Mark shrugged. “I haven’t a clue. Why? Is there something significant about the other side?”
She stared again at the upper walls of the crevasse. The pitted texture and bulging veins of stone almost gave them faces. “If this really is a pass, then there must be. Come on, let’s check it out.”
The trek upward was rough, even with the stairs easing the way. As the path ascended, more features began to emerge. Short, stubby pillars built into the walls, their tops burned black. Narrow slits in the stone, beyond which dark rooms sat forgotten. The shapely pits in the rock above became more numerous, aligned in ordered rows and columns. Windows?
When at last the path leveled out, the stairs became even slabs aligned in alternating patterns. Halls and avenues began to branch off the main passage, narrow alleys only slightly wider than Spinneretta’s body. Each new branch bore signs of architectural sculpting: ornamental banisters, strangely shaped doorways, frames of windows that did not exist. Every so often, she noticed enigmatic markings carved into the walls. Most of these were single, horizontal cuts, while others formed more complicated signs that made her think of her own traitorous sigil.
As they walked, the ever-present shade that had followed them from Earth began to recede. Impeded by the god-like mountains, the clouds could not penetrate the depths of this chasm-city. High above, a dusty, pale blue sky began to emerge. And with it came the soft sound of babbling liquid from somewhere nearby.
After weaving through the continuing road for a while, the pass opened into a wide plaza nearly a hundred feet across. The tan, sandy stones shaping the arena seemed to glow in the direct light from overhead. The cliff walls were cut away in rising terraces like the bleachers at school. In front of the left-hand wall, something sparkled in a hexagonal blob. Spinneretta could scarcely bring herself to hope. The sound of water filled her ears and her heart leapt. Fixated upon that sparkle, she stepped over shattered stoneware and fragments of culture as she made her way over to it. Set within an eroded yet ornate geometric frame was a pool. It was filled with water fed by a stream that bubbled out of a fractured orifice on the wall above it.
She stared at the falling droplets, studying the way the ripples spread across the pool and overlapped. Her throat was parched, having received only a minor reprieve from the land-dolphin’s lingering juices. She fell to her knees, her spider legs flourishing around her. No chemical scent in her spiracles. Only the vague unpleasantness of the unfamiliar atmosphere. And that meant that it probably wasn’t poison. And even if it was, they weren’t going to last much longer without water. Dying of poison beat dying of thirst. One of her legs tentatively dipped into the pool’s surface. It was warm, soothing. Not acidic, at least. Forming her hands into a bowl, she scooped up some water and brought it to her mouth. Relief flooded her senses. The water, though warm and earthy, at once refreshed her. She swallowed three huge mouthfuls of the liquid and breathed a loud sigh of satisfaction as her throat began to heal.
“Quite a feat of engineering, this,” Mark said. He gestured toward the depression from which the water trickled. “Natural or not, there must be aqueducts built into the mountain. And that the pool hasn’t overflowed after so long means that it must be draining somewhere.”
It was a reasonable conclusion, but it just made the whole place stranger. Who could have built such a city, one with such clear sentience and culture, only to vanish? Which of the biblical plagues was responsible for the desolation around them? It was a question to contemplate later, for a single thought now obsessed her as she stared at the pristine water. She cleared her throat. “Hey, Mark.”
“Hmm?”
“If you’re thirsty, drink now. And then go sit over there and look at the wall.” She pointed to one of the half-collapsed walls ringing the boulders that littered the area.
Mark raised his eyebrows at her. “Huh?”
“We’ve been walking for hours and I feel filthy. I’m going to take a bath.”
He looked like he was going to call her out for doing something so crazy, but it was a momentary display. “Very well.” He crouched down beside her, scooped two handfuls of water into his mouth, and then made his way over to the fixture she’d indicated.
She crossed her arms and spider legs, feeling quite exposed. “Don’t look. If I catch you looking I’m going to tear your eyes out.”
“Obviously I’m not going to.”
