Page 97 of Pets in Space 10

Lira’s father started to speak but stopped when the bubbles moved and a piece of rock fell out on the floor. He picked it up and handed it to Miles.

“Thank you, sir,” he said. It was one of the salt crystalline samples he’d seen up top. “So this keeps or kept the Skaridrex at bay?”

It was hard to say either alien species’ name. It felt like he was in a sci-fi show. They needed more, well, earth-like names. He knew it was unreasonable, but there it was. Bugs and bulbs. Problem solved.

And if the Skaridrex didn’t like salt? That almost made them slugs. It was interesting that salt turned to fluid didn’t seem to bother them though. That seemed like a disconnect.

“You have an idea?” Lira said.

“I might have the beginning of an idea.” That was almost too much optimism, he realized as soon as the words left his mouth.

He knew his Earth geology and what might work there, but he didn’t know how to create that risky solution with what he had on hand, or even up in the runner.

And he didn’t know if there was even a chance it would work with alien geology.

So that was a big problem right there.

“Tell me,” Lira’s father ordered.

Miles didn’t like it. He’d have liked to think about it some more, but T’Korrin signaled another tremor incoming. If their repair of the nanites was damaged again, he was a long way from tech support for them. It was possible Harold could help, but he didn’t want to count on that.

And what they really needed was a permanent solution.

“I’m just pulling this,” Miles almost said “out of my butt” but managed not to, “off the top of my head. But hydrothermal cementation might work.” He tried to rub his face but it wasn’t the same with his head gear on, even if the faceplate was up.

“If we could channel supersaturated silica fluids through those fractures — fast enough and hot enough — they’ll mineralize and seal things tighter than an IRS auditor’s pants. Think vein deposition, but weaponized.”

Both Lira, the bird, her father, and Harold stared at him. The nanites probably were, too, since they’d responded to his request for a sample. He tried not to shuffle his feet, tried to look confident and serious. He was pretty sure he didn’t manage either.

“I’m not saying there’s not promise in the idea,” her father finally said, “but there would be difficulties in making it happen.”

No kidding, Sherlock, Miles thought.

“Silica material can be found in the type of volcanics you have around here.” Or should be. How did he know that? Just because the Iceland volcanos had silica, didn’t mean this place had it. The anomaly was the salt that shouldn’t be here at all. How had the Vorthari constructed their barrier?

“Miles.” Lira’s voice was soft and shocked.

He looked up and saw a passage had opened in the bubble wall.

***

Lira stared at the passageway that had opened in the strange wall. The sides were translucent and they formed a glowing arch with a clear path down the center.

T’Korrin vocally made clear his distrust of the opening, his claws digging into her shoulder. It almost felt like he was lecturing her.

To her surprise, Miles’ hand gripped hers for a long moment, then he released it and walked forward. Harold started to follow him, but he glanced back and shook his head. He stopped just shy of the opening and touched the edge of it, his finger tracing the side as far as his arm could reach.

He dropped his arm to his side, but still didn’t step inside.

Her sense, from where she stood, was that it looked made. Constructed. Purposeful.

“Wait with father,” she said to T’Korrin. He hesitated, but to her surprise did as she said. For once. He didn’t try to stop her when she stepped up next to Miles.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Look at that,” he said, indicating the arch of the passage.

It was more translucent from this vantage point, and she saw patterns, pulsing, forming, collapsing and reforming. It was as if they looked through a window into something, well, terrifying.

There was sound, too, she realized. A crack, a pause, and then several cracks, as the patterns collapsed.

“They call it shatter writing,” her father said. She glanced back and he added, “The Skaridrex do it.”

“They are…” she couldn’t go on.

“Troubling,” Miles said. “But that doesn’t mean…”

He stopped and she mentally finished what she thought he hadn’t said. It didn’t mean the Vorthari would be good neighbors.

“Well,” he shifted his shoulders as if trying to loosen them and gave her a strained smile, “we aren’t going to learn anything standing here.”

He was correct, but it was hard to step under the arch and the Skaridrex. They were on the other side before she realized Miles held her hand again.

She wanted to look at him, to thank him, but she could barely form thoughts, let alone words.

