by Zen DiPietro
Cabot took a deep breath as he led his group down into the labyrinth. He hadn’t set foot on Ardino in eight years, but while the players had changed, the game remained the same.
The narrow entry shaft had steep stairs that quickly brought them far below ground level. Once they got to a certain point, Cabot felt a significant drop in temperature and humidity.
“Watch the stairs,” he warned them. “Go single file, and watch the person above and below you. If someone stumbles, prop them right up or we all might tumble down.”
Only minimal lighting cut through what would otherwise be absolute darkness. Their steps echoed where the cavern expanded far overhead and were muted when they were more boxed in. It was an odd assortment of acoustics.
The descent gave him an odd sensation of isolation, as if his group of four were far from any other people. This path was designated as strictly downward-going, so they didn’t even cross paths with others ascending to the surface.
“What is this place?” Peregrine asked.
Apparently, she’d never been to Ardino, which Cabot found interesting. He tucked the fact away in his mental database.
She was third behind him, after Nagali and before Omar, so he had to raise his voice. “Natural caves carved out by water, which eroded softer stones away over many thousands of years. Of course, that was when this planet had water in abundance. Now, all it has is a few pools, deep down in the caves. If it were still a wetter planet, everything here would be damp and you’d feel drips on your head every now and then.”
He stole a look back at her when she didn’t respond. She looked irritated by the narrow clearance in some areas, where a rock face hadn’t been planed down, forcing them to maneuver around it.
Behind him, Nagali looked somewhat more grim than usual. In the gloom, he couldn’t get a good read on Omar.
Further and further they went, until they were a mile and a half below the surface. There, the narrow passage dramatically opened into a large cavern that was as wide as it was long.
“This is the landing zone,” Cabot said over his shoulder to Peregrine.
Seven people sat or stood in the large room, spaced out so that none of them appeared to be together. They came from a variety of planets and backgrounds, with no unifying characteristics.
At the center of the cavern, a Trallian sat at a desk made of a long, flat slab of rock affixed to two vertical blocks of stone. Cabot led his group to this Trallian. A female, he saw as he drew closer. She wore wooden jewelry in her coarse, upswept hair. She watched them approach with big, curious eyes.
“New faces,” she cooed. “I love new faces.”
“Not new. Just…absent of late,” Cabot corrected with a pleasant smile. He easily fell back into his bland shopkeep routine.
“Well, welcome back.” The Trallian ignored the others behind Cabot and looked up at him, twirling a strand of hair that had escaped her hairdo. “What are you looking for?”
“Who says we’re looking for anything?” Nagali’s husky voice asked from behind him.
“Everyone who comes here is looking for something. Escape from Atalus, supplies for Atalus, or things that Atalus can supply to you. There aren’t any other reasons for coming to Ardino.” The Trallian gave him a knowing, yet somehow coy look.
Was she flirting with him? Cabot was a lot of things, but he was not the kind of guy anyone flirted with.
“Does no one ever have mechanical trouble and come here looking for parts?” he asked.
“Not often. They’d have to be desperate.” She leaned forward and offered a small, dark hand. “I’m Pigie.”
Did she say Piggie? He couldn’t call her that. He’d seen men get beaten to a pulp for calling a woman less.
“How do you spell that?” he hedged, taking her hand. He tried to give it a business-like shake, but she seemed more interested in holding hands.
She recited the letters, tracing each one on his knuckles with her spare hand while the other held on steadfastly. “Pigie.”
“Of course. What a lovely name. I don’t think I’ve heard it before.” Behind him, he could practically feel both Omar’s intense amusement and Peregrine’s impatience boring a hole into his back.
He wondered what Nagali thought of this turn of events.
Not that it mattered.
Pigie beamed at him. “Thank you. It’s old-fashioned. But in my book, the best things are. Anyway, are you going to tell me what you’re looking for or do I need to guess?”
Nagali piped up again. “Oh, do guess. That sounds like fun.”
This time, Pigie’s eyes flicked momentarily to Nagali. “Okay. Let’s see. You’re clearly not Atalan refugees. They’d have to be nuts to come here anyway. I don’t see you carrying any cargo, so you’re not looking to sell. That must mean you’re looking to buy. The question is, what would a mismatched group like this want?”
She looked from one of them to the next, her eyes full of calculation. “You’re looking for labor, right?”
Agreeing seemed like the simplest thing to do. Cabot said, “Now that’s very clever. You could tell just by looking at us?”
She quirked a small shoulder. “I’ve been here for four years now. There’s not much I haven’t seen.”
“Four years? You must have a thing for caves,” Cabot teased.
Pigie brightened at his personal attention. “Not at all! But the pay is good, since being here is so inconvenient. In another two months, I’ll have enough saved to open my own shop, wherever I choose. Or take a low-paying job in some wonderful locale where I don’t have to rely on my income.”
“I understand completely. You’re investing in your future.” Cabot gave her a warm smile.
“Exactly. So how much labor are you looking for?”
“Actually, we’re looking to connect someone who needs a lot of labor with someone who can provide it. We were told to ask for Taffer.” He hoped that was the right answer, or at least a good one. He was going by instinct.
