by Jayne Castle
"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?"<
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"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."
There was some smothered laughter from the others.
Rage flashed in Webber's eyes, but he managed to keep his expression stone-faced.
"I think that's enough, Lyra," Cruz said. "Would you mind opening the chamber?"
"Sure," she said.
She slid the pack off her back and took a pair of dark glasses out of a side pocket. Slipping the glasses onto her nose, she walked directly up to the lightning-filled entrance. The shades dimmed the bright energy to the point where she could look at it directly.
She put her hand on the amethyst wall close to the opening and heightened her senses. The stone warmed under her hand. Vincent chortled in excitement and bounced up and down, delighting in the game.
Energy surged through Lyra, thrilling her all the way to her toes. Her hair stood straight out on end, forming a wild halo around her face. Her shirt lifted a little away from her skin as though caught by a storm wind. She suddenly wanted to fly. She was on fire with power, intoxicated with it. For a tuner, there was nothing like the rush of really hot amber.
But she was also a professional. A lot of people had a low opinion of tuners, but she took pride in being an expert. And when it came to amethyst, nobody worked stone better.
She forced herself to concentrate and began to search for the pattern of the wildly oscillating currents. She found it almost at once. Vincent vibrated with excitement. He was always up for a little psychic thrill. His hunting eyes opened again.
She identified the frequencies needed to control the forces of the lightning that locked the door and sent out counteracting wavelengths, pushing her own energy through the amber charms on her bracelet. The purple lightning flashed even hotter for a moment and then quickly faded. With a few final sparks and crackles and hisses, it subsided altogether.
Her hair tumbled back down around her face, and her clothes settled on her body. The heady sensation of power evaporated.
For few seconds there was stunned silence behind her. Everyone crowded closer, trying to peer through the entrance of the chamber. Purple light glowed from the interior of the ruin.
Five people appeared in the de-rezzed opening, all wearing varying expressions of amazement and relief.
A cheer went up from the group gathered around Lyra.
"They're okay," someone shouted.
One of the ghost hunters walked out first, probably testing to be certain that there would be no surprises for the others. He looked at Lyra.
"Appreciate it, ma'am," he said. "The Guild owes you."
"No," Cruz said. "Amber Inc. owes this favor."
Another man emerged from the chamber. He was in his midthirties, tall and powerfully built, with the sort of rugged features, macho attitude, and short haircut that just screamed cop or private security. He looked first at Cruz.
"Mr. Sweetwater," he said. "Sorry about this."
"It's not your fault, Garrett," Cruz said. "Hell, it's an alien ruin. There's always a surprise of some kind. Miss Dore, here, is the one who opened the chamber. Lyra, this is Garrett Flagg, head of lab security."
"Mr. Flagg." Lyra inclined her head politely.
"Miss Dore." Flagg nodded once, serious and intent. "Sure didn't expect you to come to the rescue tonight, not after what went down between you and the company. But I'm damn grateful. I owe you. If there's ever anything you need from me, just pick up the phone."
"Thank you," Lyra said. She looked at Cruz. "There is one thing I'd like to do before I leave tonight."
"Name it," Cruz said.
"I want to take one more look around inside the chamber," she said.
Flagg frowned uneasily. "Sorry, Miss Dore, but no unauthorized personnel are allowed inside. Access to the interior of the chamber is strictly controlled."
"By Amber Inc.," Cruz said. "As the CEO of the security division, I'm in charge of operations down here. Miss Dore can enter the chamber. I will escort her inside, myself."
"Don't worry," Lyra said, rezzing up another dazzling smile for both men. She was feeling the aftereffects of the highly charged amethyst energy that had been rushing through her moments ago, still feeling reckless. "I'm not going to steal anything."
Cruz gave her a patient look. "I know that."
They waited until the last member of the trapped team had emerged from the chamber and thanked Lyra. Then Cruz waved her inside. He followed, watching her with an unreadable expression.
Another buzz of energy, much lower in volume this time, whispered through her when she walked to the center of the chamber. The interior walls, floor, and ceiling glowed with a muted purple light, just as she remembered. But all of the small relics of carved amethyst amber that had been stacked around the edges of the room were gone.
She turned slowly on her heel, surveying the scene. "What did you do with the stones?"
"They've all been removed and taken to the lab," Cruz said. "Where, as I'm sure you know, we haven't been able to rez a single damn one of them."
"Hence all the nasty phone calls I've been getting from Webber."
"I knew he had tried to contact you," Cruz said. "I wasn't aware that he had been rude. I'll make sure that doesn't happen again."
"Well, it wasn't like I was being polite to him, either," she allowed. "I told you, I never returned any of his calls."
Cruz studied her with an unreadable expression.
"The ability to work unusual forms of amber is rare," he said finally. "We could really use your talent at the lab. You would be well-paid."
"Sorry, no."
He shook his head, amused. "You are one stubborn woman."
"It's the principle of the thing."
"I think it's got more to do with the fact that you're a Dore and I'm a Sweetwater."
"That, too," she admitted.
"You know, we don't have to keep fighting our grandfathers' feud."
"We're not fighting it." She went toward the door. "Your grandfather won, remember?"
"Damn it, Lyra—"
"I'd like to go home now, if you don't mind. It has been a very long night."
"One more thing."
She stopped, turning. "Yes?"
"It isn't just old-fashioned Dore stubbornness that is making you refuse to assist my research staff with the experiments, is it
?" Cruz walked toward her. "You know or suspect something very important about this ruin and the artifacts we took out of it. I need to know whatever it is you're keeping secret, Lyra."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Yes," he said, "you do. And eventually you're going to tell me. But it can wait."
She managed another sparkling smile. "You're right. It can wait. Forever."
Chapter 5
THE FIRST LIGHT OF DAWN HAD BARELY BEGUN TO REPLACE the green glow of the Dead City walls by the time Cruz brought the Slider to a halt in front of the apartment building. He could feel Lyra's exhaustion. Her head was resting against the back of the seat. Her eyes were closed. The psychic lift that came from being underground had faded. So had the exhilaration created by the bio-cocktail that had exploded through her bloodstream when she had worked the exotic amber. He knew the sensation well. Energy was energy, whether it took a normal or paranormal form. Using a lot of it gave you a rush, but later you paid a price.
"You need sleep," he said.
"I know." She opened her eyes and glanced at her watch. "If I go straight to bed, I can get in a couple of hours before my Harmonic Meditation class."
Vincent was perched on the seat above her shoulder. His floppy painter's beret was still on his head. Of the three of them, he was the only one who showed no indications of having been through a long night. Cruz patted the top of the red beret.
"Perky as ever, buddy, aren't you?" he said.
Vincent mumbled cheerfully.
Cruz opened the driver's side door and climbed out. Lyra had her own door open, Vincent tucked under one arm, and was heading for the lobby entrance by the time he got around the front of the car. Stubborn Dore.
She dug out her key. "It's okay," she said, yawning a little. "You don't have to see me upstairs."
"Yes," Cruz said, "I do."
She shrugged. "Whatever. Believe it or not, I'm too tired to argue with you."
"I'll treasure the moment."
They got into the elevator. When the doors slid open on the fourth floor, he followed her down the hall to her apartment. There he waited again while she let herself inside and turned on a light.