My eyes flit from the lagoon’s calm waters to the vault door at the end of the pier. I’m waiting for Dev’s damaged skiff to surface, or for more guards to pour onto the dock from the base. It’s not a question of whether someone else will attack us—it’s a question of how soon and from which direction.

“Good enough,” I tell Gem at last. “Tie off the bandages and let’s go.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

The lagoon’s vault door opens for my handprint. You can’t keep a good Dakkar out, I guess. Or a bad one, since Dev was probably the last one to use it.

Pistols drawn, Gem peeks into the corridor. It’s empty. I see no one standing guard at the other end, but that doesn’t mean anything. Hostiles could be waiting in the room just beyond. The straight cylindrical passage will offer us no cover for fifty feet. Any sound we make will reverberate. Unfortunately, from where we are, this is the only way back into the base.

“Wait here, please,” Gem whispers.

Crouching like a cat, he inches into the corridor. He’s about twenty feet in when two LI students pop out from either side of the tunnel’s far exit and fire their Leyden guns. They must have been lying in ambush, but Gem is ready. A nanosecond before they pull their triggers, Gem fires his SIG Sauers. Both guards drop like sandbags. Their miniature harpoon projectiles scrape trails of sparks as they skitter harmlessly across the walls of the corridor.

I have to remind myself to breathe. I can’t decide whether I’m relieved or horrified. Did Gem just… ? No, those couldn’t have been lethal rounds. I glance behind me, but the lagoon grotto is still empty. If Gem’s gunfire didn’t alert every hostile in the base, I’m pretty sure my pounding heartbeat will.

Gem crouches lower. He moves to his left, keeping his eyes on the far exit. No one else appears from the room. He creeps forward. When he reaches the opposite end, he sweeps the area with his gun sights, then kicks the fallen guards to make sure they’re no threat.

“Clear,” he calls to me, his voice low.

I limp down the hall, my side on fire. Blood is already soaking through the bandages. When I join Gem, I look down at the guards, both of whom have nasty red welts in the middle of their foreheads. I take the name of a certain Nazarene carpenter in vain.

“Please don’t blaspheme,” Gem says automatically. “I used rubber ammo. They might have nasty headaches when they wake up, but they won’t die.”

“How are you not in shock?” I ask.

“I’ve been in shock for days,” he whispers, then points to the next corridor. “Aren’t the security monitors in the room just ahead?”