The Exodus Towers #2

Another two weeks ground by before Dr. Brooks called a meeting with Tania, Tim, and a few others. Karl was added via the comm.

“It’s not good news,” she opened with.

Tania’s heart sank. Zane had been in a coma so long now, she didn’t think there would be much in the way of good news, but to hear it from the doctor served to slam a door shut in her mind.

The woman spoke at length of the scans they’d done, and the diagnosis. Tania listened but heard little of it. Instead she kept replaying Zane’s collapse at that dinner. He’d been so vibrant just the day before.

“… ruptured in his brain, here …”

Tania thought back to her childhood. Where Neil had always doted on her like a father, Zane had been more willing to come down to her level. He played with her as if he were the same age, on the occasions that he would visit.

“… His comatose state may be permanent.…”

It was foolish to pretend she’d known the man well. Zane had always been the quiet brother, content to avoid the limelight that Neil loved so much. Except when making some appearance related to a Platz charity, Zane hardly ever had his name in the news.

What impressed Tania the most about Zane Platz was the way he’d risen to the challenge of moving to Belém. Nothing she’d heard about him before that would have led her to think he would even take part in such an endeavor. She would have guessed the man was a pacifist, if anything. But the bond Zane had shared with Neil seemed enough alone to drive him. Tania could relate. Perhaps that’s why he and I have such a natural friendship.

“… We may begin to see organ failure.…”

Tania held her hand up. “Dr. Brooks, please … is there anything we can do other than wait?”

The woman looked at her with a sad expression. “There is brain activity,” she said. “You can talk to him. Play him the music he loved. Anything like that. But you’re a scientist, so I know you prefer facts. The fact is, none of that is proven to help. I fear it is often more to make those who grieve feel … useful.”

“But it can’t hurt,” Tim said.

“True enough. Beyond that, it’s the mundane things. Keeping him nourished and hydrated. Moving and massaging his legs, at least until we can get some pressure cuffs brought up. Bathing him. I’ve been doing this since you brought him in, with the help from a few of the station staff, but help would be appreciated.”

“We could have assisted,” Tania said. Tim was nodding.

Dr. Brooks waved a hand. “I know, but until we had an idea of what we were dealing with, I wanted to limit contact and keep a close eye on him. Now that he’s … stable, I would welcome the help.”

“We’ll set up a rotation,” Tania said. “Teach us what to do, and we’ll make sure it all happens.”

A few more details were discussed, and then the room cleared, leaving only Tim present, and Karl on the comm’s screen.

“Zane’s insight will be missed,” Karl started.

“Don’t talk about him like he’s dead,” Tim shot back.

A silence fell.

Tania cleared her throat. “Go on, Karl.”

“I was going to say that, as much as we all want to help, we have other issues that have languished since Zane fell ill. The scavenger crews have spent so much time finding the medical equipment necessary—”

“That stuff will be useful in the future, too. For years,” Tim said.

“I know, believe me. I’m just saying, Tania, Tim … I’m trying to point out that time is no longer on our side.”

“What do you mean?” Tim asked.

Tania knew but let Karl explain.

“The Builders. When we arrived here we knew it would be roughly two years before they returned. Or whatever they’re plotting.”

“We don’t know for sure,” Tania said. “But you’re close enough. If they keep to the schedule they’ve used so far, we’re now down to just over eight months.” Was it June already? Tania shook her head in disbelief.

“That’s all I wanted to point out,” Karl said.

Tim’s brow furrowed. “But … so what? I mean, what are we supposed to do with that? If there’s one thing we’ve learned about the Builders it’s that we have no idea what the heck they’re doing.”

“I have a few ideas,” Tania said.

“Me, too,” Karl replied.

Tim looked back and forth between them. “Well?”

“You first,” Tania said to Karl.

He took a breath and looked at them both. “I’ve been wondering if we shouldn’t set up a satellite camp. Take a tower and move it out to a safe distance. Just in case.”

Tania pretended to consider the idea, but instantly she disliked it.

“What’s a safe distance?” Tim asked. “I mean, SUBS spread across the planet almost as fast as the news of it.”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “One hundred kilometers?”

“How would they acquire provisions?”

“Send one of the new scavenger crews with them. Plus, Skyler could fly supplies and personnel back and forth.”