Spinneretta was unsure whether she should be relieved or offended at the abruptness of his response. Christ, get a hold of yourself, Spins, she thought. When she saw him sit down on the other side of the broken wall, she shrugged out of Mark’s jacket and began to peel her ruined prom dress from her body.
Goddammit, Ralph thought to himself. If there was one thing he hated more than doctors, it was their waiting rooms. The chair was the uncomfortable sort that always bit into the spine no matter how one sat. And worse, every time he shifted positions he found himself growing more and more anxious. Not from the anticipation of yet another damned blood test, but because of what Spinneretta had said to him right before they’d left, after he’d told her about the Golmont Corporation’s Lethean Jail information control system.
I can’t imagine anyone making a system like that without a plan to make it worth it.
Since they’d left for Eugene, Ralph had been distracted, confused, suspicious. He no longer even cared about getting the genetic test. All he wanted was to go back to Grantwood, march into the Golmont Corporation’s server room, and see for himself if that insane thought held any merit. Worth it, his mind kept repeating. If everything Mark had told him—about the West Valley Medical Group, about the surveillance watching their every move—if all of that was true, then it left the final conclusion inescapable.
Three children with perfectly functioning spider legs shouldn’t have escaped the attention of science for as long as they have.
Worth it, he thought again. Yeah, I can see that being worth it. Corrosive and volatile, the suspicion ate its way deeper through the top layers of his mind. Was it his fault?
Beside him, May sat absorbed in an old, dog-eared issue of Reader’s Digest that had long been a victim of the tragedy of the commons. The hands of the clock on the wall continued to clack along at a pace Ralph was convinced was slightly too slow.
Christ Almighty, he thought, again shifting about. His eyes drifted closed. He’d slept for exactly fourteen minutes the previous night. Uncertainty and conflicting convictions had kept him awake, poring over different scenarios and explanations, and then second-guessing them. The Golmont Corporation was the only ISP for their corner of the county. If that was the case, then that meant that—
“Mr. Warren,” called the crabby-looking woman behind the reception desk, “Doctor Reynolds will see you now.”
He shook his head, dizzy from the abrupt return to awareness, and leapt out of his chair. “Fuckin’ finally.”
“Try not to assault the doctor,” May said from behind her magazine.
“Won’t have to unless he gives me a reason.” Trying to keep his eyes open, Ralph followed the receptionist’s impatient gesture toward the hall, beyond which Doctor Reynolds kept his office. Genetically spider, huh? Let’s see about that, then.
At 8:35 a.m., Annika returned to the motel room from her brief trip to town. As soon as she opened the door, Kara came alive with a palpable excitement. “What did you get, what did you get?” the girl asked, spider legs writhing and clacking in front of her.
Annika closed and latched the door before offering Kara one of the plastic bags she was carrying. “Hope you can eat beef.”
“I love beef!” Kara scuttled over on her spider legs and snatched the bag from her. A bright smile came to her lips when she opened it and found the two paper-wrapped steaks within. With a jealous glint in her eye, she retreated back toward the beds.
Annika turned her attention to Arthr, who sat just where she’d left him. “As for you, I got a box of donuts. I don’t know what you like
, so I got a bit of everything. Take what you want and I’ll pick at what you leave.”
Arthr, still looking comatose, nodded at her. “Thanks.” He stood up and met her halfway across the room, taking the bag from her with a mechanical motion.
Annika’s squinted at the dim LED clock on the nightstand. “I should probably call your parents now.”
“Is our communications blackout over?” Arthr asked, opening the donut box and looking over its contents.
She shook her head as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Afraid not. This is a business call.” Her thumb punched the virtual keys that would put her through to this May Warren person. “For now, the less anyone knows about where you guys are, the better.”
“Any sign of Spins?” Kara asked from between the beds, where she was envenoming a slice of cow.
“Do you see her? I sure don’t.” Annika verified the number on her phone’s screen and started the call.
