Two of the armored marines, Privates Zhao Chin and Ralph Smith, stood just behind her, rifles at port arms, boom tubes—the new standard-issue gear for Southern Diggings—hanging from slings. God knew what might come charging out of the forest to race up and kill every living thing on the compound.

Behind her, the grinding clank made by the drills could be heard as they marched their way across the pad making hole-for-shot charges of magtex. With the arrival of Turalon, Kalico had wanted to rush a shipment into orbit. Would have enjoyed the satisfaction of sending a first load of rare earth metals back to Solar System with Turalon’s return.

Now, with her position uncertain—with even the future of Southern Diggings questionable—she wondered if it wasn’t just delusional to even try.

Were she to look over her shoulder, she’d see a quarter-finished fence and a line of tall posts stretching along the northern edge of the pad. Depending on what Talina and Dek discovered down south, well, there might be no purpose in trying to finish the barrier.

I will not see these people eaten, no matter what the value of the metals and elements we’re sitting on.

Soukup could damned well relieve her. Let another Supervisor pay for the wealth with the blood, lives, and dreams of his workers.

Something made a screeching down in the forest. It was followed by a change in the chime, a bass-harmony that almost became a melody, only to fail.

Like her aspirations for Southern Diggings?

What kind of creature could crush marine armor like that? And after the lobster thing the Maritime Unit had encountered, should she be surprised?

She heard the crunching of gravel, turned, and looked up as Raya Turnienko walked down, arms crossed, expression thoughtful.

“Mind if I join you?” Raya asked.

“Have a seat,” Kalico shifted on the crate to make room, propping elbows on her knees. “How’s Aberash?”

“She’s stabilized but in critical condition. I’ve got the blood drained from her subdural hematoma, set most of the broken bones. Assanti’s keeping an eye on her. If she doesn’t take a dive in the next couple of hours, I’d suggest shipping her up to Turalon’s med bay. That’s her best chance.”

“Do it.” Kalico returned her gaze to the forest.

“Anything from Tal?” Raya indicated the forest.

“Heard a burst of gunfire. Short. Maybe six or seven rounds. Then nothing.”

“Could be anything.” Raya rubbed her slim shins, squinted eyes fixed on the forest. “Might have shot a sidewinder, blown away some predatory vine. Given it was just a burst, I wouldn’t rate it too highly.” She smiled. “You’ve heard the gunfire when they find a quetzal? You’d think it was a small war.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.” A beat. “And then I tell myself other things. Ask other questions.”