Zero Recall (30 page)

They were bad.  The
Dhasha had sliced open a fluids circuit for his fifth segment.  If he didn’t
find a way to the surface in the next eight hours, he would have to choose
between shedding half his length or bleeding to death.

Daviin twisted back
around to face the slave tunnel again.  It had been sloping upwards for over an
hour now, but now it had taken an abrupt downward turn, seemingly doubling back
on itself.

Undisciplined fools,
Daviin cursed.  The tunnels had no rhyme nor reason, and not for the first
time, he wished he had the Ooreiki’s special instincts.  The Jreet, much to
Daviin’s chagrin, were often taunted by Dhasha for having trouble finding the
door in a well-marked, one-room house with nothing to obstruct their view of
all four walls.  Directions, as much as he hated to admit it, were not Daviin’s
strong suit.

Praying the slave tunnel resumed
its upward slant somewhere ahead, Daviin continued forward.

Instead, the tunnel
dipped even more steeply, making it an almost vertical drop.  The slaves
apparently had dug the tunnel to bypass another one, and wherever Daviin was
headed, it wasn’t to the surface.

He cursed himself again,
though it was too late to turn around.  His physiology made it impossible to
back up, and he didn’t want to take the chance that he would get trapped if he
doubled back on himself to change direction.

At the end of the tunnel,
Daviin found himself faced with a main shaft and no way to avoid it.  Raising
his energy level, he slid inside, keeping as tightly to the left wall as he
could as he made his way up the slight incline that indicated the way out of
the deep den. 

The tunnel ended at a
pile of rubble a hundred rods later.  Daviin realized with growing despair that
the Takki had filled in the entrances and he was probably thoroughly trapped. 
He could never dig his way out, not before the Dhasha heard him and came to
investigate.  He had to find an open shaft, which meant he had to find the
shaft the Grekkon had dug to penetrate the den.

Daviin, however, was
thoroughly and utterly lost.  He didn’t know which of the twelve entrances he
had found—he was even having trouble deciding just which way was up.

Examining his fate,
knowing he was bleeding to death, Daviin realized he had to make a decision. 
He was in a main shaft.  He knew where it led, if he knew nothing else.  He
could go back and finish what his comrades had given their lives to do.  What
his
ward
had given his life to do.

But Daviin hesitated.

His ward was a slave.  If
the Welus found out a Voran prince had died extracting blood-price for a slave,
Daviin’s family line would be forever shamed.  The Welus would scream his name
in battle for a thousand generations.

Still, he
had
given his oath.  The Human had been his ward.  Daviin had made the choice
himself, however much the Human had withheld from him.  However faulty his
decision, it had been
his
decision.

Daviin had never felt so
torn.  He glanced down at his hands.

Joe was my ward.  We
will meet again, beyond the ninety hells.
  Daviin hesitated, imagining the
reunion.  Then,
What will I tell him if I didn’t do my duty?

His family, Daviin
decided, could fend for itself.  Let the Welus scream.  The oath of a Voran
Sentinel was sacred, to whomever it was given.

Daviin had already
started back down the shaft when he heard the movement in the rubble behind
him.  He froze.

The movement came again,
the scraping of scales on rubble.  Not Dhasha scales—something softer.

A Takki.

Daviin slid closer, so
that he was straddling the pile of debris blocking the entrance.  Sure enough,
he heard a Takki breathing in a recess, hidden by dirt and rocks.  The steady
way its breath moved through its teeth told him the Takki had not heard him—it
was merely hiding.

Waiting for someone to
attempt to break through so it could report it to its masters.

Daviin slid forward and
allowed himself one small echolocating ping to solidify in his mind the Takki’s
position.  He heard the Takki jerk with confusion.  Then, lightning-fast, he
plunged into the Takki’s hiding place, grabbed the creature by the arm, and
tore it out into the tunnel.  With a whiplike motion, he flipped around and
slammed the Takki into the ground with all the force he could muster.  He heard
the rapid pops of bones breaking and a faint gurgling groan.  Daviin repeated
the process until he was sure the Takki was dead.  He wanted to avoid using his
tek as much as possible, to save his poison for his real enemies.

