A skinny man in his early thirties wearing his Sunday best walked down the ramp, carrying a small suitcase and looking around nervously.

  “Alan!” someone shrieked from the trees.

  A woman his age ran forward. The man dropped his suitcase and she jumped into his arms. Merritt recognized her as Xia Shao, a hardworking farmer whose output was among the highest in the colony.

  Several shadows appeared at the top of the ramp, one of them noticeably taller than the others. Skip walked toward the shuttle, the bouquet gripped tightly in his hand.

  “Janey?”

  The tall shadow stepped forward into the light, revealing itself to be a beautiful woman with fair skin and long brown hair. “My Skipper?”

  Skip dropped the flowers and his lower lip trembled.

  “Papa!” shouted a young child.

  A little boy of nine or ten ran down the ramp, his shoes thumping loudly on the metal. He was followed by five others ranging in age up to their late teens who all hurried down the ramp toward their father.

  Skip dropped to his knees as the first of his children fell into his arms. The others closed in around him in a group hug. The children relented enough to allow him to stand. He swiped at his wet cheeks as Janey came forward to hold him, both of them sobbing. They moved away from the shuttle as a family, heading toward the colony. Skip glanced back over his shoulder to nod a farewell to Merritt.

  “Strong woman,” Kellan commented as he watched them leave. “I expect the family will thrive.”

  He offered his hand to Merritt. “You’re Merritt Alder, but I have no idea how you got on the Halcyon.”

  Merritt squeezed Kellan’s hand firmly. “I was a last minute crew hire on Sunrise Station.”

  “Ah, that explains it. I only have security footage sent back from the Halcyon before it entered the Rip. And you brought your son, Gavin. Where is he?”

  “On a field trip.”

  Kellan smiled knowingly. “Remarkable timing. Is this all that survived the crash?” he asked, nodding toward the dozen colonists who were now slowly approaching the shuttle.

  “No. Some are back on their farms.”

  “And hello to all of you,” Kellan said to the waiting colonists, stepping past Merritt. “The shuttle will be departing at midday tomorrow, if any of you are hoping to catch a ride back to Earth. However, I should warn you that my ship, the Renata, will be in orbit another few months until radiation levels are low enough to travel back through the Rip.” He looked around the clearing appreciatively. “It’s a lot more cramped up there than it is down here. A lot less beautiful, too. The choice is yours.”

  There were a lot of smiles and happy chatter among the colonists as they began to disperse, most of them discussing the unexpected possibility of leaving Galena the next day.

  Kellan watched them leave. His gaze drifted up to the treetops.

  “I’d like to talk to my wardens, if that’s possible,” he said, almost as an afterthought. “Ramirez and Cohen.”

  Merritt and Uda shared a quick glance.

  Kellan smiled sadly. “I take it they didn’t survive.”

  “They were killed shortly after the crash,” said Merritt.

  “Not during the crash?”

  “Cohen was poisoned, and Ramirez…” Merritt trailed off, remembering how a man named Tulliver landed a shuttle on top of the warden. “He died in a shuttle accident.”

  “That is unfortunate. But I’m pleased to see you’ve managed to get along without them.”

  “You don’t seem too broken up about it.”

  “To be quite honest, I wasn’t expecting to find much. A few empty farms and even fewer hungry survivors, perhaps.” Kellan clasped his hands behind his back and studied the ground with a concerned look on his face while he gathered his thoughts. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, but we have a lot to discuss. I’m going to tell my crew to set up camp here, in this clearing. That way we don’t interfere with your daily business. I’m hoping you’ll host me back at the colony for a few days so I can get the lay of the land.”

  “Why are you here?” Merritt asked.

  Kellan looked up and met his eye. “I’m not here to take the colony from you. I’ve seen your farms from the Renata. The colony is in far better shape than my meager expectations led me to believe. You have irrigation, silos for storage, and you’ve found a way to survive against the native wildlife. You’re doing just fine without a change in management.”

