Song of Scarabaeus (25 page)

There was a pause as Cat considered the order. Clearly, she'd rather come for Zeke first, but there was more chance
of success with Haller and two more men helping in that operation.

“Fine, sir. I'll check in with Captain Rackham. Stand by, Finn.”

“I'll be here.” Finn flicked off the comm with a humorless grin. He climbed back over to the area where he'd set up the lamps, and gathered the salvaged equipment together.

“Why pretend I'm dead?” Edie called after him, struggling to keep up. “If they thought I was alive, they'd race back here to save me.”

“No, they'd tell you to fix that shielding on the BRAT and complete the mission, what's left of it. If the cypherteck is dead, the mission is over. Home time. Much as I want that paycheck, I won't die for it.”

“They wouldn't make me do that, not now that it's clear the rads were here. It's too dangerous.”

Finn gave her an exasperated look. “There were no rads, Edie. Rads kill the cypherteck. That flash bomb was designed to wipe out an entire team.”

Her breath caught as the truth of his words sank in. “Then it
was
someone on the crew. Cat, Haller, Rackham, the two engies…who?” As rovers these people had been through a lot together. She didn't want to believe they'd betray each other.

“Don't forget the cook,” Finn added. He couldn't be serious—Gia didn't have the resources for something like this. “Or the kid. I guess Cat and Haller are off the hook, assuming they really do stick around to rescue us.”

“That's why you told them Zeke was alive—so they'd come back for him.”

Finn gave a harsh laugh. “You think they'd come back just for me?”

By the time Cat called back a few minutes later, after consulting with Rackham, Finn's comm was dead. He answered using Edie's, only to find that Cat had more bad news.

“Just tried to take off—but I'm not going anywhere for a while. My flight stabilizers are shot.”

“How the hell did that happen?” Haller barked.

Edie and Finn exchanged a look and Edie mouthed the word
sabotage
?

“I have no idea, sir.” Cat's despondency sounded genuine, but it might be an act. “Controls felt a bit weird when I landed on the island after dropping off your team, and then they burned out when I fired up the engines again just now.”

“Call Corky,” Haller said. “Tell him to come down in the other skiff to help with repairs.”

“Already did that. This is going to take a while,” Cat said. “Finn, head due north from the BRAT. If we get there before you make it out, Haller and the serfs can start cutting in from the other direction.”

“Understood.” The comm crackled. Finn checked the power and shook his head in dismay.

“We won't leave…won't…without Zeke.” Cat's transmission broke up and faded out altogether.

“You think she's telling the truth?” Finn gave the comm-clip a little shake, as though it had trapped Cat's last few words.

Edie remembered Cat's claim that she'd tried to help them escape by sending a flight plan to the skiff. “Yes, I think so.”

They didn't speak aloud the fear that the traitor on the
Hoi
would try again. For now, there was nothing they could do but get out of the jungle.

Edie packed up the salvaged shield batteries and anything else that looked useful—there wasn't much left. She strapped on Zeke's spur, hoping she'd remember the firearms lessons Lukas had given her, if it came to that.

Finn shrugged on his backpack. “You set?”

Edie was aware of the creature a split second before he was, saw the pale shape scuttling through the overhead branches. Finn sensed it, looking up just as it flung itself onto his chest trailing a milky white thread.

Edie automatically raised her arm and the spur slid into position. Her thumb hovered over the trigger. But the creature was already falling off Finn, zapped by the shield. Its lightning-fast movement had given her a false impression of its size. It was no bigger than Finn's boot, beside which it now dangled motionless, its multiple legs curled up underneath its flattened carapace, suspended from a thread anchored overhead. It looked like an overgrown slater.

“What were you gonna do, shoot me in the chest?” Finn yelled.

Edie lowered the spur, surprised by his anger, and realized how stupid her reaction had been. The shields protected them from any creepy crawlies this place could throw at them, but set on low they couldn't deflect projectiles from a spur. She might have killed him.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

He scowled, grabbing one of the lamps as he moved past her. “Probably one of those friendly bunnies you told me about.”

“I never said anything about bunnies. That was your idea.”

They'd taken a few paces across the clearing when a very human groan stopped them in their tracks. Edie whipped out her diagnostic rod and scanned for e-shields in the vicinity.

“To our right.”

It was Kristos. From the readout, his shield appeared to be intact. They found him tangled up in debris some way back from the rest.

Edie cut through the vines with her shiv and pulled him clear. “You okay? Were you knocked out?”

“I think so.” Kristos staggered to his feet. He looked over his limbs and seemed satisfied he wasn't injured.