At first, she couldn’t distinguish life forms in the swirling, changing and colorful soup inside the habitat. And now the sound had changed into soft whispers. Gradually, out of the morass, vague shapes formed. Moving lights in a wide variety of colors.

“I never,” Miles whispered, “was supposed to have first contact, let alone second and third. I think my brain hurts.”

She was surprised to hear herself chuckle at this. “Yes,” she agreed.

Slowly, out of the sound words began to form inside her head.

When the salt weeps and the stone breathes, the Shattercrawlers will rise.

Only in fracture does the truth reveal its shape.

The silence beneath is death waiting.

“Harold,” Miles said, “would say that is somewhat ominous.”

“Shattercrawlers,” Lira murmured. “Is that what they call the…” And then, for no reason she could define, she couldn’t say Skaridrex out loud.

It was dizzying to watch them move and she might have fallen, but for Miles.

“Well, we’re sure as shooting not in Kansas anymore.”

“What?”

“It’s a story about going over the rainbow. Do you have rainbows here on Arroxan Prime?”

“Yes.” She gave him a troubled look but he appeared to be calm and might even be getting curious. What did rainbows have to do with their current situation?

His grip on her hand tightened.

“Will you think I have bad manners if I go first?” he asked.

Lira’s brows arched. She didn’t want to let go and she certainly didn’t want to go first. Would it be going first if she went at his side? That felt too complicated to figure out right now.

“No.” She wasn’t completely sure it was the correct answer to his question. He gave her hand a last squeeze and then released it.

His shoulders rose and fell, and he took a careful step forward, as if not sure what was under them was firm enough to sustain their weight.

She looked down and wished she hadn’t. It was completely clear, with more of the moving lights beneath them.

In fact, it seemed as if they were all around them.

“I think they want us to go this way,” he said.

She peered around him and saw that some of the lights, smaller ones, had formed into two lines on either side of what appeared to be a walkway.

Her father’s voice came through the passage behind them. “Just walk forward following the lights. And if you have questions, just say them out loud. They brighten for yes and dim for no.”

She wanted to ask what they’d do for questions that needed more than yes or no. She didn’t. Her throat was so dry it was hard to speak, and her brain was telling her not to ask questions for now. Her brain resembled the fizz of an overloaded system and wanted to go offline for a bit.

The only certainty she had at the moment was Miles’ grip on her hand. She looked up and saw tension in the line of his mouth, but there was also grim purpose in his gaze.

He’d stopped and she realized it was a kind of junction, and the lights showed two separate paths.

“I think we need to go this way,” Miles said.

He may have gestured. She wasn’t sure. Two paths. Two of them. She had the feeling the Vorthari didn’t want them to stay together. She found her voice, but her brain was still too fully engaged.

“I’m glad you are my first alien.”

She hadn’t realized she felt it until she said.

“I’m better with rocks than people,” he said, “but I’m glad, too. I wish, well, I wish your people were space capable.”

“It’s difficult to work with fuels with so much seismic activity,” she said, almost absently. It was what they always said when someone looked up for too long and wanted to find out what was out there.

“You must have a crap ton of fossil fuels down below, but yeah, they can be explosive when you’re figuring them out. It’s pretty interesting out there though.”

There came the sound of her father clearing his throat. “You need to focus,” he said.

Lira closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The first time she’d met a guy she’d like to know better and what happens? The planet might be at risk and her father is listening in. She wished she knew what was worse.

She gave Miles a crooked smile. “I think they want me to go this direction.”

“I don’t like it,” Miles said.

Lira didn’t either. “I have a feeling we won’t be able to go further if we don’t…” She sighed.

“Yeah, you are probably right about that.” Miles sighed, too. His grip on her tightened just shy of too painful. She gripped back as he turned so that they stood face to face.

His other hand came up and brushed her hair back off her forehead.

He didn’t speak, but his eyes. Oh, his eyes and the way he looked at her.

It made no sense. They’d known each other for hours, but she had a sense she already knew him and that he knew her.

That now they were just trying to remember what they knew.

It shouldn’t make sense, and to an outsider, it probably wouldn’t. To her, it felt right.

For just a minute, she let her cheek lean into his touch, her eyes closed so that she felt. She opened her eyes as his hand fell away, and his grip loosened in slow motion. She stepped back. So did Miles.

“You’ll be all right,” Miles said.