“We need to get out of here. Rendezvous with the Hughes.” Fela grabbed her gear. She circled her hand, and the HOVA Hellfighters prepared to move out.

“There’s not enough room for civilians,” Epyc Ro said.

“We’ll worry about that when we get there.” Fela turned toward Ellis. “We’re moving out. Your people can follow us, and we can see about getting you out of here. Or you can go your own way. But you’re not safe here.”

The Mzisoh’s territory was landlocked. A complex system of mountain ranges ran northeast to southwest, walling off the southwestern plateau and northern plain, which housed most of their fertile soil. The plateau gave way to harsh desert terrain. The band marched for what may have been an hour. The soft mewls of Mzisoh newborn were hushed by attentive mothers as best they could. Ellis marched alongside them, leading a contingent of their people’s soldiers as a buffer between them and the HOVA. The shapes and grooves of the cavern shifted, though they didn’t seem any closer to the end. The passage wound about, reminding Fela of the aboveground switchbacks of the road. The HOVA moved with uncharacteristic lack of chatter, each lost in their own thoughts, conserving their energy for the march. Or the fight ahead.

Chandra lit up, her hand steadying her against the cave wall. Whatever Chandra experienced hit her with a physical force, staggering her, nearly toppling her from her feet. The signals threatened to overwhelm her. The data streams, the communication arrays, all must’ve been a rising chorus in her skull from the way she clutched her head.

“Chandra, what is it?” Fela asked.

<They’re coming.>

An impending attack produced what must have been the kind of rush that might overdose O.E. streamers.

“Ellis, how much farther to the surface?” Fela asked.

“Not far. Half a kilometer.”

“HOVA, double time.” Fela waved them onward as she started jogging.

The light danced, a seductive gleam in the distance. Fela’s trot shifted to a dash, both hands gripping her talon, steadying her breathing to settle into attack mode. On the horizon, a penumbra formed. It shifted with malign intent, an undulating wave blocking out the light of the sun in its passage. The dark shape whirled, light reflecting from a metallic sheen. A rising buzz thrummed in her chest in an all-too-familiar roar.

“Drones!” Fela yelled. “Take cover!”

10 AMACHI ADISA
The Dreaming City

Anger is your gift.