  “You lied to Leera James about a first colony. Those people weren’t so lucky with the wildlife.”

  “Did she survive the crash?” Kellan asked hopefully.

  Merritt nodded.

  “That’s fantastic news.” Kellan took a moment to process the information, muttering to himself. “Extraordinary. And yes, I withheld the existence of the first attempt at a colony from Leera and her team. The information was classified at the time as the initial…event…was still under investigation.”

  “Hex crabs swarmed their settlement and ate everyone,” said Uda.

  Kellan couldn’t disguise his interest. “Hex crabs, you say?” Then he cleared his throat. “Right. Such danger makes your survival all the more impressive.”

  Merritt stared at him for a long time, as if trying to make a decision.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked at last. “I made potato stew last night.”

  “That sounds wonderful. Lead the way.”

  Uda caught Merritt’s eye as they walked out of the clearing in the direction of the colony. She signed a single word: Careful.

  LEERA

  She tumbled through darkness in a powerful current, her helmet lamp sweeping over silvery bubbles and the rough rock walls of a long tunnel. Someone’s bright orange legs flashed in her view and were lost in a fresh wall of bubbles.

  After several moments of frozen panic, Leera called out for the others, but there was no response over comms.

  The current grew stronger, pulling her along as if she were in free-fall. Leera curled up in a ball and her back slammed against the rock wall. She bounced off and knocked helmets with someone else. Then she slammed against a grate blocking the tunnel and was stuck there like a fly on a windshield as three other bodies smashed into her, knocking the breath from her lungs.

  Small strands of green seaweed clung to the metal grate that scraped against her face shield. Leera tried to push away from it, at the very least to try and roll the bodies off her back, but she didn’t have the strength. Beyond the grate, all was dark. Deep green water turned to black out of reach of her quavering helmet lamp.

  The current lessened. Leera finally drew a breath as the pressure against her back lightened. She jerked back in fright as a thin line descended over her face shield — before realizing the water level in the tunnel was dropping. She floated free of the grate and sank along with the water until her boots hit the smooth rock floor.

  Niku stood next to her, doubled over and breathing hard. Miles and Weston slowly got to their feet, gloved hands slipping on the slick metal grate for support.

  Leera saw Miles speak behind his face shield, but nothing came over comms. She checked her wristpad and reset the comm circuit.

  “Try it now,” she said.

  “Everyone alright?” Miles asked, out of breath.

  “Just winded,” said Weston.

  Leera put her hand on Niku’s back. He nodded with his eyes closed and swallowed hard.

  “There’s a room ahead,” said Miles, turning his attention toward the darkness.

  His helmet lamp swept past the grate to reveal a wide, circular room with a low, flat ceiling. A single rock pillar in the middle, like the axle of a wheel, was the only object within.

  Leera moved from Niku to the wall, her balance unsteady, leaning against the slippery grate.

  “What do you see?” Miles asked.

  “Another indentation, like the one in the outer door,” she replied.

  After a light touch, a square of rock silently slid inward. Leera reached inside the hollow and pressed a switch.

  “Remember what happened last time…” Niku warned.

  The metal grate slid down from the ceiling and disappeared into the floor. Miles and Weston took a few hesitant steps into the circular room, followed closely by Leera and Niku.

  Their helmet lamps swept the floor and ceiling, sliding over wet rock walls and nothing else.

  “Dead end?” Niku mused.

  “A lot of effort and nothing to show for it, if that were the case,” Leera mumbled as she studied the curving walls.

  Weston’s helmet lamp played over the crack in the floor where the grate had disappeared. “Could be a safe harbor.”

  Niku’s lamp found Weston in the darkness, illuminating his boyish face. “You mean like a cage for observing sharks?”

  Weston shrugged.

  “Another door closed farther down the tunnel,” said Leera, “or the room would still be filled with water.”

  “What’s that?” Miles asked, facing the central rock pillar.