Tania grimaced. “I don’t know.…”

“It’s just an idea,” Karl said. “Should anything happen to the camp, it might be good to have a place to run to.”

“We have that already,” Tim said. He glanced at each of them in turn. “Darwin.”

After so much time away, the thought of going back seemed absurd to Tania. “We’d be treated as criminals. Traitors. I don’t think that’s an option.”

“It’s an option,” Tim said. “I didn’t say it was a good one. It’s just there. A last resort.”

Karl leaned forward. “Look, if something were to happen here that would drive us to flee, it stands to reason the same thing would happen in Darwin. Heck, they might even need to flee here. Wouldn’t that be something.”

Tania started to reply, then stopped. A hundred thoughts raced through her mind. Possibilities, reactions, counterreactions. None of it appealed to her. It all seemed to go against the two things she wanted in the world: build a new haven for mankind, and discover what the Builders ultimately wanted.

“See,” Tim said. “This is why I don’t like guessing games regarding the aliens. We simply have no idea what their purpose is. Or if they even have a purpose.”

“I refuse to believe the bastards are doing all this for no reason at all,” Karl said.

“Well,” Tania said. She slumped back in her chair. “Tim is right. There’s still too many unknowns. We have a date this time—March seventh, if the calculations are correct—but that’s not enough to take an action that drastic. I’m sorry, Karl, I just don’t think dividing our strength is the best idea.”

He persisted. “At a minimum, then, we should identify a location. Stock it with minimal supplies.” He shut his eyes for a moment and rubbed his neck. Even the slight exposure to SUBS he’d experienced still left him with brutal headaches, and Tania felt a pang of guilt every time she saw him in pain. The disease was in him now, in stasis, getting no worse and no better.

“Okay,” Tania said. “Pick the spot and start a list of supplies. We’ll wait until, um, ‘Builders’ Day’ is a month or so out before we expend the energy moving supplies there.”

“What was your idea, Tania? In terms of preparation.”

She clasped her hands in her lap and gave each of them a look she hoped came across as earnest. “As you both recall, just before this Elevator arrived, we were experiencing failures in Darwin’s aura. Blips, outages, whatever you want to call it. SUBS got through the protection, and if not for Skyler’s actions we might all be dead right now.”

Both men gave her blank stares. “Skyler’s actions?” Karl asked. “I … what do you mean? What actions?”

“He doesn’t talk about it much,” she said. “Obviously, or you’d both know. Neil sent him to investigate the base of the Darwin Elevator, which contrary to popular belief is quite deep below Nightcliff. Something happened down there, something Skyler doesn’t even understand. But somehow, he fixed it, or … reset it.”

“How?” Tim asked.

“Like I said, he doesn’t know. Nor do I, but I suspect his immunity might have had something to do with it.”

Tim looked pale. Karl’s face tightened. “You’re worried the same thing might happen here.”

It wasn’t a question. “Yes.”

Both men were silent for a long time.

“Of course,” Tim said with a sober tone, “it’s different here. We have the towers. Multiple auras. I guess they could all fail, but that seems counter to their purpose.”

“We have no idea what their purpose is,” Karl said.

“It’s not different, though,” Tania said. “Darwin’s aura faltered because it was having trouble dealing with a new strain of SUBS. That’s the theory, anyway. Skyler was chased down there by one of these ‘newsubs,’ and my hunch is that he somehow gave the Elevator what it needed to adjust to the new strain.”

“This is a lot of guessing,” Tim said.

“No other explanation makes sense,” Tania replied. “Believe me, I’ve thought over and discarded a hundred others.”

“Okay,” Karl said slowly. “The towers might not help. What can we do?”

“My concern,” Tania said, “is that we don’t have the same access to the true base of the Elevator here in Belém. Skyler was only able to do what he did because researchers had dug down below Nightcliff, back in the early days. Neil guarded this secret well, as the looks on your faces prove.”

“So, what are you suggesting? We dig a shaft? How deep are we talking?”

Tania gave a slight shrug. “The true base of Darwin’s Elevator is almost a kilometer down.”

Tim whistled.

“Equipment isn’t the problem here,” said Karl. “It’s knowledge. You don’t just pick a spot on the ground and dig a hole that deep. We need a geologist, and a civil engineer. Or someone like that.”

