Subterranean

THIRTY-FOUR

ASHLEY WAS SURE HER SON WAS FINE. HE HAD TO BE. SHE put down her pen. All day she had been working in umbo's chamber, trying to keep her hands busy and her mind distracted. Cataloging, measuring, recording notes in her logbook.

She glanced at her watch. It was already late evening. Ben should be heading back by now. What if he didn't have any word of Jason? Or worse, what if he never came back? How much longer could she wait before this tension drove her mad?

Sighing, she sat back and stared across the chamber at the dozing figure of Mo'amba, seated with his eyes closed. He was her only guard. The others had been sent away. His word was obeyed without question.

She eyed the black wormhole through which Ben had disappeared. She could make a break for it. If Mo'amba was truly napping, then perhaps… She shook her head. It was a long crawl. They would surely catch her. Besides, she couldn't abandon Michaelson. Even if by some miracle she did manage to escape, he'd be killed in her place.

Suddenly, Mo'amba's eyes snapped open and he stared at her. He struggled to his feet, but his hours of sitting seemed to cramp him. Ashley crossed over and helped him up.

He eyed the opening to the chamber that led to the village.

"What is it?" she asked.

He placed a hand over her mouth for silence, then waved for her to follow. Using his staff as a crutch, he hobbled through the entrance and pulled her into a shadowed alcove just across the tunnel.

What was going on? But she did not have long to wait. The soft scrape of leather on stone could be heard approaching down the tunnel. Someone was coming. But who?

She squinted down the feebly lit tunnel until Mo'amba pulled her back into the shadows. She waited, holding her breath. From the sound of the approaching footsteps, more than one person approached.

Pressing farther back into the dark alcove, the party slipped past her hiding place and entered umbo's chamber. She swallowed back a hiss as she recognized the bony physique of one of them. It was Sin'jari.

The other two were the exact opposite of Sin'jari. Where he was tall and bony, they were hunched and thick with muscle. But there was no question who was the boss here. A mere frown from Sin'jari would cause the offending party to cringe. And there was a lot of cringing. From the gesturing and sharp commands, it was apparent Sin'jari was giving orders that were only reluctantly being obeyed.

Finally, with a bark from their boss, the two bull-necked brutes ducked their heads and crept into the wormhole that led to Alpha Cavern.

What was going on? Ashley could not understand a word that was being spoken, but Mo'amba apparently did. She could feel him tensing beside her, actually quivering with suppressed emotion. His tension was contagious. She found herself clenching her fists. Sin'jari was up to something nefarious, something meant to harm her group.

Suddenly, Mo'amba burst from the alcove, startling her. She darted after him as he hobbled into umbo's chamber. Sin'jari swung around with his mouth open, stunned and wide-eyed.

Mo'amba crossed to stand almost toe-to-toe with Sin'jari. He stamped his staff so hard splinters flew from its tip. Sin'jari took a step back, obviously flabbergasted by the sudden appearance of his nemesis.

Ashley stood to the side as heated words flowed from Mo'amba. Now it was Sin'jari's turn to cringe. He seemed to fold himself inward as Mo'amba's words assailed him. But where Sin'jari's lackeys had fear in their eyes, Sin'jari's pupils were slitted with menace. From Ashley's vantage, she could see his hand edging toward the knife at his belt.

She opened her mouth to warn Mo'amba, but words caught in her throat. How could she warn him? She couldn't speak a word of their language. She watched as Sin'jari's fingers closed on the knife. Mo'amba was a prominent leader. Surely, Sin'jari wouldn't dare…

Without warning, Sin'jari lashed out, driving the long diamond dagger into Mo'amba's chest. The knife cut Mo'amba's angry tirade. The old mimi'swee looked down at the hilt protruding from his chest as if analyzing an intriguing bug. He coughed once, a dribble of blood appearing on his lips.

Ashley, frozen with shock, finally screamed as Sin'jari yanked the dagger free, then plunged it a second time into Mo'amba's chest. The old man stumbled backward, pulling himself off the blade.

Sin'jari raised the dagger again, meaning to strike at Mo'amba's throat, but by now Ashley was upon him. She snapped a boot heel into the attacker's ribs, knocking him aside. As he stumbled to catch his balance, she positioned herself in front of Mo'amba. The old man had by now slumped to the floor. Blood flowed from between his fingers as he clutched his chest.