“Mm.” She nodded. “Not too many people know that name. I can arrange something.”
“How much does an introduction cost?” Cabot asked.
She shook her head hard, making her wooden trinkets knock together. “That’s not how it works. I’m paid from a fund established to maintain support workers like me. Part of my contract strictly prohibits accepting bribes. We’re entirely on the up-and-up here.”
On the up-and-up, while dealing in slaves. Right.
Cabot opened his mouth to inquire what he needed to do, but Pigie cut him off.
“Take the passage over there.” She pointed to her left. “You’ll find refreshments, a general store, and places to rest, if you wish. I’ll talk to the person in question, and we’ll see what happens from there. I assume you have references?”
Omar spoke up for the first time. “The best. Including Ditnya Caine.”
Her eyes sharpened. “I see. Go and relax, and I’ll come find you when there’s something more to know.”
“Right.” Cabot remembered from his previous visits that comports wouldn’t work down here. The people who worked down here took special measures to ensure it. “Would you like our names?”
Pigie pointed again to the leftward corridor. “Irrelevant at this point. We both know you’d give false ones. And why base a new relationship on lies?”
She’d lost her flirtatiousness, and her eyes now held humor.
“That seems wise. I hope to hear from you soon, Pigie.” Cabot gave her a nod.
She grinned. “There, that didn’t hurt, did it? You’d be amazed at how uncomfortable my name makes some people.” She chortled.
As Cabot led the others to the passage, he wasn’t sure whether to be amused, impressed, or apprehensive. Pigie was more than she seemed, but for now, he had no way of knowing how that would play into this scenario.
9
“It’s surprisingly pretty down here,” Peregrine remarked.
Rather than get any refreshments in t
he cantina, they’d quickly perused the general store. Cabot saw nothing new, just the regular assortment of personal care items, clothing basics, prepackaged food and water, and so forth.
Since browsing had taken all of five minutes, they’d gone further down the passage to the next opening. The rock floor slanted at a mild angle and the ceilings were low enough that Omar’s hair brushed it when he stood straight. The space offered some tables, seating, and adequate light, though, and at the moment they didn’t need anything else.
“Yes,” Nagali agreed, sitting on a long bench with her legs crossed. “With proper lighting, you can see the features of the stone and the mineral deposits.”
“I wouldn’t have expected it all to be so smooth.” For someone who didn’t talk much, Peregrine was being chatty, relatively speaking.
Omar spoke up. “Water. A long time ago, it filtered down here through the dirt and crevices, and washed away all the limestone. After that’s gone, an abundance of water will wear off the edges of harder stones, too. Amazing that all this can be made by water, huh?”
They all looked at him for a long moment.
“What?” he snapped. “I know stuff.”
Nagali laughed, and even Peregrine’s face eased to something that might be humor.
They kept their conversation light and topical, just in case any listening devices were in place.
Nagali and Omar were arguing over whether Go or Chess was a more diverting game when Pigie appeared. When Cabot checked the time on his comport, he saw they’d been waiting for forty-five minutes.
“He’ll talk to you now,” Pigie said.
“Taffer?” Cabot asked.
“I’ll leave it to him to reveal his name,” Pigie deflected. She removed a bag from her shoulder and pulled out a black box.
She set the box on the table where Cabot sat. “He’ll contact you in ten minutes.”
Cabot didn’t care for this turn of events. “I thought we’d be meeting him in person.”
“He’s careful. I’m sure you can understand that.” Pigie smiled.
Unfortunately, he did.
Pigie took a seat on the bench next to Nagali.
“You’re staying?” Nagali slanted a suspicious look at her.
“That’s right. I’ll help you get to wherever you need to go next. These tunnels can be very confusing to people who don’t know them well. Even people familiar with them can take a wrong turn and get lost. Every now and then, we find a body in one of the deeper passages.”
How nice. Cabot wouldn’t care to be walking along, only to discover someone who had died of thirst.
“Never mind that!” Pigie waved her hands as if to dispel such mental images. “That’s why I’m here to escort you.”
“Then I count us lucky,” Cabot gave her one of his smiles.
She brightened and her flirtatious look returned. “No, I’m lucky. Imagine how boring my day would have been if you hadn’t arrived. I sometimes spend entire weeks without seeing a new face. And how boring is that?”
“Sounds very boring,” Nagali agreed. “I don’t think I’d do well at your job.”
“That’s why I make the big money,” Pigie said in a conspiratorial tone. She winked at Nagali, who chuckled.
Cabot was impressed. It wasn’t easy to win Nagali over, but Pigie seemed to be making good inroads.
Nine minutes later, by Cabot’s count, the speaker-box came alive.
The voice said, “I hear you’re looking for labor.”
“That’s right,” Cabot agreed. “A long-term relationship.”
“Why did you need four people to try to broker a deal?”
Cabot looked to Pigie, but her face gave nothing away.
He said, “We’ve been working together, of late, as a business collective. Pooling our resources. It’s served us well.”
“I see. I’ve verified your reference with Overseer Caine. Normally I don’t do this kind of business with someone I have no history with.”
