But what was she depending on?
He watched her climbing, saw the slender feminine frame she couldn’t hide beneath a mining uniform, even if it did hang off of her. The mask had given her back her surety, if not completely erased the moment of trust. Either way, she climbed now as if she owned the ladder, straight as the rails and with the usual tension wiring through her movements. Lovely, really. If you liked that sort of thing.
He let go of the ladder when she reached an easy jump from the tunnel ledge. A large pipe blocked the shaft here, lowering the risk of a fall substantially, and six tunnels branched into the planet’s core from the horseshoe-shaped ledge. Their assigned unit worked in the third from the ladder, and that was where he’d found the crew boss waiting for them, mask in hand, ten minutes before.
Had they meant for her to learn a lesson, perhaps? They hadn’t wanted her down here in the first place. If they suspected Corah was here as Dern’s spy, maybe the miners worried about their own secrets? Curel had hushed up the sabotage mention. On Dern’s orders, or to keep the news from Corah and therefore Dern as well?
Too many questions. Curel had given him a knife. He might actually oppose Gervis Dern, but that was a thin thread to hang any plans on. Which only reminded Mofitan that he was supposed to be gathering information himself. And so far, he’d done nothing of the sort.
“Where now?” Corah had reached the bottom. Her head tilted back enough to allow her to glare up at him. Not showing vulnerability now. Not even a twinkle of it.
“Third tunnel.”
“No more ladders?” She brushed at her uniform and eyed the shaft and the huge pipe.
“No.” Mofitan sighed. “I think it’s all uphill from here.”
“What?” She snapped up and faced him, tight and with her chin jutting.
“Nothing. It’s this way.” He turned his back to her and marched toward the tunnel. The mask made her look like an insect. A curvy, annoying insect that had managed to get under his damn skin somehow.
He led the way into tunnel three and found the crew boss waiting again. Spying possibly. Great. The slinking crew boss bobbed too much, hunched even when the tunnels were tall enough to stand in, and tapped randomly with a stubby stylus at a data board.
“There you are.” His voice came like steam leaking, like the constant sounds of the mine only a hair above the background hissing. “There you both are. Oh no. No, no, no.”
“Excuse me,” Corah said.
Mofitan let her push past him, might have let her brush against him, just a little.
“You don’t belong down here. No. Not a good idea at all.”
“And why not?” Corah stood on her tiptoes. Mofitan caught her doing it, but the crew boss only bobbed and shook his head. He shuffled away from her, turned, and headed down the corridor at a steady, if bumpy, ramble.
His chant echoed in his wake. “No. No, no, no.”
“Let me talk to him.” Mofitan tried to help, but the look she tossed over her shoulder could have smelted ore. He shrugged and waved her forward instead, and had to bite back a chuckle when she snorted and spun off.
One crazy woman.
He watched her walk through the hollowed-out bedrock.
Nice behind, however.
The tunnel widened here so that at least three men could walk beside one another with ease. It curved to the right, branched, and probably had linked up with the others at one time. After the first bend, however, the damage revealed itself. Rubble filled most of the branches, bent pipes had been collected and piled against the wall in the widest spaces, and a repair crew moved like ants over the mess, hauling and stacking both rock and equipment. They choked the main passage, and forced the crew boss to stop, turn, and face the irritation chasing after him in too large boots.
“It’s not safe,” he said before she could protest again.
“There are women working here.” Corah pointed an arm at one of the nearby miners. “What about her?”
“It’s not about that,” the crew boss muttered and hopped in place. “She’s a miner and you’re…”
“Yes?”
If Mofitan had been in front of her, he’d probably have ducked. The crew boss had less sense. He only bobbled and rushed onward. “You’re not.”
“She’s with me.” Mofitan moved back a step, a good arm’s length from her just in case. “I’ll keep her alive.”
“Can you weld?” Crew boss had the sense to grab a lifeline. He switched his focus to Mofitan, gazing pointedly over Corah’s head.
“Anything you got.”
“Fine. She’s your problem.”
“Just wait one minute.” Corah readied another volley, but the crew boss was done with her. She might be Dern’s right arm, but down here, she clearly stood out as a liability. If she kept arguing, he had a feeling she’d be evicted regardless of Gervis Dern’s orders.
“Shhh.” He shushed her without thinking, and about choked on it when she spun around. His hands came up, palm out, and he rushed in just as moronically as the boss had. “Listen, you want to stay down here, right?
“You shushed me just now.”
“Yes.” Mofitan flashed his teeth. He had size on his side, but she had mean. “And it’s working.”
Her lips twisted. She wanted to fight him, to keep the argument going, maybe. But the crew boss had taken her distraction as a cue to move things along. He scrambled over the first pile of pipe, whistled loud enough to stall Corah’s next protest, and waved for them to follow.
“Come on, feisty.” He’d never been one to avoid danger, had he? Even so, he ducked a little to one side as he passed her, and he cringed at the expression burning on her face. “Step on it before he changes his mind.”