Sin'jari turned to her.

"Get the fuck away, you bastard!" she screamed.

He rubbed his bruised rib with one hand while toying with the blade with the other. His smile was all teeth and no warmth. He had the blade, she didn't.

She eyed the fallen staff that Mo'amba had dropped.

Sin'jari didn't give her a chance to formulate a plan. He lunged at her. But years of karate training and four older brothers had honed her reflexes. She twisted to the side, grabbing Sin'jari's wrist as his lunge missed her. Pivoting on her foot, she used her hip and Sin'jari's momentum to flip the bastard to the floor. The snap of cracking bone brought a smile to her lips. His knife skittered uselessly across the rock.

In two steps, she had the dagger in hand. Now let's see what the bastard thinks with the tables turned, she thought. Sin'jari had already scrabbled away, cradling his left arm. He backed from her to the other side of the chamber, obviously giving up the fight.

While keeping a wary eye on Sin'jari, she crossed to Mo'amba, who now lay sprawled on his back, his chest heaving in gurgling breaths. He seemed to be staring blindly at the ceiling. In shock.

He needed immediate help. But how?

She jumped as Sin'jari suddenly stood up. She pointed the knife at him, but he didn't approach. He slinked, instead, toward the wormhole. With a final sneer at her, he darted into the wormhole and disappeared.

Just as he vanished, she heard the sound of many feet approaching down the tunnel. Thank god help was coming.

She turned just as the first of the warriors burst into the chamber, spears pointing forward. A keening wail arose from them as they spotted the bloody figure of Mo'amba sprawled across the floor. Almost in unison, the angry and accusing eyes of the hunters turned on her.

She looked down at the bloody dagger still in her hand. Damn.

"Calm down," Ben said as he grabbed Nob'cobi's waving hands. He had been trying to make sense of Nob'cobi's frantic gestures and guttural words but was making no headway. His efforts had only succeeded in frustrating both of them.

Ben glanced toward Sandy. She had backed away into a far corner of Blakely's office, cringing. No help there.

He released Nob'cobi's hands. If only Harry would come… he knew their language.

Suddenly Nob'cobi reached over and touched Ben's forehead with a single finger, then touched his own. Ben stared at him blankly. The tiny hunter repeated the gesture, irritation starting to crinkle his eyes.

In another moment, Ben understood. Nob'cobi wanted him to communicate with his heri'huti skills. The hunter couldn't initiate the contact himself since he wasn't of the proper blood, but Ben could. Like back in the wormhole.

Ben nodded his understanding and gestured for Nob'cobi to sit on the couch. Nob'cobi eyed the leather sofa suspiciously and instead just sat cross-legged on the floor. Ben shrugged and did the same, facing the mimi'swee hunter.

Closing his eyes, Ben willed his breathing to slow, striving to calm his agitated mind. He pictured relaxing on the back porch of his father's sheep station with a warm beer and a lazy day ahead.

Suddenly Sandy burst out, "What are you doing?"

Frowning, Ben held up a hand but kept his eyes closed. "It's okay, Sandy. I need you to be quiet for a minute."

"But-"

"Shhh. Just relax." His words, dreamy, were directed at both her and himself. Relax.

He could hear her grumble under her breath, but he ignored her and sipped his tepid Foster's from a dusty bottle while tipping back his chair in the corner of the porch. He thought of Nob'cobi, picturing the little fellow's flat-nosed face and spindly neck. Suddenly, the hunter appeared next to Ben, seated on another chair.

Nob'cobi stared slack-jawed around him. He stood up and leaned on the porch railing, gawking up at the wide sky, not a cloud from horizon to horizon. He seemed to cower a bit, then turned his back on the view to face Ben. "It's… it's so big." He shuddered.

Ben felt a little sorry thrusting the poor man into such a foreign landscape, but Mo'amba had done the same with him. Besides, he missed the ranch. "Don't worry, Nob'cobi. It's not the size that counts."

"What?"

"Never mind. Bad joke." Ben took another swig of his beer. Hell if it didn't taste bloody real. "Now, what were you trying to tell me?"