After the Takki breathed
its last, Daviin slid back down along the side of the tunnel, wedged tightly
into the lower corner, pushing his way deeper into the den.

He was going to die, but
he would take as many Dhasha with him as he could.

Tics later, Daviin heard
a group of Dhasha racing up the shaft, no doubt to investigate why their spy
had ceased to file reports.  They passed him, oblivious to the seven rods of
Jreet lying invisible along the wall.  Daviin let them go, still clinging to
the edge of the tunnel.  His fight was elsewhere.  Perhaps, if he was lucky, he
could remove Joe’s corpse to the surface for an honorable burial.

Daviin had descended
almost a ferlii length into the bowels of Neskfaat and was beginning to hear sounds
of life from the tunnels ahead when movement from above startled him.  For a
horrible moment, Daviin thought a Dhasha had been standing completely still in
the hallway, listening for him.  Then he realized it was a muffled scuffling sound,
like something being pushed and dragged at the same time.

He’d heard this sound
before.

“Scarab!”

He said the word as loud
as he dared, hoping it carried into whatever tunnel the Grekkon had dug. 
Daviin would have given anything to be able to ping the surrounding area, but
he could hear at least a dozen Dhasha somewhere ahead of him, and every one of
them would come running at the sound.

The sounds above him
stopped.  After a moment, they resumed again, though they seemed to grow
closer.  Daviin reared up, preparing to strike if it wasn’t what he had
thought.

“Scarab,” Daviin
repeated.

The sounds stopped
again.  A trickle of dirt fell from the ceiling. 

“
Jreet?
”

There was no mistaking
the artificial voicebox of the Grekkon digger.

“Why are you still here?”
Daviin whispered.  “Why did you not flee?”

“
Follow me.  We talk
somewhere safe.
”  The smooth, dragging-pulling sound resumed, directly
above his head.  Daviin pushed up and felt for the opening with his snout.  The
Grekkon was already gone somewhere ahead, leaving Daviin to follow the sounds
of his burrowing.

Daviin slid into the
perfectly-slick tunnel and followed for almost twenty tics, the Grekkon’s
tunnel mimicking the Takki’s in its lack of logical straight lines, instead
curving and swaying haphazardly, almost as if the Grekkon were inebriated. 
Daviin was growing irritated when the Grekkon finally stopped. 

“
Lower your energy
level, Jreet.
”

Daviin did.

The Grekkon peered at him
with its four black eyes.  Instead of talking, the Grekkon burrowed back on the
tunnel it had just created, rejoining the shaft precisely where Daviin’s body
ended.  Daviin felt a cold prickle, realizing how close he had come to losing
one of his segments.

“
Stay right here. 
Don’t move.  Don’t say a word.  I have three Takki on my trail.  I’ve shaken
the rest, but these are being stubborn.  Save your strength while I deal with
them.
”

“Can I help?” Daviin
asked, twisting around to look.  He could see nothing past the black void of
the Grekkon’s rear.  Sudden panic washed over Daviin as he realized the Grekkon
could back into him and dissolve his entire body—and Daviin could do nothing
about it.

“
No,
” the Grekkon
said.  “
Vanish again and stay silent.
”

Daviin did so and held
his breath, listening.

Scarab turned around,
then carefully backed himself into the tunnel he had just created in the wall.

The first Takki came soon
after he was situated.  Daviin tensed, ready to lash out and deal with the
Takki himself, but he never got the chance.  As soon as the Takki passed before
the Grekkon’s hidden entrance, the Grekkon lunged.  Twin spears punctured the
Takki’s chest and came out the other side.  The Takki didn’t even have a chance
to scream.  The Grekkon began backing up again, dragging the Takki with it. 
What it did with the body, Daviin wasn’t sure, but it duplicated the procedure
with the next two victims, not even giving Daviin the chance to assist.

Once it had dragged the
third Takki out of sight, the Grekkon backed around until it was facing Daviin
once more.

“
You asked why I’m
still here.  Two reasons.  The prince isn’t dead and we have four members still
alive in the deep den.
”

Daviin stiffened.  “They
surrendered?”