“Hold on. I don’t think we need to go that deep,” Tania said. “The way Skyler described the cavity, it sounded as if the Builders had done most of the work when they sank this … generator … down there. Neil’s people just had to dig through some initial coverage and then build a stairwell down. We don’t need to go that far, though. A simple high-tension cable would do the trick. A way to lower someone down.”

“Hell,” Karl said. “If what you said is true and a new variant of the subhuman appears, we could just toss one in the pit.”

The words, the way he said them, made Tania’s stomach tighten. “Perhaps.”

“Maybe that’s what we’re supposed to do with those weird armored versions out at red circle.”

“It’s … possible,” Tania allowed. “I’m inclined to avoid dealing with those creatures unless absolutely necessary.” She could still see the dark form as it danced among the colonists, killing with wanton ease. The thought of somehow bringing one of them to the Elevator, and dropping it in a pit, seemed ludicrous. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they did.

“I think we all agree on that at least,” Karl said. “Fine, then. We’ll look at digging a tunnel below the camp, and see if we hit a shaft similar to the one in Nightcliff. I’ll talk to Skyler, try to get some more detail out of him.”

“Thank you, Karl.”

“And I’ll look into a secondary campsite, as well as a basic list of provisions. Things are starting to settle into a rhythm down here, so it shouldn’t take away from anything to start stockpiling supplies. To be honest, with the limited space we’re starting to run out of things to do.”

“Again, thank you. For everything.”

Karl offered a tight smile. “Give Zane a punch in the shoulder for me,” he said, and clicked off.
Gateway Station

27.MAY.2284

SEEN THROUGH THE lens of spiced rum, Earth looked a bit like Mars.

Russell swirled the liquid in his glass. A few drops spilled onto the plush cream-colored rug, leaving little splotches of red like stains of blood.

The alcohol sloshed back and forth, coloring the planet beyond in alternating waves of blue marble and bloody red mess. A laugh began to rumble deep in his gut. It built and built until he cackled like a little girl.

As quickly as it began, the laugh died. He stared at the planet below with a mixture of anger and longing. A longing to return to how things were, when he ran Nightcliff and was at the top of his game. The anger came from handing all that over to Grillo.

When that word crossed his mind, he wound up and flung the glass at the transparent wall. He gripped the couch in anticipation of a spectacular shatter of crystal slivers. Instead, the glass hit the invisible barrier with a dull thud. It fell to the floor and rolled, trailing rum behind it in a graceful curve along the carpet.

No matter what he did, or how much he drank, all he could think about was Grillo. Goddamned Grillo. His neat suits and pretty-boy hair. His f*cking success. Most of all, his endless excuses for delays in delivering the soldiers Russell asked for. Considering how efficiently the man ran the rest of his operations, it sure felt like a convenient comedy of errors when it came to making good on that promise. And deep down, Russell knew he couldn’t do anything but shower the man with orders and insults.

Nine months since Grillo had promised soldiers. Nine f*cking months.

He heard the doors open behind him, and soft footfalls on the carpet.

Please be a woman, he thought. Some spectacular, lonely, needy woman who just came to enjoy the view.

“There you are,” said Alex Warthen.

Russell Blackfield shuddered. He suddenly found himself wishing he hadn’t thrown the drink. “Can’t a guy get some alone time in this tin can?”

Alex came around and sat down on the couch to Russell’s right, as if he’d been invited to do so. “We’ve been turning the station inside out. You missed your climber at eleven hundred hours.”

“I needed a drink.”

The security chief glanced at the rum that still dripped down the thick glass wall. The liquid gave the abstract impression that Australia bled. “We could have supplied the climber.…”

“What’s the big f*cking deal, Alex? So anxious to be rid of me? Do I need to log my every movement with you?”

Alex held up his hands. “Calm down. We were just worried. You and I both know the importance of keeping a strict climber schedule. When you didn’t turn up, well, people don’t just miss a climber departure.”

“Well, shit, Alex. I’m sorry if I put a wrench in the schedule. What did you think, someone jumped me in a hallway? That the ghost had returned?”

The man took a deliberate look at the glass lying on the floor by the window. “Honestly, we figured you’d passed out somewhere.”

