Shadows of the Void Books 1 - 10

Generation-8

LOBA’S HEAD WAS CLEARING. Something was very, very wrong. The mythranil was wearing off. His run was coming to an end, and he hadn’t returned to bliss by following the woman. Her interruption of his vision, his requesting the copilot fly them to the surface, and their boarding the shuttle—none of it had been the effects of the drug. It had all been real.

The shuttle had landed. Loba unfastened his belt and got up unsteadily before following the geo-phys scientist to the open air lock. An icy breeze hit him as he stood on the shuttle’s ramp in the pre-dawn light. He shivered. He wasn’t dressed for such weather. He was wearing only the uniform that he wore aboard ship. What the hell was he doing here? He hadn’t set foot on an alien planet in years.

The woman was already walking away into the gloom. She was determined to show him something, but what? What could possibly be so important, so valuable, to drag your master from his bed and all the way to the mission planet?

His first impulse was to order the scientist back, return to the warmth of the shuttle’s passenger cabin, and direct the copilot to fly them back to the ship, but he considered that might not be the best path of action. The trip was already unorthodox, outside of company regulations. He would face additional scrutiny from his officers if he aborted the expedition as soon as he arrived. They would be too cautious to say anything outright, but his behavior would be rich fodder for anyone who wanted to accuse him of incompetency.

Secondly, his curiosity was piqued. Had the woman found something truly remarkable; something that really did deserve his scrutiny, and his scrutiny alone? Perhaps it was a find that would make him so rich he could buy enough mythranil to last a lifetime.

He started after the scientist. She was heading over the dunes in the direction of one of those structures Harrington had been investigating. Those places she had been getting her panties in a twist over. Misborn. Her excessive caution had been a thorn in his side this whole mission. He wouldn’t hire her again, and he’d write an unfavorable reference if anyone asked. He hoped she’d failed the mental health assessment he’d ordered the doctor to give her. The report was due in the morning. If she passed, maybe he could persuade Sparks to tweak the results. The man was usually quick to pick up on hints.

Loba caught up with the geo-phys woman. She didn’t speak as he fell into step beside her, seemingly intent on reaching the structure as quickly as possible.

“What is it you’re going to show me?” he asked. “Is it a new mineral? Or something very rare? What’s important enough to bring me here?”

When she didn’t answer, Loba’s temper rose. As always, coming down from mythranil left him fragile and moody. “I command you to tell me immediately.” He grabbed the woman’s shoulder and spun her round. She slipped on the sand and fell to her knees. Her expression unchanging, she rose to her feet.

“You have to come with me,” she said, and went on. It was all she would say, no matter how much Loba quizzed her.

They reached the structure. The pre-dawn glow faintly gilded the edges of the hexagonal blocks but didn’t penetrate the dark interior.

The woman went inside, turning on a flashlight she had brought with her. Exasperated beyond words, Loba followed, brushing the wall with his fingertips as he entered. The material was glassy, smooth, and cold. The master shivered and hoped it was warmer inside.

Within the room they’d entered was another opening. The woman immediately passed through it, and Loba followed. The next room was identical to the last, except the floor sloped downward. The woman quickly took the nearest doorway again, and again, and again. Loba could barely keep up as she led him deeper and deeper within the structure. Soon, he was completely lost. Sometimes only the beams from her flashlight told him where the woman had gone. He called out to her as they went, telling her to slow down, asking where they were going, how much farther they had to go, what they were going to see, but she never answered. He ordered her to stop, on pain of dismissal, but it was as if she didn’t hear him for all the notice she took.

Did the scientist know where she was going? The structure seemed larger than it had looked on the outside. But maybe they were now underground. Loba was very tired. Mythranil sped up the metabolism and sapped the user’s energy levels, and he hadn’t eaten his usual post-run high calorie breakfast. The cold seemed to bite his very bones. He begged the woman to stop so that he could rest. He staggered on through another few rooms. Then, before he knew it, she was gone. He was in complete darkness. He shouted for the woman. There was no answer. He was deep within the structure. He was exhausted, hypothermic, thirsty, and hungry, and he didn’t know the way out.

Loba collapsed onto his hands and knees. For a moment, the ache of his muscles distracted him from a strange tingling in his palms, but the sensation grew stronger and more unpleasant. He gasped in pain and tried to lift his hands from the floor, but he couldn’t move them. It was as if they were stuck with a strong adhesive. He pulled harder. It felt like he was pulling off his skin. He cried out in agony. His hands had somehow become melded with the floor. Loba whimpered and wept. He shouted for the woman to return to help him, for anyone to help him. His hands were on fire.

Even the edges of his sleeves were stuck to the floor. They were sinking in. His hands were sinking in, too. The floor was absorbing his hands.

“Nooooo,” screamed Loba. “Nooooo, help me, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you everything I have. Pleeeeeease.”

As his wrists and arms began to disappear, he fought and flailed, flinging his body backward and forward in an effort to free himself. He would have broken his bones, torn his own skin off, to free himself, but he could not. His writhings brought his cheek in contact with the alien surface. Immediately, his face was stuck. It also began to sink in. Jaw, then cheek disappeared. The edge of his lips reached the floor. Loba shrieked incoherently until his mouth and nose were absorbed. After that, only the muffled noise made by his slowly disappearing vocal chords could be heard.

Chapter Seven

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