Edie saw his e-shield crackle on a stray leaf. “You didn't turn your shield down.”

Kristos blushed defiantly, and Finn laughed at him. “You got lucky, kid. But check your power meter.” While Kristos's face turned from shame to horror, Finn explained. “The blast damaged the batteries. Turn your shield down now or you'll never last long enough to get lucky again.” He turned away, ready to move on.

“We should still check for concussion,” Edie told Finn. He carried the medkit in his pack.

Finn relented. He shone his penlight in Kristos's eyes. “You remember what just happened?” he asked gruffly.

“There was a bomb or something…”

“You feel dizzy?”

“No, I'm okay. Where's everyone else?”

“Cat's having engine trouble. She'll fetch Haller's team and then come for us,” Edie explained. “The others are dead.”

The young op-teck's ruddy face went white and his eyes teared up. She pitied him—his only two runs with the
Hoi Polloi
had both ended in tragedy.

Finn returned the light to his belt. “Got a headache? Weakness in your arms or legs?”

Kristos shook his head numbly.

“If you throw up or fall down, let me know.” He turned to Edie. “He's not concussed. Come on, let's get out of here.”

Edie shook her head at the good doctor's perfunctory examination, but he was right—they had limited juice in their shields and they had to move. She helped Kristos get his pack sorted out and followed Finn into the clearing. From there they set off due north.

At point position, Finn had to work the hardest to clear a path. They avoided the low-hanging vines because it was impossible to hack through them—ever since the explosion, they took to quickly closing over wherever they were damaged. The rest of the vegetation was less dense, but much of it was too thick to cut even with a water torch, and they had to climb over it. Then the water torch ran dry and they used shivs. The ground was uneven, thick with prickly undergrowth and punctuated with slippery boulders. Edie's mind automatically categorized each new lifeform it registered—mosses, ferns, arthropods, worms. Only a few meters into the thick of the jungle, and despite the low light levels, she'd already counted dozens of species. Each one was unlike anything she'd seen before, but was recognizable within broad categories. And each one, she knew, was unlike what it had been seven years ago. Every living thing on Scarabaeus had been transformed at the genetic level as the BRATs controlling the ecosystem beat to their own strange drum.

Finn looked back frequently, checking their progress. Perhaps he thought Kristos's survival meant they shouldn't rule him out as the traitor. Edie was more concerned with Kristos's emotional health. Kristos ploughed on in subdued silence.

The jungle was a cocoon of indistinct shadowy shapes lit by broken rays. They'd been on Scarabaeus for five hours, and it was mid-afternoon. Finn climbed a large, craggy boulder almost as tall as he was, and leaned down to help Kristos and Edie up. On top of the boulder, Kristos put his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

“How much farther?”

“Kid, this is going to take all day,” Finn said. “If you're not up to it, don't bother tagging along.”

Kristos looked up with a flash of anger. He wasn't used to being spoken to like that by a serf.

Edie put her hand on Kristos's arm before he said something stupid. “We'll make it out of here. A few hours, okay?”

The other side of the boulder was a sharp drop. Finn jumped off, losing his footing momentarily in the soft mesh of plant material on the ground. He staggered a couple of paces, as if the ground had shifted underneath him, before regaining his balance.

Kristos was already following him.

“Wait!”

Edie reacted instinctively to Finn's shout, dropping to her knees and grabbing for Kristos's jacket as he went over the edge, but she missed. She peered over the boulder. Kristos had landed in the spongy patch of dark undergrowth. It was littered with what looked like crushed and broken exoskeletons.

“My boots are stuck!” he called out.

“Grab my hand.” She reached down as far as she could. Preoccupied with pulling his feet out of the sticky bed, Kristos didn't look up.

The ground shifted again, forcing Finn to back up against the ferny vegetation of the jungle. Kristos lost his balance and landed on his backside.

A long thick pad snapped across Kristos's body, then two more. They curled in on him like fingers closing into a fist. Edie realized they had unfurled from the edges of the marshy area where Kristos was stuck. The fingers twisted from the base like a corkscrew, tightening into a massive, fleshy tuber that swallowed up Kristos's body with more speed than any plant should have been capable of.

Finn reacted instantly. Leaping forward, he grabbed the edge of one pad and pulled until it separated from the adjacent one, and plunged his arm inside.

“Stay there,” he yelled at Edie as she moved to climb down.

