Doc sets me on my own feet and cracks a torch-tube. I’ve never been so glad to see chemicals mixing. Soon the ambient light bathes our faces in a sickly yellow-green glow.

“I’m afraid your tests will have to wait.”

Really? I thought you’d produce a pocket lab and cure me this minute. Somehow I manage not to snap at him. He’s the only thing standing between me and madness down here.

“Yeah, I gathered that. Where do these tunnels lead?”

“To the main bunker. It’s a honeycomb, and unless you know the way, you could wander for days and never find the way in.”

“I guess that’s the idea.” I fall behind him, keeping one hand on his shoulder. I don’t care if he thinks I’m touchy-feely, overly familiar, or just scared shitless. The latter is true, and he’s seen me melt down before.

“Exactly. This is our final fallback. They can reduce the compound to rubble, but they’ll never find us.” He sounds so calm at the prospect of living for an undisclosed period of time below ground.

The very idea makes me sweat. I can smell my fear, sour and sickly. My fingers trail along the sides of the tunnel as we move, puffs of powder drifting into the wan light. I fall quiet, listening to our footsteps scrape over the dry stone. Time slows, becomes impossible to measure.

Just Doc and me, surrounded by an island of night. I want to hide my face against his broad back. Instead I walk on, trying to think of this as a test. If I come out of it unscathed, I’ll be stronger.

At least there are no Morgut down here.

I don’t know how long we’ve been walking, but my throat aches. So I tug on his pack. “Do you have any water?”

“Of course. I should’ve offered. Let’s rest a moment.”

There isn’t room for us to relax, but I sink down onto the tunnel floor and take a long drink from the lukewarm water in his flask. He probably has paste, too, but I can’t face the thought of it, not yet. I’m simply not hungry enough.

If I was paying Jael, I would so fire him for leaving me with a pacifist to protect me. I hope he’s all right. Dina and Vel, too. I can’t think about March. My stomach wants to tie itself in knots over him, and I have to stay calm. It’d be far too easy to lose myself in the dark.

I squeeze my eyes shut to combat the panic boiling up in my throat. Steel bands tighten around my rib cage, making it hard to breathe. I swear the walls are getting closer together.

“Easy, Jax.” Doc tugs me to my feet. “We need to keep moving.”

So we do. More trudging. I’m just about to ask for a packet of that disgusting paste when the torch-tube flickers. Hope to Mary he has a replacement. I can’t walk in the dark. As it is, I’m barely hanging on. The solid rock above me registers as a tangible, menacing presence. Our tomb.

We come up against a dead end. Shit. Doc doesn’t know this honeycomb as well as he thought he did. We’re lost.

I can’t take this. I need the open sky. Need to see the stars and feel the wind on my face. I need to jump. This isn’t where I’m supposed to die.

“What now?” I ask finally. “We can’t stay holed up forever.”

“Guerilla war,” he tells me. “The monsters can’t serve the McCulloughs in here, nor will their killing machines. So they’ll come looking eventually. They can’t claim clan assets as long as either chieftain lives. When they make that mistake, we’ll kill them, one by one. Keri’s trained her men for tunnel fighting.”

“Won’t they just starve you out?”

In answer, he depresses a hidden button in the wall and the door to another world swings open.

* * *

CHAPTER 28

There’s an entire city hidden here.

Well, on second glance, it’s more of a scavenged, retrofitted, grungy underground settlement. The survivors have pitched tents and set up chemical heaters. Here and there, I see salvaged ship parts doing double duty as furniture. A couple of dirty-faced kids bounce on a broken nav chair.

They pause as we pass by, whispering. Then one of them calls, “Doc! The Dahlgren’s looking for you.”

He nods. “I’ll find her. Thanks.”

I’ll never get used to the way her clan refers to Keri. My breath comes easier as I register a ceiling so high I can’t even see it. I’ll never take the open sky for granted again, though. Ambient noise gives the space a low roar, part people, part machinery, and the air smells faintly of spices, like someone is cooking.

The kids giggle and whisper a little more, and then: “So is Rose!”

“She’s alive?” he breathes. “She made it! Where?”

They point. To my surprise, Doc alters course, practicallyrunning. March better be down here somewhere, or I’ll never forgive him. Or myself.

I’m not Psi, so this is probably pointless, but I build his face in my mind’s eye, feature by feature, and focus on him. All my fear, yearning, and need, I bundle up and send outward, hoping he’ll sense it.

Silence answers me.

Shoulders slumped, I follow Doc through the throng. Everyone looks tired, worn. In the far corner, they’ve set up an infirmary, rows of bodies on blankets. Blood. The tang of antiseptic. It’s all so astonishingly primitive that I can’t believe people choose to live like this. But folks do crazy things in the name of freedom.

Naturally, Doc heads straight over. Two Dahlgrens are trying to patch up the wounded, administer treatments and medicine. A weary-looking woman with a sweet face, capped by red-and-silver-streaked hair, greets him with a kiss. Not a polite one either. She melts against him in a way that makes me look away, a private moment flaunted. I guess I know now what keeps him on Lachion.

