Talina made one last pass. The dome, the outbuildings, the overgrown confusion of crops in the garden patch, all seemed to be in order. An old generator, a couple of shipping containers, and the elevated cistern appeared normal. She couldn’t see any threats, no heat signatures that would indicate a quetzal or bem.

“Let’s see what we’ve got. Keep an eye peeled, and holler if you see anything that looks suspicious.”

Dek laughed bitterly. “As if I’d know.”

“Your quetzal sense will warn you. Trust it.”

Talina settled them over what had been the landing pad—a flat of dark stone marked by patches of soil. She took a moment to scan all the way around, her IR and UV adding to her assurance that no danger lurked in the shadows. But for a column of buzzing invertebrates that swarmed in the air just behind the solar collector mast, she saw nothing between her and the forest.

Talina eased the car to the ground and let the fans spin down. Only then did she pull her rifle from the rack, flick the safety off, and swing her feet over the side.

The chime filled the air, higher in tone, more melodic and lilting than that around Port Authority. She sniffed for any hint of vinegar that might indicate a BEM or spike, but the air smelled of saffron and cloves. From the other side of the cliff just downriver, the twin waterfalls made a constant low roar. Streamers of mist rose from the canyon depths. Capella’s light danced through them like fingers of living rainbow.

Talina checked the ground, assuring herself that the patches of soil weren’t deep enough to hide a slug, and better yet, the plants that had taken root there were all terrestrial species of cilantro, parsley, and some low flower that might have been a clover.

Dek winced as he leaned forward in the seat and pulled his ornate Holland & Holland rifle from the rack. He seemed to be having issues, his movements awkward, gaze unfocused.

“Dek? Can you stay in the car? Let me check it out?”

“Yeah, right.” His eyes fixed on infinity, his fingers playing along the rifle’s wood.

For a second she paused, wondering if she should take the weapon away from him. No. Not on Donovan. Any risk that he might hurt himself or the aircar was balanced by the knowledge that at any moment, some marauding quetzal might charge out of the forest, or who knew what other threat might appear?

Talina muttered under her breath, asking Rocket, “What do you sense, old buddy?”

“Strangers. Not recent.”

Down in her belly, Demon hissed in agreement.

“Okay, so quetzals have been here, but not for some time.” She scanned the sky, fully aware that this was mobber country. All that she saw was a distant band of scarlet fliers, and here and there one of the really large invertebrates hovered over the treetops.