Nob'cobi took a nervous swallow, one eye darting behind him. "I heard a strange noise in the cave. Like nothing I had heard before."

"What did it sound like?"

Nob'cobi scrunched up his face and repeated the sound he heard. It sounded like a tune or something. And it sounded familiar.

"Do that again." Ben concentrated as he listened, eyes closed. Where had he heard that? His eyes sprang open, and he sat up straight. Christ, it's that damned jingle from Jason's Nintendo game! He'd heard the infuriating thing a thousand times during the trek here.

"Where did you hear that?" Ben blurted.

"I went to look. To see what was making that sound. But I almost ran into that crak'an that's been hounding us. The smart one. He was following the sound too."

"Blast!" Ben pushed out of the dream, scattering it into colored shreds, until he was facing Nob'cobi again in Blakely's office. He shoved to his feet. Nob'cobi followed.

"Sandy, stay here," Ben said, as he slammed another clip in his gun. "Lock the door. If we come knocking, open the door in a hurry."

She nodded and followed him down the hall. "What's going on?"

"I don't have time to explain." He pushed through the door to the reception area. "Lock it and be quiet."

He heard the door slam behind him and a deadbolt click. He turned to Nob'cobi. "Now show me where that sound was coming from."

The hunter stared at him blankly. Hell, this was not the time for another communication gap. Ben imitated the tune and pretended to look around, then shrugged.

Nob'cobi nodded and pointed out the door, taking the lead.

Ben clenched his pistol in a white-knuckled grip and followed. If he was too late? He shook his head. He wouldn't be.

He followed Nob'cobi back outside. Just as they turned the corner, Harry suddenly appeared before them. Startled, Ben came within a hair of plugging the man with a bullet.

"You made it," Harry said, winded and sweating through his tattered fatigues. "Let's get the statue and get out of here. The other hunters are still leading that pod of crak'an on a wild goose chase, but they can't keep it up much longer. We need to-"

Ben held up a hand. "I got it already."

"Great!"

"But we've got a new problem. We need to hurry." Ben motioned Nob'cobi ahead as he gave Harry a thumbnail account of the situation.

Harry followed. "So you think that's Ashley's kid?"

Ben nodded.

"Shit. Bad time to be playing a video game."

Nob'cobi signaled them to be quiet and waved Harry next to him. He whispered something in his ear. Harry grimaced and backed next to Ben. In a hushed voice, he translated. "This is where Nob'cobi spotted Tiny Tim. The music came from just around the next collapsed building."

Ben nodded. This time he made sure he placed each foot on solid rock before proceeding. He didn't want to repeat the previous blunder that had attracted the pod's attention. The group crept silently, edging past a demolished mess tent, its pots and pans strewn across the rocky floor.

After a minute of creeping, the now-familiar sound of claw on rock and snuffling of something large could be heard from up ahead. Nob'cobi, who was a few yards in front of Ben and Harry, peered around the edge of a pile of shredded lumber into the clearing beyond. Suddenly, he popped back, flattening himself against the corner. He signaled them to freeze.

Ben watched as the beast's thick tail swung into view ahead, sweeping aside a few stray pots. Their clattering was painfully loud in the silence of the dead camp. The tail then disappeared from view.

Nob'cobi waved them slowly forward. Ben crept up first and inched just enough around the corner to peer into the clearing ahead.

Its back was to him, tail slashing back and forth. He could see its head flicking from left to right as it examined something in front of it, snorting loudly. Then it shuffled to the side to get another vantage in which to examine its prey.

Ben suppressed a gasp. As the large creature moved, it revealed its intended target. Jason was roped to one of the columns, the boy's eyes wide with terror. But the crak'an just circled around the column, snorting and snuffling, obviously baffled as to why its prey wasn't running. Like a cat, Ben thought, it wasn't used to a meal just sitting there.

Ben slipped back around and allowed Harry a peek before speaking. He whispered in Harry's ear. "I need you to lure the bastard away. Like you did the others. Give me a chance to free Jason and get him to safety. We'll meet back at Blakely's office."

Harry nodded.

"But be careful," Ben warned. "This bastard's a tricky one."

