The scientist had offered to update them on the creature’s progress, but the little organism had reproduced much faster than predicted, possibly due to the concentration of rads, a perfect storm for self-replication. Once the army of Cril cleaned the sea, would they die off? Or devour one another? Presumably the science team had a plan for that eventuality, one kinder than allowing the Cril to perish forever after serving their purpose.

“That makes sense,” she said. “If the trench beast was accustomed to quiet waters.”

“Or possibly it had lain dormant for some time. The theories are mixed, though I admit to bafflement as to why the researchers are speculating about its origins during an attack.”

Qalu made an amused sound, weaving through the throng behind him. “That’s the scientific mind at work. We can’t stop asking questions even when they’re not the ones that urgently need answering.”

“Do not panic,” the flat robotic voice intoned. “We are taking measures to ensure your safety. Engineers are bolstering the shields. Please proceed to your emergency muster points.”

Because they were moving in the opposite direction from the frantic crowd, Helix used his body to shield Qalu, keeping her behind him as he dodged and occasionally swung his forelimbs to create paths where there had been none. Closer to the docking facility, the numbers thinned. Most of the others were already assembled with Bojak pacing in anxious strides. As ever, Praxys was enviably calm.

The resistance leader said, “The ship’s refueled at least. Let’s get out of here before it’s too late.”

Helix quelled an instinctive protest as Aevi leapt from Bojak’s shoulders into Qalu’s arms. She caught the Pherzul and cradled her close. Without hesitation, she said, “We can’t just leave while everyone’s in danger.”

“What, exactly, do you think we can do?” Praxys didn’t sound angry, only weary and resigned. “The ship has no weapons capable of hurting that thing.”

“Ugaru,” Carow cut in.

“Bless you.” By his tone, Bojak seemed to think he’d made a joke, but nobody laughed, and the human let out a gusty sound that Helix had heard from Beryl Bowman more than once.

“Tough crowd. Never mind.”

Praxys ignored Bojak, focusing on Carow instead. “What’s Ugaru?”

Carow shared what they knew readily. “Old legends about this world tell of an ancient protector named Ugaru, who sleeps until it’s time for the world to be reborn.”

“Interesting cultural context,” Maglan commented.

Helix found such stories fascinating, particularly considering what the Cril had been designed to do. Altarion was receiving an infusion of life, just as the stories foretold.

Praxys didn’t seem interested. “It’s irrelevant. We can’t save the Vault. We can only save ourselves and we need to do that before they lock everything down.”