Obsidian Prey (7 page)

“How grateful?” Tina Tazewell demanded.

Cruz ignored her. He took Lyra’s arm and steered her toward the jungle gate where the hunters and the people in AI uniforms waited.

The entrance to the rain forest was a large, rectangular opening in the green quartz wall. Humid heat flowed out into the corridor, but it evaporated almost instantly, nullified by the always steady temperature of the catacombs. Lyra saw a little dirt and one or two dead leaves on the floor of the tunnel and knew that they had been carried out on the bottom of someone’s boots. The debris would soon disintegrate and disappear altogether, thanks to some as yet unidentified mechanism that kept the tunnels clean.

Nothing escaped the jungle unless it was carried out. A number of gates had been opened during the past few months, and at each of them a mysterious and—to human senses undetectable—force field kept the flora and fauna securely confined within the rain forest the aliens had created. The researchers and scientists had quickly discovered that living specimens did not last long aboveground. The plants and animals in the artificially constructed jungle required the heavy psi atmosphere inside their bioengineered world to survive. Like the aliens themselves, they found the surface of Harmony an inhospitable and deadly place.

The green glow of artificial sunlight was clearly visible. It was night on the surface, but the jungle ran on its own schedule.

Lyra moved through the gate, Cruz at her side. At once the rich, living energy of the jungle enveloped her. The Guild maintained a clearing directly in front of the tunnel entrance, but she knew it required daily maintenance. The jungle reclaimed territory with startling speed. Paths established one day usually vanished by the following afternoon.

Beyond the perimeter of the clearing the massed greenery pressed close. It was impossible to see more than a few feet because of the dense foliage, all of it shimmering in various hues of luminous green. The trees towered upward, forming a leafy canopy that concealed most of the quartz sky. Small things skittered in the undergrowth. Birds screeched in the distance.

“Thanks for coming down here, Miss Dore,” one of the Guild men said.

She gave him her most vivacious smile. “Well, it wasn’t like I was doing anything else more entertaining this evening.”

Relieved laughter greeted that remark. The small crowd of ghost hunters and Amber Inc. people seemed to relax.

“How far to the ruin from here?” she asked. “When I discovered it, I used a different gate. You know how it is; distances are deceptive underground.”

Her not-so-subtle claim to the ruin did not go unnoticed. Cruz smiled slightly. The AI people exchanged glances. The Guild men, however, were a lot more focused. There was a team trapped in the jungle. It was their responsibility to rescue it.

“The amethyst chamber is only a thirty-minute hike from here,” the lead hunter said. He hesitated. “That’s if you’re accustomed to jungle travel. If you’re not used to it—”

“I’ve done this before,” Lyra assured him.

“She’s a pro,” Cruz added.

She glanced back over her shoulder and saw the reporters crowded around the entrance, still snapping photos. “Are they coming with us?”

“No,” Cruz said. “They are not. Those of us in charge of this project are trying to pretend that the ruin is still a secure site and that only authorized personnel are allowed anywhere near it.”

Lyra thought about all the unwanted free press she had given him and the discovery of the amethyst chamber in the past three months with her lawsuit. She laughed.

“Good luck with that,” she said.

“Tell me about it. We’re having to pay the Guild overtime for twenty-four-seven security in the field, not to mention covering the costs of several search-and-rescue operations. Amazing how many treasure hunters and curiosity seekers have managed to sneak into the rain forest in search of the ruin and gotten themselves lost in the process.”

“See, we independents don’t face those logistical problems,” she said smoothly. “Because we keep our mouths shut when we make significant discoveries.”

“And then you screw up by trying to sell your finds on the underground collectors market.”

“Well, yes, that, too,” she admitted.

He looked at her. “Thought we agreed to save the snappy comments until some other more convenient occasion.”

“Right. Let’s get going. I’d still like to get some sleep tonight.”

They plunged into the jungle, the two hunters in the lead using machetes to cut a path through the thickest sections. Taking Lyra at her word, they set a difficult pace.