Harry huddled a moment with Nob'cobi. Then the two slipped away to circle east a bit, to draw its attention away from Ben's hiding place.

Ben waited as they maneuvered into position, holding his breath, praying that he wouldn't all of a sudden hear a scream from Jason. The creature wouldn't wait forever. Eventually the novelty would wear thin and it would attack.

Tensed, muscles quivering with anticipation, Ben jumped at the sudden eruption of clanking pots and pans from just east of his position. Harry and Nob'cobi. It was about time. He risked peeking around the corner to see the commotion's effect on the crak'an.

It stood there frozen, its ears cocked back to listen, then slowly swung its head in the direction of the noise. It took a few steps toward the sound, then stopped and glanced back at Jason strapped to the pillar. It wasn't going to take the bait. At least not before nailing its easy prey. It took a step back toward Jason.

Goddamn you! Ben raised his pistol. Before Ben could shoot, Harry jumped into the clearing with two dented pots in his hands.

He hollered at it. "Hey there, big fellow, how about a little action?" To punctuate his statement, he slammed the pots together.

The voice and clank got its attention. With a roar, it swung back in Harry's direction. The quickness of the beast seemed to catch Harry off guard. He stumbled a step backward, almost falling. Ben clenched his teeth. Move it, soldier! Harry seemed to hear his silent command and dashed back into the alley.

The fleeing man was too much temptation for the monster. It scrabbled after Harry, disappearing down the alley.

Ben didn't wait. As soon as the tip of its tail vanished, he dashed into the clearing. Toward the boy.

Tears trailed down Jason's soot-blackened features. The boy still stared in the direction of the disappearing beast. Thank god he seemed otherwise unharmed.

Ben ran toward him. The scuffing of Ben's boots on rock drew Jason's attention. A fleeting look of terror crossed his features before he seemed to recognize Ben. Then fresh tears flowed.

Ben reached him in seconds. He hugged him hard in the ropes, pulling the gag free, wondering who the hell had bound and gagged the boy. But now wasn't the time for questions. Jason shook with sobs. "You're okay now, son. You're safe."

But Jason kept on sobbing, trying to get words out between choking sobs. "I… tried to… tried to call you… with my game." He dropped the toy still held in his hands, and it clattered to the stone.

"You did good." Ben crouched down, pulled out a knife, and attacked the ropes.

"My… my mom… is she okay?"

"She's fine. She's somewhere safe."

Suddenly, Jason jerked in the loosening ropes. Ben could barely get the boy's hands untied with him squirming so much. He finally succeeded.

"Stay still for a sec. Let me get that last rope from around you."

"I need to see!" Jason seemed frantic.

"What?"

Jason lifted up his untucked shirt. For the first time, Ben noticed the glowing LED readout on Jason's belt buckle. The number 6 glowed back at him.

Jason looked down, then moaned.

"What's that?"

"It's a bomb," he said, a desperate look in his eyes.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Jason pointed out the gray squares of plastique hooked to the belt. "Khalid put it on me. To control Linda. It's set to go off in six minutes."

"Then let's get it off you." He reached for the boy with the knife.

Jason backed away. "If it's removed, it'll go off. Only the secret code will release it."

"Who knows the code?"

"Khalid… and he's out there somewhere setting other bombs."

The goddamn bastard. If I get my hands on him… "Well, there's got to be a way to disarm it. Maybe Harry… he's a demolitions expert." Ben covered his face with his hands. Bloody hell. How was he going to get him back here in time? They weren't supposed to rendezvous back at Blakely's office for another half hour. He clenched his fists and pressed them against his temple. Goddamn it man, think!

Ben stared as the LED number dissolved from a 6 to a 5.

Ashley plopped down on the pillow in her small cave. Once again she was confined to her cell. Three guards stood at the threshold, diamond blades glinting in the fungal glow. She had tried through both pantomime and repeating Sin'jari's name to communicate her innocence in the attack on Mo'amba, but it was futile. Her only witness, Mo'amba, was near death.

A commotion at the entrance to her cell drew her attention. She watched as Michaelson was shoved past the guards. He stumbled on his weak ankle but caught his balance.

"Fuckers took my guns," he said as he crossed over to her. "All of them. What's going on?"