Boss man had gathered three miners around his pipes, and he focused on giving them orders while Mofitan joined him. Corah didn’t take long to recover. She might come off as rigid, but she could scramble too. A good quality in someone he was going to be stuck underground with. She slid in beside him, shifted her weight from foot to foot and managed not to say whatever it was that she was obviously dying to spit out.
“You go with Match down Tunnel 15.” Crew boss tapped his stylus and then waved it at the shortest of the miners. “Crew there will have a welder and shield you can use. Damned bomb took out two-thirds of the machinery in this shaft. Need to piece what we can salvage back together.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take her with you.”
“Couldn’t be rid of her if I wanted to.” Mofitan smiled at Corah, but she didn’t appreciate the joke. Her eyes said she’d like to take out at least two-thirds of him.
“Watch out for gunfire.” The crew boss bobbed and tapped the stylus. “Kids get a little twitchy with the ghosts down here.”
“Ghosts?”
“Vermin. Creepy white buggers always staring at you. Some of the guys started calling them ghosts and you know how names stick.”
“Sure.”
“Are they dangerous?” Corah found her voice, and it had lost a great deal of its fury already. Maybe the idea of whatever crept through the tunnels had cured her.
“Don’t worry about them. My boys got it covered.”
A round of chuckles bloomed through the miners, and the crew boss dismissed them with another tap and wave routine. The air in the wider segments smelled better, but Mofitan could see the mists collecting near the cave ceiling. He didn’t love the idea of spending too much time down here. Maybe he could win his way out by fixing the pipes, or clearing the vermin from the tunnels. He glanced at the woman. She scrunched her nose at him in a way that, even through her mask, he could tell meant “not a chance.”
Time to breathe some damps.
“We’re this way,” the little miner said. He had dark hair, slicked back over a high forehead, and his whole face glistened. He swallowed visibly, shifted his weight, and gave Corah a sideways glance. His uniform was a lighter shade than Mofitan’s, and there were thin spots wherever the
man bent. “Get you all set up down there.”
“She’s with me,” Mofitan blurted and then chewed on his tongue. The devils take her.
Match shrugged and headed through the rubble. Corah hesitated long enough for Mofitan to get a few paces ahead, just in case she asked for an explanation that he wasn’t remotely prepared to offer. He still had to sort it out in his own head. What had gotten into him and why hadn’t he pushed her into a shaft when he had the chance?
Also, it occurred to him again that he hadn’t even tried to do his damn job yet. No more distractions. They had a moment now, when their leader ducked into a side tunnel. The man led the way, and Mofitan hung back just enough to let the woman catch up. “How many workers does a mine like this employ?”
“Nearly a thousand.” Corah latched onto his subject change willingly enough. “Plus a few dozen pilots working the transports.”
“Huh. And this is just one mine.”
“Our sector has six primary facilities.”
“Bigger than this one?”
She gave him a look, slowed her feet, and remembered to be suspicious. “Maybe.”
“Huh.” He shrugged. If she clammed up she’d be no good to his real purpose here. He needed her talking. He needed her talking about numbers and organization. Mining data didn’t mean shit to military operations, but he’d meant to ease things in that direction. “Sounds like a lot of headache.”
“Gervis has it well under control.” Did he hear a note of disapproval in that?
“I’m sure he does. Trust me, though, a big workforce requires a lot of hands to manage.”
“And I suppose you are an expert in mine management.”
“As a matter of fact…” He trailed off when the tunnel echoed with weapons fire again. The branches made it howl from all directions, in a variety of pitches that told him absolutely nothing about where the danger came from. He flattened against the wall, pressed his back into the stone, and scanned to either side.
Corah stood in the open. She’d bent lower, but still made an easy target.
“Get flat.”
“What?” She looked at him, stuck out her chin, and showed him exactly how little she cared for his order.
“You’re in the open.”
“I’m three feet from you.”
“Do you have a death wish or is arguing just a hobby?” The firing had stalled, but he felt there was still a point to be made here for self-preservation. He stood slowly and made a show of listening to the tunnel behind them. Their guide had also hit the deck, though up enough ahead that he made a shuffling silhouette.
That called back to them in Match’s voice. “Nothing to worry about. They’re not shooting in our direction.”
“It’s a recipe for disaster if you ask me.” Mofitan brushed past Corah and pretended he wanted to catch up with the miner. “Someone’s going to lose an eye.”
“Wait!” She got it finally, snapped alert, and shuffled behind him. “Wait. I saw something.”
The last part she hissed at him, and Mofitan stopped and turned around in time for her to crash into him. His arms moved on their own, reached out and latched onto her. He made a point of helping her steady herself and releasing her the second she was stable again. He also snarled a little. “What?”
“There was something back there, something white behind us.” Corah had shifted to straight-up whispering, and he had trouble reading her voice like that. Had the tunnel ghost scared her, or was she trying to tell him something without being overheard?
“A ghost?” He matched her tone, but she didn’t answer.
Her eyes widened and she tilted her head to one side, stared past him, and jerked her head sharply, no.
Mofitan turned around in stages. He kept his eyes on her, shifted his weight and then his shoulders before losing eye contact to face the way she stared. He half expected to see gases, or maybe a real ghost. He expected to find his mine crew at work, or even an empty tunnel.
