by J. N. Chaney
“It’s a question for another time,” I say. “Let’s find a way through this maze before the Prothean decides to come after us.”
7
Cold seeps through the soles of my boots, into my feet, into my bones. Wind isn’t a problem, not yet. Something carved these passages, after all. We could find ourselves in a wind tunnel from hell—a prospect I hadn’t considered until it was too late.
So far, we’re just miserably cold. Why borrow trouble from the future? “Normally, going underground is a good way to get out of the wind. It should be slightly warmer than on the surface, given the conditions.” I march my feet to warm them. Zedas and Shaina imitate the tactic. Garin looks like a rolled-up pile of coats and blankets on Zedas’s back.
We could be bugs with goggles and face masks peering out from our parka hoods. Coats, gloves, and other survival gear encumber each of us. “Check your packs for boot spikes. We need traction to continue this direction.”
“Good advice, Murph,” Shaina says, then fishes boot attachments out of Zedas’s pack. “Here you go, big guy. I’ll help you put them on, then you can hand me mine. I don’t want to sit on this ice to attach them.”
The Prothean calls again and again from another tunnel. “Axu! Wait for Axu!”
I listen but still can’t decide if I’m hearing him correctly. Each syllable sounds like it was forced through a bassoon. With no guide to Prothean language or culture, I can’t gauge his intent. Is he trying to help us or draw us into a trap?
“That is driving me mad,” Shaina says. “I wish he would shut up.”
Zedas stomps his feet, checking the boot attachments, then digs Shaina’s gear out for her.
“Thanks.” She stands on one leg, leaning on me for balance as she puts on the wicked looking spikes. When she’s done, she helps me with mine.
Zedas moves toward a side passage, listening to the Prothean wail. He squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and bellows a sound loud enough to shake ice from the walls.
Axu waits a long time, then mimics Zedas’s call.
“What did he say?” I ask.
“I used the oldest form of Dogan I know and told him to leave us alone. He just repeated my words,” Zedas says.
“Which suggests he doesn’t know what they mean,” I say. “Like we’re learning from scratch.”
“He knows your human words,” Shaina says. “Or didn’t you realize he wasn’t speaking Hadrian—not exactly.”
“No. I just thought his inflection was off.” I face the entrances to three tunnels. None of these are open on the top. Getting lost is virtually guaranteed if we continue, even with my Orphan maps and flawless sense of direction.
My own language sounds foreign. How far from home am I? Can I ever go back?
“Maybe you should negotiate,” Shaina says.
“And get eaten?” Garin interrupts. “No thanks.”
“We’re sticking to the plan. Find a way through the maze and circle back to the ship. Then we recover the engine, make repairs, and leave Axu and his buddies behind. I’m not going to negotiate with an advanced alien race until I know more about them.”
I pick a passage and go first, clicking on my flashlight to penetrate the darkness. The first step is the hardest. The passage slopes downward and to the left, twisting out of view. My boot spikes hold, but I have to lean back awkwardly to keep my balance. Keeping one hand on the wall allows cold to seep through my hand into my arm. It isn’t long until my teeth chatter.
I stop. Something’s wrong.
“What’s the problem?” Shaina asks. “That’s not a good place to take a break. If something attacks you, your footing is terrible and we can’t help you. It’s too narrow.”
“You’re right, but just give me a second.” I review everything I know about spelunking. Subterranean passages aren’t affected by the heating effect of solar radiation or windchill. I doubt we’re deep enough for any type of thermal effect, and I don’t even know if this world has the same magma forces as Earth. This nameless ice world could be far older and colder to its core.
“You’re making me nervous, Murph,” Shaina says.
Details come to the forefront, smaller passages caused by creatures rather than erosion. The deeper we move, the more I notice the difference. “We started out in canyons carved by the wind over years and years. But there is something alive down here, something burrowing and expanding the maze. And don’t ask me how, but I think it’s making this place even colder than it should be.”
