“Got it,” Talina told her, her large eyes squinted. “Some kind of southern species of treetop terror. Take you down in the morning if you want to see what’s left. Valdez and Briah got video of it. Three tentacles. The first two have thick keratin-like knobs on the end. Maybe weigh a couple hundred pounds each. Uses them to crack the shells on the local predators like land tanks and scimitars. That’s what got the marines.”

Dek laid a hand on Kalico’s shoulder. “It needs the treetops. You don’t have anywhere it can perch to threaten Southern Diggings.”

“Well, that’s . . .”

Kalico’s earbud crackled, Two Spot’s voice announcing, “Supervisor? Just got a call from Bogarten. He’s got Board Inspector General Soukup. They’re on the way in. Just thought you deserved a heads up.”

“Roger that, Two Spot. Thanks.”

“And Supervisor, you should know. Bogarten added something. Really soft. Like, it was under his breath. Sounded like, ‘Tell Kalico to get her butt back to PA.’ Then he signed off. And, Supervisor? Fenn didn’t sound like he was any kind of happy.”

Chapter 67

  67  

Falise wondered at the impossible insanity that she now had to accept as reality. Her dreams had been filled with terror, with bleeding and broken bodies, images of the dead dancing around inside the wreckage of the shuttle that she knew lay just down the ridge.

More amazing, as she came awake, her butt might be aching on the bare stone, but the rest of her was cushioned against Flute’s soft belly. Her sleep had been lulled through the night by the reassuring gurgles of his digestive system. Adding to the absurdity, she was snuggled against Kylee Simonov, half spooned with the same intimacy as if they were lovers.

She didn’t even like the foul-mouthed brat.

Or did she?

Pondering the question, she scanned the forest, hearing the endless chime, so different in the night.

The last two days had been like a harrowing disaster. Reality turned upside down, inside out, and then shattered. Were she to lift her right hand, it would be to see the Third’s dried and flaking blood. She’d been trained on how to cut a human being’s throat. Trained was one thing. The act was something else. She hadn’t been prepared for the hot spray of blood that blew out with each of the frantic Third’s terrified exhalations.

Beat leaving her to be entombed and slowly strangled.

“Who am I?” Falise mouthed the words, eyes on the streak of light that marked the eastern horizon. From the elevation here, she could see the serrations of the Wind Range, a distant dark silhouette above the endless forest.