“
No.  Incapacitated.  The
Human and the Ooreiki are unconscious.  The Baga is mangled, but Jer’ait
believes he might still be alive, based on what the Prime demonstrated in the
barracks.
”

“And the Huouyt?”

“
Grooming the prince.
”

Daviin’s lip peeled back
from his teeth in disgust.  “
Grooming
him?”

“
It’s the only way he
can maintain visual contact with the others without becoming conspicuous.
”

Daviin resisted the urge
to comment on the cowardice of the Huouyt and instead said, “So the Human is
alive?  You’re sure?”  His instincts as a Sentinel were telling him to rush to
the deep den as quickly as possible to do battle, but he had absolutely no idea
where he was.

“
I told you.  The Human
and the Ooreiki are unconscious.
”

“How many guard our
companions?”

“
Three, not including
the prince’s females.
”

“Dhasha females are
bloated, craven, and slow.  They will not fight us.”

“
That’s what the
Huouyt said.  Still, I think they should be accounted for.
”

“Do you have a plan?”
Daviin demanded.  “I can’t kill three Dhasha by myself.”

“
We’re not going to
kill them.  I’m going to create a tunnel that exits in the center of the deep den’s
ceiling.  It’s a two-rod drop.  You’ll secure your lower end in the ceiling and
drop into the den, grab our companions, and pull yourself back up before the
Dhasha realize what’s going on.  Jer’ait will use the confusion to administer a
poison to the Dhasha prince and then will meet us back at the entrance to our
original shaft.
”

It sounded plausible. 
The fact that he might be able to get his ward out alive was making Daviin’s
blood rise.  “What about the heirs?  Jer’ait said they needed to be killed,
too.”

“
At this point, the
Huouyt believes headquarters will be happy if we get out alive.  The prince
will be a bonus.
”

Daviin grunted.  “Good. 
Let’s do this fast—”  He motioned at his ruptured liquids channel.  “I’m
running out of time.”

If the Grekkon noticed or
cared, he said nothing.  Instead, Scarab simply slipped into the wall and
disappeared.

They had been closer to
the deep den than Daviin had thought.  In only a couple of tics, the Grekkon
had opened a hole in the ceiling and they were staring down at their
companions.  As the Grekkon had said, three of their companions were piled in
an unconscious heap near one side of the room.  On the other side of the room,
a cluster of small, violet-scaled Takki dug large chunks of rotted flesh from
under the prince’s huge, uncannily iridescent oblong scales.  Daviin peered
hard, but he could not distinguish the Huouyt from the others, neither by looks
nor mannerisms.  The prince grunted in his sleep, kicking one of his stubby,
ebony-taloned feet.  The Takki near his feet quickly found somewhere else to
be.

“Which is Jer’ait?”
Daviin whispered, pulling back into the tunnel.

“
Does it matter?
”
the Grekkon said.  “
As long as he holds up his end, we don’t need to know.
”

It was true.  Daviin took
another look at the scene below, fixing it in his mind, then wrapped the last rod
and a half of his body around the pillar of dirt the Grekkon had created for
him by making a circular tunnel.  Once he was secure, he once more raised his
energy level and slowly began lowering himself into the deep den, head-first.

As soon as Daviin’s snout
touched ground, he oriented himself by listening to the prince’s breathing. 
Heading in the opposite direction, he threaded his way across the floor until
he reached the Human’s leg.  He grabbed it with one hand, careful not to move
it as he did so.  He closed a fist around the Ooreiki’s meaty black arm, then
moved forward and took the Baga gently in his mouth.

Behind him, the prince
snorted and lunged to his feet with a roar.  A Dhasha moved near the entrance
it guarded, padding toward the center of the room.  It bumped Daviin’s body
where it was strung out above the floor.  The heir gave a startled grunt.

Daviin lunged up and
back, throwing every ounce of muscle into ripping his companions off the floor
and pulling them toward the ceiling before the Dhasha realized what it had
touched.

The Grekkon’s pillar had
not been made to withstand such treatment. With a horrible sinking in his gut,
Daviin felt it collapse under the pressure of his coils.  The full weight of
his upper half and his burden came to bear on his lower half, and Daviin felt
himself sliding.  He dropped his companions and scrambled for purchase, but it
was too late.