny mimi'swee offspring gifted with heri'huti blood grew to maturity. Ben had overseen the hatching of the child, another of his duties. The child, who had been named Tu'shama by Mo'amba before his death, was a girl, the first female heri'huti of the tribe. Her gender had shocked the community, but Ben didn't care. Male or female, here was his replacement!

Ben wiggled deeper under the blankets. He really shouldn't complain. The job did have its perks. In his spare time, he could explore the vast trails of caverns. The hunters who traveled the dark paths showed him sights so wondrous that he sometimes thought he was dreaming.

Even if it was while collecting crak'an dung.

Ben closed his eyes. Morning would come too soon. He rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around Ashley's waist.

As he drifted into slumber, something touched his dreams. Weak and tentative. Someone calling to him.

He opened himself up, inviting, but the contact faded. Only a passing connection, like a warm breeze wafting across a cold cheek.

Then nothing.

Who?

Under his hand, he felt the baby move in Ashley's belly. And Ben remembered Mo'amba's words: 'Blood runs true.'

There are too many folks to thank for the production of this story. From Pesha Rubinstein, my literary agent, who saw some glimmer in the rough-cut draft; to Lyssa Keusch, my editor, who painstakingly polished this story into its current form; to my writing group, who arduously picked apart the plot and made it better (Chris Crowe, Dennis Grayson, Dave Meek, Jeffrey Moss, Jane O'Riva, Stephen and Judy Prey, Caroline Williams); and a special thanks to Carolyn McCray, for her support, criticism, love, and friendship.

And finally to two people for whom I must blame this all on: Thanks, Mom and Dad!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

James Rollins is the bestselling author of five previous novels: Subterranean, Excavation, Deep Fathom, Amazonia, and Ice Hunt. He has a doctorate in veterinary medicine and his own practice in Sacramento, California. An amateur spelunker and a certified scuba enthusiast, he can often be found either underground or underwater.

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