  A faint blue light glowed from a flat section of rock halfway up the pillar, as if it had been painted with a bioluminescent compound.

  “A control mechanism of some sort,” Leera guessed.

  Miles looked at the others. “Should we push it?”

  “Well,” said Niku, “it’s either going to flood the room again, flush us into the ocean, or turn on the lights.”

  “Among a hundred other possibilities,” Leera added. “But the other option is that we go back to the colony.”

  Miles exchanged a quick glance with Weston, who nodded, then placed the flat of his palm on the glowing rock. The blue light flicked off and he pulled his hand back sharply.

  “The room is spinning,” Niku whispered.

  Leera felt it, too, though very faintly. The floor under her boots vibrated with a minuscule tremor, almost imperceptible.

  “And we’re descending,” said Weston.

  Leera placed her gloved hand against the wall. “Descending at an angle, away from the Casmin.”

  “Are we going to talk about the fact that this was made by things that weren’t human?” asked Niku.

  “It’s an incredible discovery,” said Leera softly.

  “Hey!” Miles shouted.

  He ran as fast as he could in his bulky space suit back toward the tunnel. A smooth rock barrier silently rose from the floor. He reached it just in time for the top of the barrier to meet the ceiling, trapping them all inside the circular room.

  “Are we stuck down here?!” Weston asked, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

  Leera joined the others in pushing against the rock wall that blocked the tunnel exit. She sighed from the effort and tried to cross her arms. The Constellation-class space suit made the action difficult. Instead, she felt along the walls, searching for a control mechanism.

  “There’s a way out,” she said. “We just need to find it.” Then, adding with a smile to keep the mood light, “But who’s going to believe us?”

  “What do you think they look like?” Niku asked, staring up at the ceiling. “Whoever built this room wouldn’t be much taller than us.”

  “Unless they slither around on the ground,” Miles offered. “Or maybe they walk on all fours.”

  “Or twelves,” said Leera.

  “Wait a minute,” said Weston, an edge of concern to his voice. “You don’t think they’re still down here, do you?”

  Niku turned toward him, his helmet lamp illuminating the sheen of sweat on Weston’s forehead. “They could be.”

  “Wouldn’t we have seen them by now? We’ve been here eight years.”

  Leera shrugged, quickly realizing that lifting the weight of the suit on her shoulders wasn’t worth the gesture. “They might never go to the surface. The entryway to this room suggests they can either hold their breath for extended periods of time or they have suits like us.”

  “Or they can breathe air and underwater,” Niku added. “If that’s the case, they wouldn’t need to go on land.”

  Leera nodded. “There’s probably more food down here anyway.”

  “What about the sea monsters?” Weston asked.

  The room’s descent stopped with a gentle shudder, like an elevator reaching the bottom floor. They all rocked on their feet to keep their balance.

  They spent several long moments looking around the room expectantly.

  “Now what?” Miles asked.

  “The ceiling…” Leera whispered, looking up.

  Dim light glowed from the rock, as if it were illuminated from within.

  “It’s dissolving!” Weston shouted in alarm.

  The rocky surface of the ceiling faded as the light intensified. Ripples of shadow flowed over the walls and floor, coursing over the space suits like water reflections.

  “We’re under the ocean,” said Niku in disbelief. Then he laughed, startling Leera.

  “The ceiling didn’t dissolve,” she said. “It became transparent. We’re looking up toward the surface of the Equatorial Ocean.”

  “How deep are we?” Miles asked.

  “Twenty meters,” said Niku. “Maybe a little less.”

  Particulate matter floated like snow in the clear water. Farther above, orange light from the setting sun danced over the choppy water, casting shadows down to the ocean floor.

  A large creature swam slowly into view near the surface, its silhouette eclipsing most of the filtered light.

  Leera’s voice caught in her throat as she pointed up at it. After a long moment, she was able to whisper, “There’s your sea monster, Weston.”

