He eased his grip on the cable. It held. Just.
He leaned down, reaching his hand. At first the humans stared at him. Then one man reached up and took his hand. Tim lifted him up and out, gesturing toward the open hatch. It was a scramble for him, but doable.
After that, getting the humans to take his help got easier. One of the males, Tim noted his face for future reference, helped the injured woman up before taking Tim’s help. They both boosted her up and out of the lift shaft.
The humans, Tim was glad to see, had already evacuated the building. He could see some of them still making their way around the huge gap in the floor where the hatch had been.
“Run. Get out of here,” he told Riina, urging her ahead of him as he once more put the injured female on his back. He couldn’t hit his top speed because of Riina and the humans ahead of him.
The shuddering and groaning increased. He guessed the structure was about to collapse in on itself. How far would the impact reach outside? Had the humans evacuated far enough?
Outside he found the avians and the canines herding the humans away from the site.
Tim didn’t have time to blink at the sight. He’d have to blink later. Now that they were outside, he could hook an arm around Riina’s waist and pick up the pace, his cybernetics boosting arms and legs.
It felt as if the ground were crumbling behind them. He didn’t dare to even look back, and it wasn’t until he was well clear that he remembered that his cybernetics could have, possibly had, recorded the event.
His single focus shocked him. But he didn’t have time to worry about that either.
If his head count was correct, they’d acquired at least another ten humans.
The woman struggled against him, and he stopped and lowered her to the ground. They were clear of the collapse, but only just. But now one of the large avians dropped lightly down in front of them, as if it knew not to slam into the ground.
The female limped slowly toward it, and it lowered its head and gently pressed it against her.
“I think,” Riina said, “they know each other.”
Now he noticed what he hadn’t noticed before about her. She was haggard and thin, dirty hair hanging around pale, purple skin. He wasn’t sure why that surprised him. He’d seen many strange things in his travels, but he couldn’t recall a purple alien.
His radio crackled once, then again. He heard Lt. Dish’s voice.
“How is Timmy?”
For a moment, Tim couldn’t think what she was talking about. And then, impossibly, he chuckled.
“Timmy is no longer in the well.”
23
Riina still found her mind struggling with the idea of the birds and the canines going from adversaries to protectors, but that is what her eyes told her had happened.
The canines had formed a protective barrier around the freed prisoners.
It was completely awkward and frustrating that they couldn’t communicate with each other. The rescued prisoners stared at them. Some even spoke. She shrugged helplessly and told them she didn’t understand.
They probably didn’t understand that. It made her realize how much she’d relied on their tech to do things. The skills that real first contact required had been lost or left behind a long time ago.
Without the shuttle, without their ship, they were left with hand signals.
At least they had to know they’d rescued them. That they probably weren’t bad guys.
“We could probably transport the people,” Rinna said, “if we had the Quendala. We might even could fit them in the shuttle for a short time.” A short and highly uncomfortable time.
“If we knew where we were going,” Tim pointed out.
It was a big if, no question. She could only hope that Trac and Veirn’s fragment were finding that out.
“But the avians and the canines? I feel fairly certain that they are prisoners here, too. How do we save them?”