As Finn grappled with the tuber that enclosed Kristos, she
noticed a row of pale markings along the edges of the fingers. Photosensitive pits. The tuber, despite looking more plant than animal, had eyespots similar to those of primitive invertebrates. From their crude structure she guessed they could differentiate light from dark and probably even the direction of light rays.

Finn grabbed his shiv with his free hand, but it had little effect on the fibrous plant. A strangled cry came from within the tuber as the fingers tightened further, and the entire structure slowly twisted and tightened.

Edie couldn't just sit there and watch. She slid down the side of the boulder, keeping clear of the corkscrew fist, and joined Finn around the other side. She helped him pull on the fleshy pad to widen the gap he'd made. Finn braced himself against the ground to avoid being pulled inside as the plant inexorably drilled itself into the earth.

“Got him.” Finn's jaw clenched with the effort.

He had a good grip on Kristos's arm, and yanked hard. Edie caught a handful of Kristos's collar and did the same. The edges of the tuber's fingers peeled back to reveal a layer of inward-directed spines on the inside that worked against them, holding Kristos firm, although his shield protected him from being impaled. It sizzled against the spines as it resisted them.

The tuber had wound itself halfway into the ground, forcing Finn and Edie to their knees as they pulled without making much progress. There was a terrible crunch as bones broke.

“Kristos! Turn up your shield.”

His head bobbed against his chest. Edie thought he'd passed out, but then he raised his chin, eyes wide with terror. She yelled at him again, urging him into action. One hand came up and gripped the edge of the tuber, as if he might try to pull himself out, but his weak effort made no difference. His other arm was still trapped.

Edie reached down the side of Kristos's hip, now below
ground level, and searched blindly for the shield generator on his belt, feeling the tug of the tuber as it sucked at her arm.

“Stay clear,” Finn shouted, doing his best to keep a hold on Kristos's arm.

“We need to crank up his shield.”

Another crunch as Kristos's lower body was crushed. He was no longer moving at all.

“Get back!”

She ignored Finn, frantically grabbing at Kristos's belt, her arm sinking up to the elbow. The force of the twisting motion was incredible, and she wasn't sure her shield could protect her bones for very long. A sudden jerk pitched her forward and her arm slipped deep inside the tuber. She struggled to keep her head free. Pain shot through her arm as it was slowly forced to bend the wrong way at the elbow joint. She could barely gasp a moan of agony.

Finn released Kristos, who disappeared into the clutches of the tuber. His strong hands closed around her shoulder and he tried to lever her arm free.

“You have to grab Kristos,” she gasped. “It's crushing him. Grab him!”

As Finn pulled hard on her arm, Edie cried out—in frustration more than anything. She should have known Finn wouldn't waste time with someone else when she was in danger. His priority was her life, because her life was his life.

And her life was in danger now. The tuber was not giving her up. She didn't know how deep it would drill into the ground, but if it didn't let go she'd be buried alive.

The strength of Finn's body pulling against the plant suddenly deserted her. He stepped back and hauled his rifle into position.

“Don't move.”

He fired twice into what remained of the tuber above ground, angling his aim to avoid hitting Edie.

The rounds exploded with waterlogged pops, and sap spurted from the tuber. Edie felt an immediate relaxing on
the twist of the fingers, and her arm came free. Before Finn had time to object, she plunged both arms back inside, desperate to take advantage of the damage that had been done to the corkscrew. It must rely on water pressure to maintain turgidity, because as the sap leaked out its grip grew weaker and weaker.

She felt Kristos's limp body and grabbed handfuls of his clothing. The lack of resistance as she touched him told her his shield had burned out under the pressure. The tuber fingers wilted and she was able to pull him halfway out.

“Finn, help me.”

Finn stared into the jungle, his rifle slung, and Edie followed his gaze. There was a ripple within the ferns. The tangled mass of vegetation coiled itself up, as though waiting to strike.

Then it pounced. Not an animal, surely, though it moved like one. The tip leapt out like a whiptail, striking a blow to Finn's shoulder, hard enough to make him stagger. His shield sizzled and absorbed most of the impact, but the reedy stalk, as thick as his arm, held fast around his neck. Its inertia dragged him to his knees. The shield kept the pressure off his windpipe, and he was able to twist and fire into the thing with his spur.

Edie fired into the undergrowth an instant later. The whiptail retracted quickly, thumping along the ground like a wounded snake.

A squeal came from the undergrowth. All around them the jungle rustled. Edie cranked up her shield a notch, seeing Finn do the same. He made a quick turn, full-circle, warily taking in their surrounds. They were cocooned on all sides, and above, by the close jungle, with no room to run and nowhere to hide.