Russell got up and strode to the wet bar tucked in the corner of the room. “I’m not that deep into my cups yet, Alex. A bit buzzed, maybe. Give me an hour and you’ll find me facedown in some obscure corner of this sodding place.” He poured another glass of rum. Russell didn’t particularly like rum, but everything else was empty, and anyway alcohol was alcohol when you got down to it. “I would have thought the old man would keep a selection in here worthy of his riches.”

“He did. But that was during a time when things like liquor were tacitly allowed through Nightcliff. Not the most important thing to send up. No one was going to suffocate if it didn’t make it through. But it made life in these enclosed spaces a bit easier to cope with, so we all used to turn a blind eye. Grillo, on the other hand …”

The rum burned pleasantly in Russell’s throat and warmed his stomach. He could guess easily enough where this conversation was going, and he didn’t think there was enough rum in all the world to suffer through it again. “Go on, say it.”

“Grillo didn’t get the memo. Or,” Alex said somberly, “more likely he did and tore it up. His doctrine doesn’t seem to leave room for drink. Or anything else, for that matter.”

Another gulp and Russell found enough fortitude to return to the couch. He plopped down with a sigh and put his feet up on the coffee table. He clasped his hands behind his head and stared at Alex for a long moment, trying to see through the man’s stoic fa?ade. Not an easy thing to do when sober, and all but impossible now. Russell gave up, spread his hands, and said, “How long until we run out?”

“A month, my guess. Of course we’ll still have cider from the farms.”

Russell wrinkled his nose. “That shit is vile. Does the job though, I guess.”

“Unfortunately,” Alex said, “most of the farms with apple crops are still with Tania Sharma.”

“Jesus. If I’m not getting it in one end I’m getting it in the other.” He leaned forward and rubbed his temples, suddenly wishing he could think clearly. “So are you telling me it’s time to relieve Grillo of his duties?”

Alex shrugged. “Rein him in a bit, maybe. He’s cooperating on the whole, but you give him too long a leash, Russell. If he turns on us—”

“Goddamn, is this what I’ve become?”

The comment stopped Alex short. He looked at Russell with confusion.

“Did you and Neil Platz used to sit here and talk about me like this?”

“Well …”

“I’ve become Neil Platz, haven’t I? Deposed the f*cker just so I could deal with the same shit.” He figured he shouldn’t say anything else, but the rum let his mouth keep going. “I figured this would be the best bloody job in the world. Top dog, all that shit. Instead it’s one long series of headaches.”

Alex let the rant fade before he spoke. “I really don’t understand you.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, deep down …” Alex paused. He shifted in his seat, leaned forward. “Deep down, what do you actually want? No, I’m serious. We pulled off our coup. We got rid of Neil, disbanded the council. We had everything, and then out of nowhere you gave half of it to a zealot slumlord.”

“Didn’t know he was a zealot at the time.”

Alex ignored him. “The other half you’ve shown almost no interest in managing, despite the fact that you continue to insist on being involved in every little decision. It’s like you climbed Everest and all you could think to say was, ‘Er, bit cold, isn’t it?’ ”

“Bad analogy. Implies there’s nowhere to go but down.”

Alex spread his hands wide. “Isn’t that the truth? You’re at the pinnacle of humanity, and you spend the time drunk or disagreeable. Both, more often than not. I mean, what did you hope would happen when we started this endeavor?”

Where’s this “we” shit coming from all of a sudden? You were laid up with a broken collarbone the entire time. Russell sighed and turned to the view of Earth again. A sudden melancholy fell over him like a blanket. He took a deep breath, then went to sip his rum, only to realize he’d left the glass on the wet bar. He clenched his fist instead. “What I wanted was to tie everything together, you know? Darwin and orbit in one cohesive whole, instead of the constant pissing match and forced friendship. Both sides reliant on each other and yet reluctant to share, it seemed like a recipe for disaster.”

“And you had that,” Alex said, “but you broke it apart again when you gave Darwin to Grillo. I don’t understand.”

Russell shook his head. “No. It broke apart before that. We were close, but then Tania had to go and take all the brightest minds, not to mention our food supply, and bugger off to South America. So you see, we never were whole, Alex.”

“That’s going to twist in your gut until the bitter end, isn’t it? Tania.”

“Yeah. Problem?”