The waiting room was nearly deserted, which was just fine by May. Deserted meant quiet, and quiet didn’t come as often as it used to. At least things were gradually improving, now that two of the broodlings were mostly grown. Hope Spins had a good time at prom, she thought wistfully, eyes scanning the same paragraph of Reader’s Digest for the eighth time. She’d left her daughter six messages trying to check up on her, and was starting to think the girl was just ignoring her out of spite for making her wear makeup. She sighed. What timing. Stupid prom.
The clock read just past eight-and-a-half, and she was already bored out of her mind. Ralph had been in with the doctor for forty minutes, just beyond the threshold that her unstable energy allowed her to sit still. And so she hopped to her feet and stretched out her arms, looking about the empty waiting room. Posters of DNA and common genetic ailments punctuated the plain walls, one of which showed an inspirational image of a man with webbed fingers holding up a kickboxing trophy.
As if that hinders you, she thought. Knees locked, she wandered to one of the potted plants in the corner, lost in thought. Ralph had been mysterious on the way to this unfamiliar place; she’d pestered him about why they were driving so far for yet another genetic test, but he’d danced around the question as skillfully as an Olympic ballerina. Do they let ballerinas into the Olympics? It was a non-issue, but that made it harder to dismiss.
Why had Ralph insisted on coming here? More importantly, how did he think he was going to pay for it? The numerous brochures scattered about the facility bragged that it was the best genetic clinic in the state, and you didn’t get the best unless you were willing to pay out the nose for it. She wondered if their insurance would cover it, and then let that thought slide away into the abyss. Ralph was cheap enough that she trusted his judgment when it came to extravagant purchases. But why come all the way to Oregon? And they weren’t even making a trip of it, either. It just felt so bizarre, so un-Ralph.
As she stood thinking, her loose concentration was broken by the sound of Für Elise rendered into 16-bit musical tones. Brought back to reality, she opened her purse and grabbed her phone. She had hoped to see Spinneretta’s name on the display but instead found Unknown Number. She brought the phone to her ear and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”
“Hello, would this be May Warren?” came a woman’s voice.
“It sure would. Who is this?”
The receptionist made a harsh shushing sound and gestured at a sign on the wall indicating a ban on cellphones in the waiting area. May gave her an indignant glare and shrugged at the empty seats lining the walls.
“My name is Annika Crane, Private Investigator,” the voice continued. “I’m calling because I’ve got some rather unpleasant news.”
“Unpleasant news?” May laughed under her breath. “What’s this about?”
“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to let it fly. Last night your home was raided by a number of armed men who attempted to kidnap your daughter. There was a lot of collateral damage to your house, not the least of which is a few corpses and plenty of bullet casings, but you’ll be happy to know that your children are alright.”
May took in the information and let out a shaky breath. “What do you think you’re trying to pull?” she asked. “If this is your idea of a prank then I’m not laughing.”
“I’m afraid there’s no prank here, ma’am.”
May laughed an incredulous spasm. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can just call people and give them these stories about—”
The woman on the phone cut her off with an irritated sigh. “I’d stop being so skeptical if I were you. There’s been a lot going on involving your children and NIDUS. Your husband has filled you in on some of the details, right?”
She scoffed and shook her head. “What the hell are you . . . ? My husband? No, he hasn’t told me anything.” Is this one of those YouTube prank call things?
The woman on the other side paused. “Well, shit. That makes things a little awkward. Uhh. Here, talk to Kara.”
There was the sound of the phone shifting and some chattering in the background. May’s stomach tried to crawl into her throat as anxiety wrapped itself about her core.
“Hello?” came her daughter’s voice.
She choked. “Kara!? Kara, what are you . . . Are you alright? What’s going on? Where are you?” Her mind reeled; her entire conviction had just had its legs kicked out from beneath it. Oh, God, she thought. It’s true.
“Uhh . . . we’re in a motel somewhere,” Kara answered. “We’re okay. Annie’s looking after us.”
