“What did he say?” Sean asked keeping his voice low.

“‘Welcome. Thank you for being eaten.’”

“That couldn’t possibly be right.”

“I know.” I stepped forward and held my palms out, making small circles. “Barsa?”

“Barsa. Barsa-barsa, barsa.”

“Oh. ‘Prepare to be eaten.’”

“That’s not better, Dina.”

The Barsas pulled on the tarp, and it slid to the ground, revealing a huge, wheeled platform, large enough to contain three semi-trucks side by side. The platform supported a massive mollusk in a spiral shell, dripping wet and brightly colored with blues and greens. It looked a little like the nautilus of Earth’s oceans, except it was a hundred times larger. Its tentacles were a bright electric pink and six feet long. A big round head that should have belonged to a snail protruded from the center of the tentacle fringe.

“Unexpected,” Sean said.

“There might be an underground lake inside the mountain.”

“Probably a sea. I smell salt water.”

That didn’t make it any less weird.

“Is that the thing that will eat us?” Sean asked.

I pointed at the mollusk and waved my arms. “Barsa, baaarsa, barsa?”

The Barsas stared at me for a moment and broke into high-pitched squeals, rocking back and forth and clutching their tummies.

“Apparently, I’m very funny.”

“I got that,” Sean said, his face communicating zero enthusiasm.

The leader finally managed to get his giggles under control. “Barsa, barsa barsa, barsa.”

“‘Prepare to be eaten by the portal.’”

“Oh good.”

A low hum came from the mollusk. The stripes on its shell began to spiral, first slow, then faster and faster.

“Barsa. Barsa. Barsa.” The leader waved his arms.

“Give us your arms.”

Sean gave me a look. I held my arm out. Two Barsas ran up to us and slapped small hexagonal timers onto our forearms. The digital numbers flashed with red. 5,000 long moments. 83 minutes.

“Barsa! Barsa, barsa, barsa. Barsa-barsa!” The leader put his hands together as if holding an invisible apple and opened his fingers, raising his arms. “Boom!”

“Portal must spit us back before the time runs out or…”

“We go boom.”

“Yep.”

I tapped the sensor by my right ear. A respirator unfolded, adhering to my skin over my mouth and nose. An earpiece slipped into my right ear and a clear faceplate unfolded in segments over my face. A short hiss told me my suit was sealed.

“Good?” Sean asked in my ear.

“Yes.”

The suits had about 6 hours of oxygen, so we wouldn’t run out of air. However, they wouldn’t stand up to Karron’s environment. Nothing would. The Dominion assured us that the conditions beyond the portal were optimal, but we didn’t want to take any chances.

Sean pulled his gun off his back. From the outside, the faceplate was opaque, a dark gray, smooth egg, and he looked like some faceless alien creature.