“This is Rose,” Doc says, drawing my eyes back.

I manage a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Her tone is cool, and I sense she wants to be rid of me.

Doc adds, “She could use my help here, but I’m sure you want to find the rest of the crew as soon as possible.”

Nodding, I leave my fear unspoken. “Thanks for seeing me through the tunnel.”

I part from him there and thread my way through the camp, searching through the smoky, intermittent light. In here it feels like perpetual twilight, faces emerging out of the shadows to peer at me, startled and curious. All strangers, all clansmen.

I find Vel first. He sits apart from everyone else, of course, watching them eat. I hurry toward him, remembering not to hug just before I grab him. That leaves me standing there, not knowing what to do with my hands.

He gets to his feet in a motion that doesn’t entirely ring true as human, now that I know what to look for. To my surprise, he does the hugging, awkward and tentative, like a dance step he isn’t sure he’s mastered. And he doesn’t have it quite right either. His hands cup the back of my head, smoothing my shorn hair as if I’m a baby bird with ruffled feathers.

It’s oddly comforting. Even though I know what he is under the skin, it doesn’t matter. In fact, I register awe at his versatility; the ability to assimilate new customs seems enviable.

“Our situation is less than ideal,” he says, when I finally step back.

I have to smile. Typical Velith statement. He probably thought it a “trifle inconvenient” when we were holed up in a cave on the Teresengi Basin.

“You can say that again.”

He cocks his head at me. “Why?”

Right, he tends to be literal. “Never mind. Have you seen the others?”

“No. I made one sweep before settling here. Are you hungry?”

I am, actually. “Is it real food?”

“S-meat with potatoes and peppers,” he answers. “You’ll want to eat something. They’re closing up in a few minutes.”

That decides the matter. I take a bowl and get in line behind the other stragglers. Short and gristly, the woman scraping food from the grill looks a little like Keri’s grandmother, the clan matriarch who sacrificed herself for us. She narrows her eyes on me.

“In case you don’t know how this works,” she snaps at me, “that bowl is yours now, Ambassador.” Her tone gains an ugly stress. “Keep up with it, and keep it clean, or you don’t eat. You’re just like everyone else down here.”

For Mary’s sake. I’m steaming by the time I rejoin Vel in the far corner. They act like I’ve put on airs and demanded all kinds of special treatment when in fact we’d barely landed before all hell broke loose.

As I sit, I realize I have no utensils, so I take a quick look around to see what everyone else is doing. They use their fingers to scoop the food into their mouths, which seems basic enough. It’s messy, but practical.

“What was it like out there, Vel?” I have to know. My imagination will create a thousand terrible scenarios to torment me otherwise. “I was in the lab with Doc.”

He steeples his hands in a familiar gesture that tells me he’s thinking the question over. “Bad,” he says finally. “Those creatures swarm, as if from a hive mind. When the bombardment started, I thought the buildings would break wide open and the beasts would devour us. I am more than a little amazed to be alive.” His stark, quiet tone makes it worse somehow.

A shudder runs through me. I don’t ask anything more, not while I’m eating. I’m not sure I can hear more, not until I know whether we all made it. When I finish, I watch the others scrape their bowls clean with dry granules, but I don’t have any. I hate being unprepared. Vel tips some into my bowl wordlessly, and I smile my thanks.

Gotta love his bounty-hunter travel pack. I should get one.

I feel a little better now, slightly stronger. “I’m going to look for the rest of the crew. They must be around here somewhere.”

The alternative is unthinkable.

He regards me for a moment with an inscrutable expression. “Have you applied for a place to sleep?”

“What? No. Do I need to talk to someone about that?”

Leaning around me, he points to another line fifty meters away. “Lex is handling that.”

I can’t miss him. Lex is a mountain of a man with big, rough features; he also happens to be Keri’s co-chieftain. If she ever gets over hating him, they’ll wed to seal the deal. She doesn’t seem likely to do that anytime soon with March on scene.

“Have you already arranged for . . . accommodation?” A kind euphemism for the shantytown we have going down here.

Vel pats his pack. “I have everything I need.”

Well, of course he does. “You want to come with me?”

“It seems pointless to waste energy moving about when that might make it more difficult for the others to find me.”

That makes sense, but I don’t know if I can sit and wait. Patience isn’t one of my well-developed virtues. “Vel . . . is there room with you? If I ask Lex, I’ll end up sharing space with the clansmen.”

If what Doc said is true, the McCulloughs went full throttle because they were afraid I was intervening on the side of Gunnar-Dahlgren, bringing supplies or reinforcements. I don’t want to guilt him, though, so I leave the crucial part unspoken: And they aren’t too happy with me right now. Since it was just a personal visit, serving a dual purpose, and I didn’t bring anything but trouble, it’s safe to say Gunnar-Dahlgren wishes me to perdition.