May breathed a sigh of awkward relief dripping in anxious dread. “Kara, w-what the hell happened? What’s going on?”
“It was the men in the yellow coats. They came back and tried to hurt Arthr and take me, but Annie was there so it was okay.”
“But, but, wait, you guys are okay, right? You’re safe? And who is—”
“We’re fine,” Kara’s voice bubbled. “Arthr’s a little weird in the head, but he’s okay. We don’t know where Spins is.”
May froze. “Wh-what? What do you mean you don’t know where she is?” The first traces of raw panic crept into her vocal cords.
“Uhh, we’re kind of waiting for her right now. Oh, Annie wants to talk to you, I think.”
There was another rustling. The previous woman returned. “Well, I guess now that she let that slip I can’t pretend everything is peachy here. Anyways, your other children are safe, and—”
The hysteria broke on the shores of her disbelief. “Where is my daughter!? You tell me everything is fine and then you say that you lost her!?”
“Things being fine is a relative thing. I’d say things are damn good considering what NIDUS threw at you last night. And for your information, I didn’t lose anyone, okay? She didn’t show up. She and Mark were supposed to meet up with us last night, but we currently don’t know where they are, and it’s not through any fault of mine. You got a problem with her going AWOL, then take it up with the princess herself, not the private investigator who saved your kids from a bullet-themed funeral, alright?”
“You don’t know?! And what does Mark have to do with—”
“Look, we’ll get to that, if not now then by the time it matters. If you’d like to keep yelling at me then just say the word so I can put Arthr on instead. I’m sure he could use some yelling to cheer him up. If I were you I’d try a little gratitude.”
May took a few moments to steady herself, taking deep breaths that failed to satisfy her lungs. “I don’t know what’s going on, but if my children don’t have guns to their heads right now I suppose I do owe you some thanks.”
“You shouldn’t be thanking anyone right now. What I need from you is the name of some out-of-town friend of yours with whom you could all stay for a while.”
“Huh?”
“Do you need me to spell this out for you? Your home is wrecked, and they’re probably still looking for your children even now. I have a hunch that Grantwood is about
to become a very bad place to be for you and your family. You need to stay somewhere else, preferably someplace where you have connections and won’t attract any attention to yourself. I’m going to ask you again: what is the name of an out-of-town friend of yours or your husband’s with whom you could all stay for a while?”
May shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think I have any friends outside of Grantwood.”
“Then family.”
“Strike two.”
“Well, shit. Think about it and get back to me,” the woman said. “I’m sure you can figure something out by the time you leave Eugene. I’ll keep an eye on your kids until then, and hopefully your other one turns up in one piece. Didn’t mean to stress you out, ma’am. Sit tight there and have a fine day.”
The line went dead. May stood holding her phone to her ear, listening to the sound of deathly silence. Her arm fell away and she almost dropped the phone. This had to be some sick joke. Her hands began to shake. She should never have left them alone. Spinneretta was missing, and that fact was as bad as the rest of the toxic news combined. She trusted her daughter to the extent she could—she thought she could take care of herself, but if armed gunmen were involved . . .
She looked up at the clock. Her worry was liable to eat her alive before Ralph got out of the doctor’s office.
Chapter 7
The Websworn
Beneath Sector Three, far below the half-abandoned labs and remnants of the early projects, the tiled walls and mold-covered floors gave way to a vast gulf of unfathomable depth and reach. Fear mounting ever higher, the six coated men drew near the edge, their flashlights scraping against the timeless dust that swam through the Stygian air. One of their number, Terrance, shone his fluorescent searchlight downward, illuminating the stone faces that dropped for hundreds of feet before bending into a sheer slope. The floating dust below grew so thick that it obscured the bottom. He looked over his shoulder to a coated man more senior than himself. “He’s seriously making us go down there?” he asked in a whisper, hoping the monster in the yellow robe would not hear him. A harsh growl answered his question and silenced his complaints. Stomach frosting over, he turned his gaze once more into the cavernous pit below them.
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