TKC 292 and 293
After Damin nearly comes to blows with Kay for allowing Siri
to accompany him, we move with all stealth into the lower regions of the ship.
Gennerin leads.
I have never seen Siri as angry. Ross, the young soldier,
murmurs under his breath that she is able to blow the ship to vacuum with that
kind of fury. Ross led Siri and Kay to us. I find his comment amusing and snort
my laughter, which earns me a skew look from Damin.
Leffandir has promised to behave, no doubt because any
attempt at escape will probably see her losing her head from a host of Ilfin
aboard, and thus she walks freely. Damin remains close, but no longer seeks to
hold her.
Many levels down, we enter a space where gigantic pipes and strange
contraptions form a maze. We are in the bowels, although Gennerin reveals there
are more levels below us, most of those as shielding from both the vacuum and
destructive enemy fire. It feels like the bowels, however, a netherworld of
industry and technology. A resonance permeates the metallic labyrinth. The multitudes
of parts that are required to run a ship of this nature speak to each other in
a low hum. It is more otherworldly to me than being on an unknown planet is.
Kay halts. “I hear …” He shakes his head and adds, “Never
mind. It sounds crazy.”
“You hear the connections,” Damin says. “Technological.”
The westerner frowns. “How do you know? How do I know what I am hearing?”
“It is your talent,” I say. “Move; we cannot be caught here.”
We go on after Kay and Damin trade stares.
Ross, bringing in the rear, hisses warning and we melt into
a conglomerate of ridged pipes, hunkering low to remain as unobtrusive as is
possible.
“Triple the guard,” someone commands in a low tone. “Gennerin
is rumoured to be on board.”
“He knows nothing,” another responds.
“Apparently Iniri Makar is with him. She knows. Triple the guard.”
“It will be done.”
The voices move into further depths away from us. Gennerin mouths
Moravin in my direction, and my hands
clench into fists.
About to follow those retreating voices, we freeze as one
being. Another sound reaches us and this is behind us. Damin holds one hand
aloft, chopping down. We are to wait. He swivels carefully on his heels in his
crouched position, and lowers to crawl under the piping. The last I see of him
is the soles of his boots as he slithers away. My heart pounds; I wish to
scream at him to come back to me.
Long minutes pass, each moment filled with excruciating
tension. Siri is no longer angry; her anxiety is written for all to see upon an
ashen face. She grips Kay’s forearm fiercely, digging into his flesh through
the uniform’s tough material. He does not react; he is as tense.
Without warning – he is that silent – Damin’s fair head
appears beneath the pipes. Almost I hiss my terrible relief. Assuming a new
crouch, he holds a hand up, five fingers splayed. Closing it into a fist, he
again shows us five fingers. I assume it means ten guards, but whether these
are the additional bodies called for or the guards already in place? I have no
answer. Damin shrugs; he does not know either.
Ross is now as pale as Siri.
Leffandir taps my arm. When I look at her, she points at me
hand. I desire to hit her, but she is right. Our only defence lies in the
deployment of the orb.
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