“Are we clear?” Zevi asked Vestus.
In answer the man took a small device from his pocket. The scientists in Bio had once used surveillance cams to observe their experiments, and Zevi’s people put it to good use, bugging the entire route. The group waited while Vestus gathered data and studied it. If a human being had so much as sneezed in these corridors after scouts had passed through, Vestus would know it.
“Nothing,” he said a last, a hint of triumph in his voice. “No one’s been here but us.”
Good news was a rare commodity on Shenshido, and a couple of people smiled in relief, but it was clear from the expressions of others that they were skeptical. Hands remained poised over weapons while eyes scanned the corridor nervously, ahead and behind.
“All right,” Zevi said. “Let’s move out.”
* * *
The tunnels Micah had to crawl through were narrow, irregular, and difficult. That was because they were not tunnels at all—at least not in their original intention—but random spaces between pipes and ducts and conduits and junction boxes, some barely large enough for a person to squeeze through. They connected to form a twisting pathway, more like an organic cavern than a maintenance corridor. It even had the claustrophobic effect of a cavern, invoking awareness of the station’s great mass pressing in from all sides. Normally such a space would only be accessed in mechanical emergencies, so the entrance points were few and far between, but Serjit and his crew had cut through the back wall of a storage room for their initial access, and now and then Micah saw another place on the right-hand wall where someone had cut—and then resealed—a crude doorway. But the parts of their route that were completely enclosed felt suffocating.
They had put Micah near the back of the line, supposedly to keep him out of the fighting, but not in the last position. Was that to protect him from a possible rear assault, or because they didn’t trust him? Micah found it hard to believe that anyone would try to attack them in a cramped space like this, but humans in extreme circumstances sometimes did irrational things. He was glad to have a few people behind him.
They came to an opening large enough for several people to fit into, a makeshift room where several people broke off from the group.
Micah’s heartbeat quickened. They must be approaching the place the exos intended to raid, and were preparing for battle. He felt a tremor of fear at the thought, but also a sense of excitement. Who had ever imagined he would be able to witness something like this firsthand, instead of just imagining it from his work console? There was part of him that wanted to witness a real battle, he was discovering—learn what it looked like, sounded like, smelled like. And that part disturbed him.
People are going to die today, he reminded himself. For real.
There were more of the rooms now, and people remained behind in each. Finally Micah was ushered into a staging space with four other people, three men and one woman, and told to wait. They were the last group to be positioned. Armageddon was on the horizon.
Minutes passed with agonizing slowness. The only sound was the hum of the station’s environmental systems. Micah turned to the woman next to him. “How much longer, do you think?”
The woman looked at Micah. Dark, nameless emotions stirred in the depths of her eyes, along with one that he recognized: hate.
“However long it takes them to get here,” she whispered.
* * *
The narrow corridors of level B required Ru’s company to string out single file, a human serpent whose tail was not visible from its head. Whenever they passed the door to a room the serpent would pause, and Vestus would do a quick sweep of the interior with an infrared detector. That was to find any crazies who might be lying in wait, ready to fall upon the party’s flank. Now and then his device detected a minor anomaly, and he had to search out the source. When it proved to be harmless he set the orange warning light on his device back to green, and held the device aloft so that everyone could see it. Or at least the people who were close by that spot could see it. The tail of the serpent had to go on faith.
Soon they neared the part of the station where their target was located, within a small complex that had once been contracted to Apollo Industries. Apparently Apollo hadn’t trusted Tridac to provide for everyone in an emergency and had established its own store of supplies, hidden away behind a bank of offices. The crazies apparently hadn’t discovered it yet, which meant it might still have food and valuable equipment in it.
Might.
The line kept moving slowly, bios holding their weapons tightly as they scanned the walls, floor, ceiling for threats. If the enemy was going to ambush them, it would likely be here, close to their target. One time Vestus’s detector flashed orange when a door opened, and Ru found herself holding her breath. But he scanned the room and seemed satisfied. “All good,” he said, holding his device aloft for everyone to see.
It was still orange.
The line started to move again. Confused, Ru backed up to the wall, letting the others pass. Something was still in that room, producing heat. Why wasn’t he trying to identify it? He had held up the device as if it would reassure people, when the orange warning light was still blinking. Why had they all accepted that gesture without protest? It made no sense.
Ivar fell into position beside her. Of course. If she wandered into the fires of Hell, Ivar would be by her side. “Problem?” he asked.
The last person in line was passing them by. “Something’s in there,” she murmured.
“Light was green. That means it’s clear.”
She looked at him sharply. “It was still orange.”
“I saw it turn green—”
“I saw it too,” she said testily. “I know what orange looks like. And it was still blinking. That means there’s a heat source somewhere in that room that Vestus didn’t find. I don’t know why everyone left, but I want to see for myself.” I’m not crazy! she thought defiantly. But an inner voice whispered: Maybe I am. Or maybe everyone in this whole fucking place is crazy, except me.
“It’s dangerous to be alone on this level,” he reminded her.
“I’m not alone.” She smiled. “I’ve got you.”
The line had passed them, and the curving corridor would soon take the entire serpent out of their sightline. She headed across the hall quickly, weapon drawn, confident Ivar would follow. As she triggered the door she raised the bow-gun that Zevi had given her, bracing herself for whatever might be inside. She wished she had her own pistol instead.
Beyond the opening was an office that looked like it had been abandoned in the middle of moving. Plastic cartons were strewn all over the place, most of them empty, a few half-filled with innocuous office supplies. Ru walked around the room, inspecting it inch by inch, but saw nothing suspicious. Certainly nothing to explain the heat trace Vestus had detected. Ivar was working the far side of the room. She glanced his way and saw a faint vertical line on the wall just ahead of him. “What is that?”