“We live in strange times.” Cabot looked at the box, trying to imagine the person behind the voice. He detected a slight Zerellian accent, but that didn’t mean much. “This isn’t the first unusual deal I’ve brokered lately.”
“Strange times, indeed,” the voice agreed. “But why should I do business with you? Even with Overseer Caine’s reference, how do I know the people you’re trying to connect me to are legit?”
Cabot looked to Pigie, but she was no help. He looked then to Omar, who looked grim. Omar shook his head slowly.
Yeah, Cabot wasn’t sure of the right answer, either. When in doubt, he referred to his personal code of business practices, or rules of sale. And number thirty-eight said that the best defense was often a good offense. Sure, it wasn’t original, but it was frequently true.
“How do I know I can trust you?” he argued. “I heard your name on the wind, from a friend of a friend of a friend. No one I know is even sure if you really exist. How do I know you can produce, or will honor, a contract?”
A long pause had Cabot starting to sweat.
Finally, the voice said, “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we? I’ll expect a large down payment from your employer, eighty percent of the total price. And be warned—people who cross me don’t live to tell the tale.”
“I didn’t get where I am by burning my bridges,” Cabot said. “My employer will accept your pre-pay requirement for the first transaction. But this isn’t a person to cross, either.”
“Very well, then.” The voice sounded amused. “Pigie, please direct them to the blue room. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Yes, sir.” Pigie stood and smoothed her long tunic.
To Cabot’s surprise, she walked right by the speaker box.
“Won’t you need that?”
“No, it can stay here,” she answered. “This way, please.”
She led them deeper into the cavern, around what felt like a winding curve and through a section so narrow she had to turn sideways to make it through. Though she was only waist-high to Cabot, she was a fair bit wider than the rest of them.
She hurried along, and Cabot started to feel out of breath from following the sudden declines and sharp inclines, twists, and occasional ducking around a protruding ledge.
They approached an opening, and Cabot thought they’d hustle right by it, as they had a half dozen others, but Pigie suddenly hip checked him, knocking him sideways toward it.
“In there!” she hissed.
She followed him in and then took the lead. “This is not what you think!” She spoke loudly to reach the others, who trailed behind single file. “The blue room is where people disappear, never to be seen again. I’m getting you out, but you have to hurry.”
So many questions, so little time, and yet Cabot had increasingly less breath. He settled for asking, “Why?”
“No time,” she called back. “I work for Ditnya Caine. Armageddon day is coming early.”
Sometimes you have to make a choice without sufficient information. Cabot could either follow Pigie or refuse. But his instinct, combined with the words “Ditnya Caine” and “Armageddon day,” kept him plowing forward.
He felt the ground begin to incline more than decline, ever more as they went from narrow passage to wider tunnel to large opening and all over again. Each time it seemed they’d have some breathing room, they plunged back into a tight spot and kept going.
He couldn’t hide his breathing anymore and now openly gasped for breath. Behind him, Nagali’s audible breaths mollified him somewhat. He heard no such gasping from Omar and Peregrine, and he felt a little disgruntled about it.
If they made it out of this, he’d have to exercise more.
He recognized the madness of the thought, even as he had it. Now was hardly the time to be thinking of such things.
Finally, the passage widened ahead and Cabot saw sunlight. He’d never been so happy to see natural light.
Pigie didn’t stop, though. How could she go so fast? For
such a short, stout person, she sure seemed fit.
She pulled two devices from within her tunic. She handed one to Cabot. “Count out two minutes while I send up a message to the docking station to get your ship to the airlock.”
“Then what?” he asked.
She gave him a sidelong glance that said she questioned his IQ. “Then push it.”
She didn’t lead them along the path, but across a rough, graveled expanse that intersected with another pathway. All the while, she gave orders via her voicecom.
The two-minute mark arrived, and Cabot obediently pushed the button.
Three seconds later, he felt the ground quiver beneath his feet. He exchanged a glance with Peregrine, Omar, and Nagali.
He expected Peregrine to look angry or grim or something, but she looked…enlivened. Energized. Quite attractive, actually.
“Uhm, Pigie?” he ventured, now jogging alongside her. “What exactly did that button do?”
“Like I said. Armageddon day. Can’t you go any faster?” She seemed annoyed with him.
“I don’t think so,” he answered honestly.
“There’s a groundcar waiting half a kilometer that way.” She stabbed her finger ahead and slightly to the right. Can you hurry up for just that far?”
“I can try.” He wanted to ask more questions, but didn’t have the breath for it because she was speeding toward their getaway.
He heard some low conversation between Omar and Peregrine, but couldn’t catch the words.
The ground shook, and there was a sound. A weird sound, unlike any he’d heard before, like something huge falling a short distance but far away.
The path under his feet swayed.
Then they were at the car and piling in and without a word, the driver sped off.
Finally, he had a chance to get some answers. As soon as he caught his breath.
Peregrine, bless her, beat him to it. “What the hell was that?”
In the front seat, Pigie twisted around to look at the three seated in the back. “Taffer was going to kill you. I don’t know what Caine’s plan was, but I’ve been waiting for her signal to take down this operation, and her sending you to me must have been it. Did she not tell you we’d be taking down the caverns?”