Mostly it was a matter of pushing through masses of vibrantly green plants and flowers and scrambling over vines and downed trees. Since there was no way to maintain a road or even a rough trail suitable for sleds, the only way into the rain forest was on foot.

As far as the researchers and explorers had been able to discern, there was little to fear from the flora and fauna. The aliens hadn’t been so dumb as to fill their artificially constructed jungle with a lot of dangerous wildlife and poisonous vegetation. But the Others had been gone a long time, and everyone knew that life had a way of evolving on its own, even in a controlled, bioengineered environment. The experts continued to issue warnings, and no one took unnecessary chances.

There was, however, no doubt at all about the other two major concerns in the underground world. Getting lost was a serious hazard. In addition, powerful currents of dangerous psi energy flowed in rivers and occasionally manifested in full-blown storms. Blundering into the heavy stuff could be lethal. Those who survived the experience usually ended up with their para-senses permanently shattered.

But in its own way, the rain forest was incredibly beautiful. Lyra savored the experience as she always did. Green sunlight filtered through the canopy. Magnificent peridot green flowers bloomed everywhere. Vast curtains of vines studded with green orchids of every size and description hung from the trees. Here and there small green lizards and other creatures scurried into the undergrowth to avoid the tread of human feet. Emerald green butterflies with impossibly large iridescent wings flitted from blossom to blossom.

“You like it down here, don’t you?” Cruz asked.

“Who wouldn’t?” she said. “It’s an astonishing experience. I’m so glad the Guild has begun to allow some tourism. Everyone should have the opportunity to see this place. It’s one of the wonders of our world, like the mountains and the oceans and the forests on the surface. No one has a right to monopolize the rain forest.”

“In principle I agree with you,” Cruz said. “The problems, as usual, are in the details. People get killed down here. The jungle is dangerous.”

“So are mountains and oceans and forests. But people go hiking, swimming, and camping all the time on the surface. And sometimes they get killed.”

“Okay, I’ll concede there are a few parallels,” he said.

“The only real difference down here is that access is limited to those who possess the kind of psychic talent it takes to open a gate. Since most people don’t have the ability to do that, the Guilds have been able to maintain some control. But they are fighting a rear guard action.”

“I know,” Cruz said. “At the rate talents are appearing in the population, it probably won’t be long before the majority of people will be able to open a jungle gate. Another couple of generations, maybe.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said cheerfully. “I’m sure Amber Inc. won’t have any difficulty hanging on to its mining monopoly down here, just as it hasn’t had a problem hanging on to it aboveground.”

“We’ll certainly do our best,” Cruz said.

She knew that if she glanced back over her shoulder, she would see the unmistakable spark of dark humor in his eyes, so she concentrated instead on pushing through a veil of hanging orchids.

Something small and green darted along a tree limb. Vincent’s little paws tightened slightly around Lyra’s shoulder. His second set of eyes, the ones he used for hunting, popped open. He studied the small rodent with great interest.

“Uh-oh,” she said.

“Hey, you hang out with predators, you’re going to see some blood once in a while,” Cruz observed.

She recalled her words to Nancy earlier that evening.
He looks like a really well-dressed hit man.

“Yes,” she said. “I have noticed the blood.”

There was a short silence behind her.

“I was talking about dust bunnies,” Cruz said finally.

“Oh, were you?”

Thankfully, the small creature on the tree limb disappeared into a tangle of leaves, and Vincent lost interest.

Twenty minutes later, she sensed the faint aura of energy that emanated from the chamber before it came into view. Vincent picked up on her anticipation and made enthusiastic noises. She was breathing hard, and her shirt was soaked with perspiration, but her spirits lifted immediately.

She had always had an affinity for amber of any kind, but the purple variety called amethyst was her specialty. It sang to her senses in a way that no other version of the stone did.

Amethyst amber was one of the extremely rare forms of the stone. But until the discovery of the ruin, it had not been viewed as valuable except to collectors of rare ambers and to those who liked amethyst jewelry.