Alex sank back in his seat. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, either deep in thought or profoundly tired. Probably both. Russell waited. He looked at his hand again for the liquid confidence, saw it was still empty, and briefly entertained the idea of getting up to fetch it. Given Alex’s mood, he decided it could wait.

The man’s eyes blinked open again and he met Russell’s eyes. “You’re a hunter, Blackfield.”

“Eh?”

“A hunter. Not an administrator. The role you fought for will never make you happy because you need prey.”

“What the f*ck are you on about? Are you my shrink now?”

Alex shrugged. “Just telling you what I see.”

“Fascinating, Doctor Warthen.”

“You had drive and ambition in Darwin because you had Neil Platz to plot against. Before that I’m guessing you spent your time scheming to take Arthur Braithwaite’s job in Nightcliff.”

“That guy was a spineless fop.”

“No argument there,” Alex said. “Point is, you need an enemy. It’s just who you are.”

The words somehow broke through Russell’s state of intoxication. He could almost taste the truth in them, and it tasted like salty chips. He swallowed with some effort, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he wanted a glass of water.

Russell Blackfield hated a lot of things, but near the top of the list was being predictable. Being solved. For all his adult life the only prompt he needed to change course was when someone had known the course ahead of time. Knowledge of the future was a powerful thing, and while some people simply found comfort in knowing that what happened today would happen tomorrow, rinse and bloody repeat, others wielded that information like a weapon. They’d be one step ahead, always. Russell’s own mother had been the grand master of this. For most of his childhood he’d thought her to be some kind of psychic, a mystical witch of a woman. Try to take money from her purse only to find a mousetrap inside. A little note for him to read through the pulsing pain of fingers nearly broken. “Piss off, get a job and make your own way.” He’d sneak in through the back window after a night of drinking and vandalism to find the chair he’d carefully placed before leaving missing a leg, rigged to collapse. The fall to the floor hurt like hell, but worse was the fact that she’d f*cking known.

Her lessons were supposed to teach him to be a fine upstanding citizen. It even worked, for a while. But then he realized that if he stole money from her purse on random nights, instead of every Friday, no trap would be set. If he came in through the front door, an hour earlier than usual, she’d miss him. The new tactic worked so well that Russell decided to have the letters VTP tattooed on his right forearm. Initials of some fallen friend, most people assumed. They stood for “Vary The Pattern.”

Alex Warthen went on. “You’re a mess lately, and I think it’s because you’re torn between some feeling of obligation to ‘run things’ while what you really want to do is bring the runaways back into the fold. You’re unable to focus. And on top of that is the knowledge that you handed Darwin to someone else, and he’s doing a damn fine job.”

“I’m only letting you say this shit because I’m too drunk to stand up.”

“But it’s true, right?”

“Yes it’s f*cking true!” Russell shouted more than said. “Doesn’t mean I have to like hearing it. I still don’t understand what the hell you expect me to do. Go down to Darwin with a squadron of thugs and kick Grillo out? Won’t be pretty, and like you said, he’s the bloody messiah down there.”

“What I’m saying,” Alex said with pointed patience, “is that you should put all your energy into the runaways, from now until the situation is resolved. And I mean really do it, not just talk.”

Russell opened his mouth to speak but Alex’s upheld hand stopped him.

“Hear me out. You focus on Tania and the new Elevator. Whatever it takes, just bring them under our umbrella. You know it’s what you really want to be doing, anyway. Let myself and a few of the old council members deal with the minutiae of keeping these space stations provisioned.”

“And Grillo?”

“I thought I might try handling him.”

“Oh? What difference would that make?”

“Your first instinct was to take a squad of thugs down there. I thought I might try a little diplomacy.”

Russell rolled his eyes. “Oh God.”

“It worked well enough with you for years.”

“Now you’re just being a prick.”

Alex brushed the comment aside. “You tell Grillo I’ve been placed back in charge of managing shipments on the cord, and I’ll take it from there. Once you’ve got the Brazil situation under control, if I don’t have Grillo behaving to our liking then you can turn your guns on him.”

The plan had a sobering effect. Alex had him figured perfectly, and he couldn’t deny the appeal of putting all his attention into revenge against Tania Sharma. “Grillo promised me fighters. He’s been dodging that ever since.”

