Chapter 93

Chapter Ninety-Three

Connor couldn’t be sure what was more surprising: that Selen had approved the raid on the archaeological team’s camp, or that the team had reached their target without serious mishap.

He squatted against one of the low, perforated mounds, sweat streaming down his face in the afternoon heat.

Far away, something made a high, sharp warbling noise.

Whatever it was, the low growth of the area—squat, bushy things that might be distant cousins to the pollen-spouting scrub surrounding the pit—hid it.

All around him, the team took sips of water, conserving it and maybe worrying it could be corrupted by the hairy things that had somehow gotten into the pipes.

The water smelled normal, and it was sweet on the tongue, but…

How would you know if you were drinking alien spider guts?

They were maybe a hundred meters out from the camp edge, based on Elise’s estimates, and the only threat facing them was one of the large bugs that had dogged their trail since noon. The thing hung back, but the strange coppery smell gave it away when the wind shifted.

Kalpana came over to where Connor was squatting and rested against the mound, rifle on the ground. She pulled her helmet off, shook out sweat, and toweled it out with a cloth she’d draped over her armor. “Miserable.”

It came out straightforward, with no sense of tease or innuendo. Yet there was something about the way her leg brushed against him, and she’d chosen to settle so close…

He glanced around the mound, at the point he thought he’d spotted one of the buildings. “A hundred meters.”

“And not a bug in sight.”

“But there’s one following us.”

She wicked sweat from her arms, then stopped. “I could drop it.”

“That might bring more.”

“Might.”

“I’m going to have Vicente keep an eye on it.”

“While you keep an eye on me?” She arched an eyebrow.

The playfulness was still there but subdued.

It was the atmosphere of this place: drawing something out of people, or maybe influencing them, implanting ideas. Maybe it was affecting him, too.

And it had to be what was going on with Selen.

Except, she’d approved of the mission.

Had his decision to go to the mercenary ship changed her?

Kalpana took a drink from her canteen, then put it away. “You ready?”

“I think we are.”

As she pulled her helmet on, he signaled to Selen. She was ready, too.

Connor sent the scout forward, then whistled to the others. “Time to move.”

Groans went up all around, but they got to their feet.

A few minutes later, they were looking at the camp: heavy canvas tents, most of them still intact and standing; cases in similar shape, some with items spilled across the mossy ground; a small shed with its door propped open.

The shed was the most curious part. It was plastic with embedded solar cells. Those cells kept the softer material rigid with current.

And inside that shed were weapons.

He pulled one out: a civilian assault weapon.

Elise crept toward him, eyes wide. “Our security gear.”

The gun was empty and not particularly dangerous, not compared to what his team was carting around.

He handed it to her. “There are magazines in that shed.”

She stared at the weapon. “It didn’t help.” Her gaze drifted toward one of the tents that looked ready to collapse. There were holes in it.

“Did you have a security team?”

“Rhee. Armand Rhee. He worked for the university. He showed us how to shoot and…” Elise cupped her face in her hands. “He was the first to die.”

Connor pressed the weapon into her hands. “Those Orion Home Protectors use a lower grain rifle round. It’s not much more than a pistol round. Against some of these things, it might actually be ideal. Grab some magazines.”

She set the weapon down against the side of the shed and dropped to her knees to get to the small cases.

He left her there and headed toward the heavy case the Moon twins were looking at.

When Connor approached, Tom waved, then pulled something out. “See this?”

The taller twin held up a small, gray box with a yellow and black symbol: explosives.

Connor opened the box. “Commercial explosives.”

“Must be a hundred kilos.”

“Take as much as we can handle. Detonators and remote triggering devices, too.” Connor dropped his backpack. “Load me up.”

Tim unslung his own backpack. “On it.”

Yemi whistled, then waved wildly. He stood outside a collapsed tent.

Connor excused himself and headed over to where the mechanic was now digging through whatever was inside the tent. “Find something good?”

“Yemi does. The winch system.” The mechanic dragged out a small case. “Yemi uses this. Portable. Powerful. Three hundred kilo capacity.”

“That’s a lot better than our plan to have Vicente lower us down.”

“Yemi packs it.”

The case wouldn’t fit in a backpack, so Connor helped strap it around Yemi’s chest.

Then a sight caught Connor’s eye: Aubriella and Mosiah standing outside a tent another row up.

Connor patted Yemi on the back. “Good find. Keep your eyes peeled.”

“Yemi looks sharp!”

Once the old mechanic had his weapon at the ready, Connor jogged over to see what Aubriella was up to. She seemed paler than normal and the way she stood hinted at trouble, as if she might be ready to collapse.

As he approached he made as much noise as possible. “Aubriella?”

She turned, pale. “A body, Lieutenant.”

Had she seen what these monsters could do, other than Gregor’s death?

But when Connor drew closer, he realized the body wasn’t torn up or hollowed out or otherwise traumatized. It was an older man in an ancient pith helmet and jungle khakis. From the features and age, Connor guessed he might be looking at Dr. Chong.

And judging from the bloody bulletholes stitched across the man’s chest, he’d been killed by gunfire, not monsters.

Mosiah patted the young woman on her shoulder and turned her away. “There’s a woman of about the same age.” He pointed to another fallen tent.

Why hadn’t the monsters dragged off all the corpses? They took their prey.

Maybe that was it.

Before Connor could mention the idea, Kalpana’s sniper rifle boomed.

He spun on a heel and saw the scout running lateral to the camp along the perimeter, maybe fifty meters out.

Static burst over his radio, and before he could talk, she did. “Visitors!”

And then he saw them: a swarm of the huge bugs charging toward the camp.