  From below, the shadowy shape of the creature conjured images of a blue whale swollen in the midsection. Its front end — or, to be pedantic, the end currently moving in a forward direction — tapered to a point in a long cone. The tail-end was blunted, with no discernible fluke. Four massive flippers, two on each side, paddled in slow motion to propel the beast onward.

  “It must be fifty meters long,” said Niku.

  “What does it eat?” asked Miles. “How do you feed something so large?”

  “I’m sure there’s a lot more up there we haven’t seen,” said Leera. “We might be in some kind of observation facility, like an aquarium.”

  “To build something that can withstand the pressure at this depth…” Niku mused, pacing the outer wall of the circular room. “Remarkable.”

  A deep, hollow CLUNK shook the floor. The wall opposite the sealed tunnel entrance split down the middle, the crack growing wider to reveal darkness beyond.

  “I have a question,” Weston said quietly. “Why didn’t we bring the stun sticks? What if whoever built this place isn’t friendly?”

  The crack in the wall grew wide enough for all four of them to pass side-by-side — but no one moved.

  Leera squinted into the darkness. “It’s another tunnel.”

  Light seeped into the black space, slowly illuminating it to reveal what appeared to be an empty tunnel through water on the ocean floor. The walls and ceiling were transparent. It was three meters high and five across, and the end of it vanished out of sight in the distance.

  Leera looked behind her. The tunnel which had delivered them into the circular room was still sealed.

  “Thoughts?” said Miles.

  Weston grinned. “I shouldn’t have volunteered.”

  “We go, obviously,” said Niku.

  Leera nodded. “Obviously.”

  “Okay, then,” said Miles, taking a deep breath. “Wes and I will go first. That way we’ll be the first to kick the bucket if the ceiling collapses.”

  “Wait, what?” Weston said in shock.

  “He’s only kidding,” said Niku. “We’d all die at the same time.”

  Weston swallowed hard. “Comforting.”

  Miles walked into the tunnel, his boots thumping solidly on the rock floor.

  Leera put a gloved hand on Weston’s shoulder. He was still sweating, even against the steady airflow from the cooling fan in his pack.

  “Not a fan of tight spaces?”

  He shook his head. “I do fine up there,” he told her, his eyes flicking up toward the surface. “Something about being under the water…”

  “Whoever built this place did a better job than we ever could,” she said. “We’re going to be fine.”

  Weston took a deep breath and nodded, then hustled to catch up with Miles. Niku fell into step beside Leera and they both walked into the long tunnel, leaving the circular room behind. She reached out to touch the side of the tunnel, expecting her glove to dip into water. Instead, it bumped up against a hard, invisible surface.

  Miles and Weston walked a few meters ahead, snakes of light from the water above dancing over their space suits. The ocean floor extended into the distance to either side of the tunnel — a barren expanse of fine sand, its surface like a gently wrinkled bedsheet. Circular black pits wide enough to swallow a large truck punctured the ocean floor every thirty meters.

  “Sinkholes?” Leera asked, pointing.

  “Maybe vents,” said Niku. “There could be an entire independent ecosystem inside those holes.” There was a soft click over the comm system and Niku glanced down at his wristpad. “They switched to a private channel.”

  “I’m sure they’re just discussing which one of them gets to fight the first alien we see.”

  “Do you think we’ll find anything down here?”

  Leera thought about it a long moment. “This place feels empty.”

  Niku tapped on his wristpad. “The air is breathable.”

  She glanced up at the water overhead, seemingly held at bay by an invisible tunnel wall.

  “I think I’ll leave my helmet on,” she said. “Just in case.”

  They walked in silence for a few paces.

  Niku said, “I didn’t bring anything to eat.”

  Leera smiled. “It always comes back to food with you.”

  “Maybe we’ll find some alien TV dinners.”

  “Would you actually eat one if you did find it?”

  “If the safety seal wasn’t broken, sure.”

  Leera laughed, the sound loud in her helmet. There was another click from the comm system.

 

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