“I’ll make it a priority that he deliver.”

Russell nodded, then turned to the blue planet out the expansive window. The deal was done. “Neil, Tania, maybe Grillo after that. What happens then?” What happens when I run out of prey?

Alex inclined his head slightly. “Well, there’s always the Builders.”
Belém, Brazil

12.JUL.2284

THE THIN CORD plunged into darkness, well beyond the limit of Skyler’s flashlight. Radiance danced along its length, as if a strand of shiny black hair had been stretched right down the middle of the abyss.

He pulled a glow stick from his vest pocket, shook it until his arm hurt, and then cracked it. A green glow built within the childish object.

With his flashlight turned off, the space beneath base camp became pitch-black save for the faint green glow coming from the stick. Skyler held it out over the precipice and dropped it.

It seemed to fall forever, spiraling on the hot air that rose from the power source below. The glowing stick fell until he almost couldn’t see it. Finally, the object stopped, as if it had become caught in some invisible field within darkness. Skyler put his binoculars to his eyes and tapped the autofocus until the green glowing stick came into view.

The surface it rested on was another iris, just like he’d seen below Nightcliff. This came as no surprise. Skyler had been down here many times since the tunnel team finished their work, months ago, but he still liked to survey it for any changes. Any hint that it might experience the same failures Darwin’s had. The room where he stood, twenty meters beneath the center of camp, had been carved largely by hand after a tunneling machine bored the main access way. Warm air from the alien generator below gave the space a sauna’s climate. Moisture dripped down the packed soil walls, traced lines along the rocks too big to remove. Wooden beams were irregularly placed around the circular space, with a simple square formed across the top to presumably hold up the “ceiling.”

Something about the pit drew him back, time and time again. It never looked any different, of course. Nothing led him to believe it would, but he still felt the need to check. Part of him wished it would change, that he’d stare down into the hole and see brilliant yellow light emanating from the alien thing, beckoning him to dive in again and become enveloped in the light, in the machine. To feel every memory held within his mind splayed out before him again—

“There you are.” It was Karl’s voice, from the access way.

Skyler turned from the pit and raised an arm to shield his eyes from the bright light the other man carried. “I usually get some peace and quiet in here.”

“Very apt,” Karl said, “since peace and quiet is why I came looking for you.”

The older man came and stood next to Skyler. He took a pensive glance over the edge, down into the depths, and clicked off his own light.

“How’s the headaches?” Skyler asked.

“Under control, thanks to you and a diet of ibuprofen,” Karl said.

Skyler said nothing for moment while Karl’s eyes adjusted.

“Hell of a long way down,” he said once he’d spotted the green light.

“Peace and quiet, you were saying?”

Karl turned his light back on and shot Skyler a sidelong grin. “I’ve spent the morning on the comm with Tania.”

“Oh,” Skyler said. I know that look. “Some new emergency, and you need me to go fetch something. Let’s put off the big issue for a few more days, Skyler. That about right?”

The man’s grin shifted to a grimace, and in that instant all the signs of exhaustion and stress returned to his haggard face.

“So what is it this time?” Skyler asked.

A hint of sadness crept into Karl’s eyes. He hesitated, studying Skyler as if he’d never seen him before. “This rift between you and Tania, it’s pretty deep, isn’t it?” Karl gestured at the pit.

“Don’t change the subject. Especially not to that subject.”

The older man’s expression held, though. He looked back and forth at Skyler’s eyes, as if seeking his answers there. “You two should hash this out, Skyler. It’s unhealthy.”

“I’m here if she wants to talk.”

“Bullshit,” Karl said, his voice even. “Every time she comes down you either have Ana at your side, or me. Plus some excuse locked and loaded in case you might be forced into any conversation other than the business at hand.”

“And every time I try to get out of here, to go do the work we all know needs to be done, she finds some critical project that simply must be top priority. Or she simply writes it off as too risky. You all do.”

Whatever Karl had been about to say, he swallowed it, and visibly calmed himself. “You’re both acting like children.”

“I’ve been cordial. I’ve done everything asked of me.”

“I know,” Karl said. “I know. I just wish you two would put that business with Gabriel behind you.”