Instead, their guide still stood waiting. The tunnel continued at a slight downward slope. Two men stood in the mouth of a branching bore now, and Mofitan guessed that what had stunned Corah snarkless was the little body they held between them. It glowed a soft white in the dimness. He could see where the term ghost applied, but this was no rat. Despite the puffy, smooth skin and the rolls of extra meat, this creature had two arms, two legs, and a round, doughy head. As they carted it into the passage, the weight shifted, and a round face peered, lifelessly, back at Mofitan.
This was a humanoid creature, even considering the fat tail. Child-sized, non-threatening. He didn’t need to hear the gasp behind him to know Dern’s right arm agreed with him. If this was Dern’s idea of vermin, the man was more than his enemy.
He was a damned monster.
Chapter Fifteen
They were shooting people.
Corah stared at the limp form, the rolls of ghost-white skin, and choked down a surge of bile. Killing Chromians made little sense. The creatures never showed any hostility, even when their warrens were invaded and evacuated to make room for more buildings, more city or mine or whatever project expanded to overlap their territory. They lived in peace with any interlopers, lived off the garbage and the cast-off goods, and kept to themselves except for a few brave individuals she’d seen attempting to sell the recycled detritus of Spectre.
Why bother shooting them if they only moved out of the way when confronted?
The men carrying the body jostled it, and the face rolled into view. Slack. Pathetic. They had no way to defend themselves, no weapons and no natural claws or teeth. Pointless, killing something like that. Not even something, someone. Murdering someone.
Mofitan shifted his feet and blocked her view of the body long enough for Corah to catch her breath. If he’d done it on purpose, she couldn’t say, but the purple man had acted far too protective of her since the mask incident. She didn’t need to show weakness to him of all people. She could take care of herself, had done so since her youth. She didn’t need anyone else involved.
Unless she could use it. Damn. He’d muddled her brain. She did need him on her side. Niels had said as much. He’d even tried to talk to her earlier. If she meant to figure him out, it would have been an opportunity to try at least. The gases had dulled her wits, perhaps. That or the burly alien, the way he’d held her up when she’d stumbled into him. Her heart still pattered moronically at the memory.
Way off the mark, Corah. Back to business.
“Is that a person?” Mofitan leaned down so that his mouth was too near her ear. He’d closed the distance between them, and now he did a good job of reminding her how it had felt when he’d grabbed her. “Did they just shoot a child?”
“Not a child, but—” Corah shook her head. She let her voice tell him that she didn’t condone this kind of slaughter. No matter what side she was on. “The Chromians are completely peaceful, defenseless.”
“This is their vermin?”
“I don’t—” She blinked at him, felt the heat in her eyes to match the warm shivers under her skin. Don’t cry. Not in front of this one. “I didn’t know about this.”
“Obviously.” He snorted. “Can you keep going?”
“What?” Despite his bulk, his background, and his brusqueness, the man dropped his guard far too easily. He’d make a terrible rebel, in fact. But she decided then and there that he’d never work for Dern either. “I’m fine.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
“Hey!” Match finally noticed their distance. “Are we working or sightseeing today?”
“Welding.” Mofitan turned back, put his bulk between Corah and the men with the dead Chromian. “Just waiting for your sharpshooters here to clear the way.”
“You heard him. Dump that thing down the hole and get back to work!”
Mofitan waited for them to cross the tunnel and vanish into another branch. Then he led the way to the waiting miner and accepted a heavy-looking apron and face shield
from the man. More workers crossed the tunnel up ahead. The air thickened closer to the site, filled with dust as well as the gases. It put a haze across her mask, and made her vision blurry.
Corah kept back. She hated herself for letting him shield her. Still, if he thought she was warming up to him, maybe he’d tell her what he was really after. She doubted he’d come here to work for Gervis. More likely, if he hated this other man enough to get caught trying to kill him, then he’d come to Gervis for help finishing the job. A problem, if she wanted him on the rebels’ side.
On her side.
Her bet would be playing to his over-protective instincts. Mofitan didn’t strike her as a man who could be easily manipulated, but he’d already shown some tendencies to defend her. If Corah could stomach playing weak, she might win his help yet.
“This way.” He’d turned back around, though in the dust she had to squint to tell. It must have been obvious too, because his hand landed at her elbow again and he turned her around gently and guided her back to the tunnel where the men had carried the poor Chromian. Once they’d rounded that corner and stood alone in the new branch, Mofitan let her in on his thoughts a little more. “I don’t think they want me down here any more than they want you.”
“These are not the sort of men to welcome anyone from outside their own circles.”
“Agreed. But they’ve sent us to repair a burst pipe that may or may not be somewhere down this hole.”
“Oh.” Corah didn’t have to fake the waver in her voice. Though she wished she could have hidden it a little. “What now?”
“Now?” He chuckled and his grip on her elbow drifted up to her forearm. Soft skin for a big guy. Much softer than she’d imagine a slave’s, an assassin’s, or an inmate’s would be. “We look for the pipe and keep our eyes open. Friends or not, I think down here, we’d better work together.”
Eclipsed (Heartstone Book 3) Page 11