"Sorry, it was my fault," she said, standing up, her muscles still tense with frustration. "I was at the wrong place at the wrong time." She told him the story of Sin'jari's attack on Mo'amba, and the result of her interference. "I was caught with a smoking gun, so to speak. Mo'amba was found stabbed in the chest with me standing over him, the murder weapon in my hand. Can you blame them?"

"What's going to happen?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I think everyone's more concerned about Mo'amba at the moment."

"Do you think the old guy has any chance of surviving?"

Ashley shook her head. "Doubtful. He lost a lot of blood. And with his mental abilities, if he was able, he'd be blowing the whistle on Sin'jari himself-telepathically on all wavelengths. For him to be remaining so silent, he's got to be nearly brain-dead. And if he dies, I don't think either one of us has much chance of living, regardless of whether or not Ben makes the deadline."

Michaelson glanced at his watch. "Ben has less than eight hours."

Sighing, she said, "Now I'm hoping he doesn't return. As angry as those tribesmen are, I think even if he returns with the statue, they'll just execute him along with us. It'd be best if he just stays away."

"He won't."

"I know." She sat back down on a pillow and waved Michaelson to do the same. "If only there was a way to warn him. To tell Harry and Ben not to come back."

"There's no way. Come hell or high water, Ben will return for you."

She smacked her knee with a fist. "Then I've got to find some way to let the village know about Sin'jari. Some way to communicate. But they won't even try to listen. Their judgment is too clouded with anger."

"Maybe Harry will return with Ben before Mo'amba dies. He could translate your story."

"Even if he did, do you think they'd believe us? Sin'jari is one of their elders. It would be his word against mine."

"Then we'll need evidence. What do you think the bastard was up to anyway?"

"No good, that's for sure. I think he means to interfere with Ben's mission. Thwart it in some way."

"If we could prove that, then that would go a long way to support your claim."

"But how?" she asked, exasperated.

"Catch him red-handed when he returns. The only easy route back to the village from Alpha Cavern is through that wormhole. If he went up that way, he'll sneak back that way."

"And how do you propose to catch him locked up in this cell?"

He shrugged. "Hey, I don't have all the answers."

She shook her head at the uselessness of their reverie. "Still, this all depends on Mo'amba surviving until Ben and Harry return. If he should-"

A keening wail erupted from the guards at the door. A cry that also echoed from the village around them, piercing the stone walls like paper, the pitch so high it caused the hairs to stand on Ashley's arms.

Michaelson covered his ears, eyes squinting at the noise.

As suddenly as it started, the wailing ceased. The sudden silence felt huge and empty, as if something vital had been removed from the air.

Ashley saw one of the guards look in her direction. Under his bony brow, tears were in his eyes, and something else too-hatred.

"What was that all about?" Michaelson asked.

"We just ran out of time. Mo'amba's dead."

Ben was just starting to stand when it hit. Like an explosion between his ears. He stumbled back to his knees. At first, he thought some bomb must have detonated, like the one attached to Jason's waist, but when he pried his eyes open, Jason was just staring at him with a quizzical look.

"Are you okay?" the boy asked, seemingly unaware of what had just transpired.

Ben nodded. "I think so…" Then the world went black.

What the hell? He struggled but seemed to be floating in a space without stars, nothing to push against, nothing to fight. He was not unconscious, just surrounded by an infinite blackness. Then a single dull ember appeared, glowing in the darkness ahead. As he concentrated on this landmark, like some distant beacon, the glow intensified to a bright flame. It spoke, vibrating with each word, in his grandfather's voice. "… Ben… Ben… you must… hurry…"

By now, Ben could recognize one of Mo'amba's callings. But now was not the time. "What is it? What's wrong? Is Ashley okay?"

"… weak… tired…" The flame died again to only a feeble flicker. "… must hurry…" It flickered bright for a heartbeat. "Danger…" Then it faded, first back to a dull glow, then to nothing. And in the darkness, Ben felt an emptiness. Somehow he knew that Mo'amba had not just broken contact but was gone. Gone for good. As the world reappeared around him, he found tears trailing down his cheek.

"Ben, what's wrong?" Jason was shaking his shoulder.

He pushed off the stone floor where he had collapsed. Mo'amba was dead. He knew this as sure as he knew his father's name. "I'm okay," he answered the boy.