“That’s not even the issue anymore. At least it’s only part of it. Karl, we’ve squandered a lot of time. The calendar is no longer on our side. Digging out this room shouldn’t even have been on our radar. It’s a diversion.”

Karl fell silent.

Skyler went on. “I never thought I’d see it happen, but all these scientists, Tania chief among them, seem terrified of risks, of the unknown. The camp needs the tools required for survival, granted, but we’ve done everything we can without expanding the aura. And all the while the clock ticks.”

He took a breath. When Karl said nothing Skyler went on. “Those towers vacated the camp for a reason. We all know it. That thing, whatever the hell it is, out there in the rainforest, is there for some purpose. It must be. Karl, dammit, we need to figure out what the hell is going on here before the Builders throw everything out of whack again. Zane is stable. The camp is operating smoothly. Our last two trades with Blackfield came off without a hitch. And …”

“… time is running out.” Karl finished for him.

“Exactly. Yes.”

Karl stared into the abyss for a long time. Thick with the smell of soil and rock, the air felt heavy even compared to Belém’s humid standards. “Maybe you should just go then,” he said, finally. Then he turned toward Skyler and gripped his shoulder. “You’re right. Tania will find reasons to keep you here as long as possible, simply because she doesn’t want to lose you.”

“I’m useful, sure, but not invaluable. We have other immunes now—”

“She doesn’t want to lose you, Skyler. Don’t act like you don’t know that. That business with Gabriel, the decisions she was forced to make, devastated her.”

“That may be so, but no one forced her to lie to me about it.”

Impatience flashed on Karl’s face. “Is it so goddamn hard to understand? She was consumed with guilt and saw a way out with just one little white lie. I would have done the same damn thing. But then you caught her in it and had to make a big goddamn stink about it. Did you know she almost quit after that? She wanted to, wanted to run off to Black Level and hide in a cloud of research again.”

Skyler hadn’t known. “Why didn’t she?”

“Talked her out of it. Zane and Tim, I mean, though I would have been happy to help persuade her. Put yourself in her shoes, Skyler. Brilliant scientist, the favorite son—if you’ll pardon the expression—of Mr. Platz. She never asked to be the leader, to make decisions that had people’s lives hanging in the balance. All she thought she had to do was tell Neil the specifics of the new Builder ship, and then let him take the reins like he always did before. Except it didn’t work out that way. Neil finally lost a battle and out of every possible candidate he trusted her with carrying out his plan. I think if Neil Platz earned one thing in his life it’s our trust in his judgment of people. He chose you, too, you know. And me.”

A picture came to Skyler’s mind. The research room on Black Level, where they’d shared a bit of food and drink while they discussed Neil’s plan. For all her drive and bravery, he’d seen the terror deep in her eyes. He’d tasted it, when she kissed him moments earlier as thanks for coming to help. He had undertaken that journey with a single-minded sense of purpose, and even left his friends behind in order to seek out Tania. For all the reasons he’d used to justify the race to find her, he knew deep down the truth of it: He’d wanted to be with her. The oldest, dumbest reason in the book. Who’s the liar? What excuse did I give Prumble, or Sam? Something about seeing Neil’s plan through, about Tania being the key to it all. Bollocks.

“Maybe some time away,” Karl said, “would do you both some good. Prep your aircraft, get your crew ready, and find out where those towers went. I’ll explain to Tania and the others. She’s more likely to come around to the idea you’re just tracking the other three, instead of tackling those demons in the forest.”

Skyler found himself nodding, even though he felt trapped between two choices. Part of him wanted to rush to Tania as he had in Darwin. Apologize, do whatever it took to rewind back to those first days after leaving the city and its Elevator behind.

That was impossible now, though. He knew it. The rift between them had grown too large, and of course there was Ana.

Wild, insatiable Ana.

She’d shared his bed a hundred times now and seemed to grow more eager each time. More than that, she loved him. She’d said it often enough. He’d even repeated the words in the darkness when they lay together, their bodies entwined in the heady sweat of afterglow.

Skyler shook his head to clear the memories. Karl took this as refusal and started to argue, before Skyler silenced him with a raised hand. “We’ll take off tomorrow at dawn.”

“Okay. Good.”

“And Karl? Thanks, friend. For speaking your mind.”

Karl clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll talk to Tania after you’ve left. Find our towers, Skyler.”