Shaina’s response is cut off by another challenge from Axu. He sounds closer, maybe just around the bend and about to catch up.
It’s time to go. Odds are the biosphere won’t support extremely large creatures. I haven’t seen anything for a predator to hunt, and most of the holes in the walls are from small creatures, possibly insects.
The idea of half frozen bugs swarming over us doesn’t erase my dread. I haven’t forgotten our ordeal on Ulan.
“You must endeavor to move quickly,” Zedas says.
Garin peaks out from his coats and blankets. “Yeah, Mr. Murph. That thing is right behind us. I can hear its feet slipping and sliding.”
A ridiculous image of the Prothean sliding through the passages and taking us out like bowling pins almost makes me laugh, but I keep my laughter in check, knowing these small moments matter the most of all. Every decision is a chance to win a small victory, and small victories always add up to success.
The passage levels off and I pick up the pace. Completely underground now, there’s no light that we don’t carry with us. The evidence of creatures burrowing disappears for about twenty meters, then reappears again at ten times the frequency and size. The exterior of my coat stiffens and starts to flake away. Vapor clouds drift from some of the tunnels. The air is practically alive with cold.
“I don’t like the look of that,” Shaina says.
“Me neither, but I had assumed these holes were caused by animals or insects,” I say. “If it’s just gases venting, we should be okay, assuming we can breathe the air down here.”
“Do you think that will be a problem?” she asks.
I think back to the lunar dig site, and other ancient mines and tombs I have explored during my career. “It could be a big problem. Let’s keep moving and find our way back to the surface. Then back to the ship.”
“We’re right behind you,” she says.
Zedas grunts. “Yes, lead the way.”
The wider the passage becomes, the more quickly I press forward. Before long, we’re jogging down a tunnel large enough to drive a bulldozer through with room to spare. The holes in the walls are larger as well, and much more evenly spaced, like they’d been planned by a sentient creature.
“I hate this place,” Garin says. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here. I think we’re trespassing.”
I pretend not to hear him, because he’s right. The ice maze generates an aura of menace. We follow the wide, high ceiling passage as it curves on and on and on. Axu calls for us to wait. He sounds farther away, but not far enough. It’s only a matter of time before he catches us or we run into a dead-end.
“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” Shaina says, modifying her stride to accommodate the spiked footwear.
Zedas lifts each foot ridiculously high as he runs. Each foot fall turns up shards of ice. We’re leaving a path that anyone can follow.
The next turn veers to the right, then ascends sharply. Instinct tells me to slow down before we tumble to our deaths, but we really don’t have that option. We must find a way out of this place or fight a Prothean.
When we reach the main cavern, I see my mistake and stop so abruptly my friends bump into me. The creature is large as a house and looks like a crab—or more accurately, a malformed spider in a Godzilla movie. One by one, hundreds of eyes open up on its face, each aperture constricting against the pain our flashlights must be causing it. Smaller creatures vanish into their side tunnels.
&n
bsp; “Look on the bright side,” Shaina says. “It doesn’t seem like those little ones are going to swarm us.”
“Not yet,” I say. Spiders. Why are there so many spiders in the Goliath sector. I think of Van the smuggler and his Hwelas crew. I wish the arachnid-like humanoids were here instead. The cheerful little creatures are only mildly creepy.
“You’re optimistic,” she says.
“It has not attacked us,” Zedas says. “Perhaps we can go around it.”
“Follow me,” I say and then skirt the edge of the giant chamber, eyeing hundreds of small holes as we pass them. The crab-like spider thing turns to face us, watching our every move.
“We’re making good time,” I say. “With any luck, this will slow down our pursuer.”
“I’ll bring up the rear,” Shaina says. “Zedas is carrying the kid.”
“No, you are,” Zedas says, then grabs Garin with one hand and places him in her arms.
“That’s a dirty trick,” she says, then focuses her attention on the kid. “You’re heavier than you look.”