"You fainted."

"Don't worry, I'm fine." He patted the boy's knee, while pondering the meaning of Mo'amba's final urgent message. He had wanted Ben to return immediately. Not to waste any more time. But what was the hurry? Ben still had seven hours before his deadline. Something must be up. A new danger.

Jason looked at him with concern but didn't speak.

Ben glanced at the timer on the boy's belt. The number five still glowed on the panel. Hurry, Mo'amba had urged. No kidding. He needed a plan. A way to contact Harry. Get him back here to defuse the bomb.

Then it dawned on him… Hell, why didn't he think of this earlier?

He did have a means of contacting Harry. Well, at least Nob'cobi, who could then tell Harry to get his butt back here. Mo'amba's calling reminded him. He could do the same. He had never tried it at such a distance… and it was doubtful that Nob'cobi was in a relaxed trance state, susceptible to his calling, but it was possible. Mo'amba had done it to him before. He had to try.

"Jason, I know this is gonna seem bloody bonkers, but I'm gonna need to concentrate. I need you to stay quiet."

"Okay, but what-"

"Shhh. Later." Ben sat down cross-legged, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He again pictured his childhood home outside Perth. The orange dust. The 'roos in the distance. Home.

He sat in a creaking chair on the porch again, not bothering with a beer this time. Instead he concentrated fiercely on Nob'cobi's image, visualizing the hunter sitting next to him. He filled in the details of the hunter's features. The scar across his cheek, the graying patch of fur at the top of his head. As he concentrated, the image flickered into reality for a heartbeat. Nob'cobi's surprised face turned to him, then winked back out.

Damn it! Ben concentrated again. C'mon, Nob'cobi, you saw me there for a second. You know what I want. He pressed forward again. C'mon, listen to me. Nothing. He persisted for what seemed like several wasted minutes. Minutes he didn't have.

Just before he was ready to scream in frustration and give up, Nob'cobi appeared. He seemed winded. "What do you want?" he growled at Ben. "I almost tripped and fell with that first call. You're supposed to-"

"Enough! I need Harry back here. Now!"

"Well, we're heading back that way. That crak'an must have it in for you. It gave up chasing us and turned back your way. Are you cleared out of there yet?"

"No. We've got a problem. I need Harry and you to forget about Tiny Tim and meet me back at the office. Run as fast as you can."

"You better do the same. That crak'an is coming your way fast."

"Hurry." But Nob'cobi had already vanished.

Ben pushed back out of his dream state and found Jason staring at him.

"What are you doing?"

"It's a long story," he said scrambling up. "We've got company coming." With a relieved sigh, he noticed Jason's LED readout showed a 4. Time moved oddly in the dreaming place. It seemed like he was there a lot longer than a mere moment. "Can you run?"

Jason shifted from foot to foot, obviously full of nervous energy. "Oh, yeah."

"Then come on." Ben grabbed his hand and hurried away, just as he made out the sound of Tiny Tim scrabbling toward them from the other direction. He increased the pace to a vigorous run. The office was barely a hundred yards away. He reached it with Jason in tow in less than a minute. The readout on the belt changed from 4 to 3 just as he pushed through into the trashed reception area. Now just bloody hurry, Harry.

Ben crossed to the door leading to the building's offices and knocked. "It's Ben," he called. He heard the deadbolt being released; the door swung open.

Sandy's worried face peered out. She spotted Jason and her eyes widened. "You found the boy!" She rushed out and scooped him up in a hug as if he were some sort of life preserver.

Then a voice behind him. "So what's the big rush?" Harry stumbled into the reception area. Nob'cobi stepped carefully in behind him.

Ben noticed Jason's eyes widen with surprise at his first glimpse of the mimi'swee.

Ben grabbed Harry's shoulder and pulled him forward. "Jason's rigged with explosives. We only have a couple minutes before it blows. I need you to defuse it."

"What the hell?" Harry said, crossing to Jason. "Let me see."

At Ben's words, Sandy had released Jason as if he carried the plague and backed away into the hallway.