The relics that she had found inside the ruin had caused the experts to reconsider that analysis, however. It was evident that there was a lot of latent energy in the artifacts. The problem for the Amber Inc. lab experts was accessing that energy. They badly needed someone who could work amethyst amber to aid them with their testing and experiments. Such individuals had proven to be scarce. To date, the only person they had found who could resonate with the energy in the relics was a stubborn, low-rent tuner who had steadfastly refused to cooperate.

“Almost there,” one of the Guild men called back to the sweating trekkers behind him.

A few minutes later they walked into the small clearing that the hunters had established around the amethyst chamber. A half dozen men and women in AI gear were arrayed around the scene. Most sat glumly on bedrolls or other convenient pieces of camping equipment, drinking bottled water and munching on energy bars. They surged to their feet in unison when they saw the rescue team.

“You got her,” someone said. “Thank God.”

“I didn’t think she’d come,” a woman said. She gave Lyra a grateful smile. “Thanks, Miss Dore.”

“Always happy to be of service to Amber Inc.,” Lyra said lightly.

The bald-faced lie produced a wave of nervous laughter.

The amethyst chamber stood in the center of the clearing, a windowless structure carved out of what appeared to be a single massive block of purple amber. The ruin was circular in design, nearly thirty feet high, and a little over half that in width. Lyra knew the numbers because one of the first things she had done after finding the chamber was measure the interior. A colonnade of amber columns surrounded the outer wall, giving the structure an oddly graceful appearance. The columns supported a dome-shaped roof.

The door of the chamber was an imposing, vaulted entrance that was a little more than half the height of the structure. At the moment, it was sealed with a roaring, pulsing cascade of intense, flaring energy. It was impossible to look directly at the hot, flashing bolts of raging purple psi for more than a second or two at a time. Lyra noticed that no one was sitting close to the entrance of the chamber. So much throbbing, churning energy had a disturbing effect on human senses.

One of the men came forward. He was in his late forties or possibly early fifties, a tall, thin, sharp-featured individual in thick, dark-rimmed glasses. A goatee framed his narrow, unsmiling lips. Lyra decided he probably did not have much of a sense of humor.

“Dr. Felix Webber,” Cruz said. “The head of the lab. Felix, this is Lyra Dore. She very kindly agreed to help us.”

Webber nodded brusquely and managed to look even more irritated.

“Miss Dore,” he said. “I’ve tried several times to get in touch with you during the past few weeks.”

“I’ve been busy,” she said. She started toward the door filled with purple lightning. “Let’s get this done, shall we?”

“Are you sure you can handle this, Miss Dore?” Webber demanded.

“With one hand tied behind my back.” She stopped in front of the door, her eyes slightly averted from the veil of searing energy that filled the entrance from top to bottom. “What did you guys do to close this thing?”

Webber’s expression tightened with outrage. “What makes you think it was something that one of the team members did?”

“Let’s just say I’m a tad suspicious, because I know how this door works. Someone must have triggered it. You know, you people really should be careful when you fool around with alien ruins like this one. Someone could get hurt.”

“Who are you to lecture me on how to deal with alien technology?” Webber snarled. “You’re just an opportunistic little tuner who happened to get lucky when you found this ruin. But you didn’t have the training, the talent, or the education to appreciate its real value. To you this place was just a source of expensive relics you could sell on the underground antiquities market.”

Cruz moved forward. “That’s enough, Dr. Webber. If it hadn’t been for Miss Dore, we might never have found this chamber.”

Webber’s jaw clenched. “I don’t trust her, Mr. Sweetwater. She has made her hostility toward the company and the lab abundantly clear.”

“I trust her,” Cruz said simply. “She says she can get our people out. Let her do her job.”

Webber swung around to face him. “How do we know she isn’t going to make the whole thing explode? Or maybe she’ll booby-trap it so that the next time it will close on one of us?”

Lyra wrinkled her nose. “No offense, Dr. W, but you’ve got some serious paranoia issues. You might want to try a few sessions of Harmonic Meditation exercises. I’ll be happy to give you the name of my instructor.”