He drops to the ground and adjusts his layers of clothing. “I can walk. I’m not a baby. I just like riding on the big guy’s back.”
“You better be able to keep up,” she says.
“That’s enough talk, keep your eyes and ears open, and follow me,” I say, taking off at a brisk pace. Every five or ten strides I glance back to make sure they’re still with me. I can run a lot faster, but what would be the point if we get too spread out?
We are about two thirds around the chamber, still facing off with the spider as we move when Axu makes his entrance. From our position, he’s just a figure by the entrance, but he’s looking around, hands up and ready to fight, head turning right and left when he sees the denizen of this place.
The enormous creature spins to face the Prothean and everything changes. It rises up on all of its legs, twenty or thirty at least, and roars. Now that it’s angry, I see several rows of mandibles slashing the air. It starts stomping its pointed feet, darting forward and back.
“This could cause a collapse! We have to run for it,” I shout. Normally, the promise of our enemy getting eaten would be great news, but not if it gets us all killed when the ceiling comes down. Worse, I’m starting to worry there is no alternate exit. Why would there be? This thing burrowed down here and spends most of its time sleeping, most likely. Nothing that large can sustain prolonged activity without eating tons of nutrients, and I don’t see herds of prey animals or an all you can eat buffet. Maybe it consumes bacteria or the ice world version of plankton. I don’t have time for theories. Focusing on the task at hand, I realize part of my brain continues to noodle at the not very important detail of this world’s biosphere. That’s not an Orphan upgrade, not completely. That’s the way I’ve always been. Too curious for my own good.
Axu doesn’t show fear. He charges, attacking with an energy blade. I can’t see it, only the flash of light. A crackling sound competes with the thundering of the ice creature’s footsteps. The air is filled with the smell of burning ichor.
“Hey, Mr. Murph, can you find a way out of here soon?” Garin gasps.
“Working on it, kid.”
Shaina shouts a warning. “That star cursed monster is backing up. The Prothean is driving it toward us. We’re going to be crushed against the wall.”
The back of the monster is no less terrifying than the front. It has dozens of tails like a scorpion. One by one, they rise up, then lash over the top of the monster toward Axu. Even though I can’t see the Prothean, I infer that he’s not struck or intimidated. Because the fight continues and the giant creature presses us closer to the wall.
“Murph! We have to do something!” Shaina shouts. “It’s backing over us. I don’t want to die because a bug stepped on me!”
“Just keep running. There’s no going back.” I find a trail carved into the ice, going upward. I take it without hesitation. It isn’t long before we have company. Miniature versions of the creature flee ahead of us. Some of them stop to hiss, snap their mandibles, and slash with their tails.
I kick one out of the way. Others avoid me until we reach the top of the trail and the entrance to a passage we can navigate if we crouch low or crawl. Unfortunately, it’s packed with medium-size spider things. “I never thought the galaxy would be so full of arachnids.”
“No time for your phobias,” Shaina says, stepping past me. She draws her charge pistol and opens fire, clearing a way for us to escape. The cave dwellers screech and retreat. “There are religions that claim spiders once dominated the Goliath sector, that other races are the invaders.”
“Wait, what?” I want to pursue that but now isn’t the time.
Behind us, the queen, or whatever it is, makes a new sound, and I know we’re in trouble. This time when it slams down its legs, part of the ceiling collapses and bounces off its carapace. It whips around, turning its back on the Prothean, and rushes toward us.
It opens its mouth so wide I think I can see into its stomach, which is disturbing—a twisting, organic labyrinth full of eggs and slime. But that isn’t our real problem.
A tube extends from the center of its throat, aims across the cavern, and discharges vapor that freezes the air. The cone of death immobilizes everything it touches, including its own offspring. A bizarre pattern of ice grows across the wall where the beam hits.
“What was that?” Shaina demands, real fear in her voice perhaps for the first time.