Jason pointed to the belt, but kept looking over Harry's shoulder at Nob'cobi as Harry knelt down beside him. The number 2 glowed red. Gingerly, Harry fingered the device, having Jason spin around so he could examine the entire belt. "Hmmm," was all he said.

"Well?" Ben asked.

"I've seen this work before. All ready-made. The triggering device is housed in this little tin box. Even if we had time and tools, I can't get to it without significant risk. Without the code, this baby is gonna blow."

"Goddamn it!" Ben blurted. "Then we're screwed."

Harry shrugged and reached up for the clasp of the belt, triggering an alarmed "Don't!" from Jason. Harry ignored him and yanked it open. The belt merely parted and fell free from his waist. Harry stood up, holding the belt away from him as if it were some snake.

Jason tumbled away. "It was supposed to explode if you took it off."

"Who told you that?" Harry asked.

"Khalid."

"He was lying. There's no circuit around the belt."

Jason stood there trembling. "Then I… I could have taken that off… anytime." Ben noticed the boy seemed more disturbed by this fact than by the fact that he had been about to be blown up.

Harry nodded. "Yep. Now if you don't mind"-he pointed at the number 1 glowing on the belt-"this thing's still going to explode."

Ben snatched the belt from Harry. "Everyone to the back of the building. I'm gonna toss this baby as far as I can. Then run like hell."

Harry herded everyone into the hall as Ben headed for the door. From behind him, Harry called, "Don't throw like a girl. There's a shitload of plastic hooked to that belt."

"Just get everyone to the far side of the building!" Ben dashed out the door. He sprinted several feet away from the building to get a clear path to lob the belt. As he raised his arm, the beast pounced at him.

From a mere ten feet away, the wounded crak'an leaped in front of him, head low, hissing with cold menace. It blocked the entire way forward.

Ben scrambled for his pistol, but his hand came back empty. He had left the gun in the building. Ben backed up a few steps.

Tiny Tim opened its jaws wide and howled at him in triumph.

"Fuck you!" Ben whipped the belt toward the open maw, then spun on his heel and ran for the safety of the building. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw the beast paw at its mouth, trying to dislodge the belt.

Bastard, you just bit off more than you can chew.

Ben flew through the demolished front door and dived for the hallway. Just as he reached the threshold, the explosion ripped the world apart behind him. The force of the explosion grabbed him and threw him down the hall.

He did his best to roll when he hit, but something snapped as he collided with the hallway floor. Debris rained upon him as he lay sprawled in the hallway. A choking smoke quickly followed.

Jason appeared at his side. "Ben, are you okay?"

In answer, he just groaned.

Harry knelt down. "Let me take a look at him."

Ben pushed to his hands and knees, coughing smoke from his throat. Pain flared at the base of his neck. His shoulder felt dislocated, but he'd live.

Ben glanced up to Jason's concerned face. "When we get out of this, I'm buying you a pair of suspenders. No more belts."

When the explosion occurred, Khalid saw Linda's spirit die. It was in her eyes. She had been fumbling with the last timer, obviously trying not to look at her watch constantly as Jason's time ran low. In her hurry, she had crossed two wires wrong and almost mistakenly activated the detonator. He had been correcting her mistake when the explosion roared from across the base.

As the echo faded around them, Linda just looked at Khalid.

"There just wasn't enough time," Khalid said, though truthfully he'd never intended to rescue the boy. Khalid studied her, expecting her to rage against him, to cry and scream. But no. She just stared at him, a cold deadness in her eyes. A woman who had given up.

Good. He didn't need her to fall apart on him now. She was learning. Expediency. The desert sun burned those who moved slowly. He shook his head. "Let's finish up here."

She turned and stared across the base to the cloud of smoke from the explosion. "It didn't work," she said dully.

He put down the tiny screwdriver. "What?"

She pointed, her arm leaden. "The column… Jason was tied to. It's still intact."

He straightened up and stared. She was right. It seemed totally undamaged. How was that possible?

He studied the drifting smoke. Something was wrong. The explosion had occurred slightly west of the column. "The boy must have gotten free of the ropes. Moved away from the column."

His words seemed to ignite a moment of hope in her bearing, but then she sagged, seeming to realize that, free of the column or not, the explosion had occurred.

"Let's go," Khalid ordered.

She didn't argue as she was led away.