“Liquid nitrogen, I think. Or maybe something worse, who knows? Don’t stop.” Crouching as low as I can, I run into the escape tunnel. “If this is a dead end, we’re done.”
Nobody argues. Garin comes second, running almost upright with a charge pistol in his hands. The weapon looks too big for him. Behind him comes Shaina and Zedas, who is crawling on his hands and knees, shoving his way through creepy crawlies of all sizes.
A blast of the ice vapor hits the entrance to our passageway. I move faster, fire burning through my quadriceps as I stoop lower and lower to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling. A trio of medium-sized monsters blocks my path. I shoot two, and Shaina shoots one, each round landing with a ripple splat.
We keep moving, always turning left when there’s more than one choice.
“This is going to lead us in a circle,” Garin says.
“But we won’t get lost. I’m making a map in my head. We can’t afford to make a mistake,” I say. “When I have the full picture, we can find a way to the surface.”
He rushes past me. “I’ll lead. You’re not very good at this part. You have to go with your instincts, like me.”
I lunge for him and miss. So does Shaina.
“Let the small one lead,” Zedas says. “We need to find the surface. I fear that part of me has been frozen by the spider’s liquid nitrogen beam. And these things are all over me.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, kid,” I shout, then attempt to catch up with the scrappy little dude.
We turn left two more times, then descend slightly. At the next intersection, Garin turns right without hesitation. He encounters a swarm of the spiderlings and leaps over them like an Olympic hurdler. I aim my pistol but second guess my decision to shoot everything I see. Following the kid’s example, I just kick a few out of the way and continue as quickly as possible.
Shaina follows suit. I lose sight of Zedas. He’s not that far back, but the passageway is full of twists and turns now.
“Z-man, are you okay?” I shout.
“Keep going, Murph man.” The Dogan’s voice is high-pitched, not something I’ve ever heard. “Is that how you say the bantering nonsense names?”
There’s no time to explain. We continue up, and up, and up. I see light for the first time and want to shout for joy when we enter the ice canyon proper. Garin leads us away from the last tunnel. Only then do I look back and see the strangest sight of the entire odyssey.
Zedas, covered from head to toe in spiderlings, stands
and looks at me for help. “I can’t get them off me.”
I holster my pistol and draw a knife. “Are they biting through your armor?”
“They are not biting me at all,” he says. “And I think they are attempting to communicate.”
“With words?” I’m fascinated and worried at the same time. How long will it be before the spider queen bursts through the ground and blasts us with its liquid nitrogen venom? And where is Axu the Prothean?
“Not words, but a melody, a song. I may be imagining their meaning,” he says, lifting his arms and gently trying to shake them free.
“Well you can’t take them with you,” I say.
“They are asking us not to kill any more of them because it angers their mother,” Zedas says. “And they want us to kill the Prothean destroyer.”
“Can you talk to them?”
Zedas shrugs, which makes the pile of frost covered spiderlings rise and fall dramatically. “I don’t know. Cover your ears, and I will sing a version of my war song.”
Shaina, Garin, and I put our hands to our ears. I still hear most of the Dogan music, if you can call it that. It fills me with awe and sadness at the same time. In that moment, my companion looks like I imagine the demon masks of ancient samurai armor should have been—like he is the personification of nightmares in feudal Japan.
But he’s not. I have to keep my assumptions in line. He’s a Dogan. We’re in the Prothean sector. That’s the reality I must face.
After about ten seconds, the creatures drop and speed away in a clatter of feet and other body parts.
“I think it worked,” Zedas says. “They thanked me for taking them away from the Prothean and asked why we kept shooting their brothers and sisters. They remain more afraid of their ancient enemy than us but ask us not to kill them.”
“You got all that from some hissing and screeching?” I ask.
“It was a beautiful melody,” Zedas says. “I will remember it always. But now we must go. Their mother is less forgiving and seeks a way to reach the surface to punish us. They also warned me about others even more dangerous. Make haste, Doctor Hank Murphy.”
