Page 64 of Blightfall

I squinted at them, then lost sight as several motorized trucks carrying livestock trundled by, blocking my view. I’d gotten a good look, though—and while the light was dim, it wasn’t dark enough to hide them entirely.

Dayan Dayright was following us.

Nineteen

Arturo

Alanik and I flattened ourselves to the wall behind the illusion as an alien barreled around the corner. I recognized it immediately.

This was a varvax, one of the central species that ran the Superiority before it fell. The creature had a hard exosuit that looked to be made from sandstone and steel, roughly humanoid in shape. They were actually small crustacean-like beings suspended in fluid, usually behind the face mask of their suit.

This suit looked a bit different. The varvax was suspended in the torso, near where a human heart would be. Instead of its usual plated headpiece, there was only a wire frame with a small lens at the top jutting out of its shoulders. In its spindly hands, it held a robe like the ones worn by the figures that ushered Timon to Elysium.

The varvax stopped and, seeing nothing but the illusion of an empty hallway, raised the robe over its shoulders and draped it over the wire frame, covering the body and giving the impression of being headless beneath its hood. It probably used that lens to see out while it was wearing the robe, and it was currently searching the space, scanning for us.

I held my breath, trying to stay perfectly still. These were no mystical priests, only the creatures that had terrorized my people, imprisoned us on Detritus, tried to exterminate us and our allies. The varvax were supposed to all be neutralized. Isolated.

What the scud were they up to on this planet?

The varvax shouted something else in its language, waving its arms in the air. Alanik’s pin picked up part of the speech, translating it in my earpiece. The varvax was calling to others, warning of intruders.

If they were worried about being discovered down here, why didn’t they have better security? A moment later, two more varvax in identical robes ran up the hallway.

Stars, they looked creepy, walking around without faces. Like the robes were flying down the corridor on their own.

The first varvax surveyed the door, which hung slightly open, and the lock lying at the foot of the stairs beyond. Alanik and I pressed against the wall to avoid being brushed. If the varvax passed too near us, bits of its robe might disappear behind the illusion and draw its attention.

It passed our hiding spot, then through the doorway, looking for intruders. The other two waited, waving their arms wildly and talking in clicks and taps too quiet for Alanik’s pin to catch.

It sounded like an argument, and the one who lost seemed to sulk before stalking down the corridor and out of sight, while the other remained, watching. If it looked away, we could sneak around it before the third one came back, but we didn’t dare budge with it standing there, waiting for what felt like forever.

Alanik breathed slowly and deliberately, as if trying not to panic. I slid my hand along the wall, brushing her sleeve. She turned her head toward me, but her face was a mask, her expression betraying nothing. Hoid had dropped the illusion that made her look human, probably to focus on the wall illusion around us, and it was good to see her true features again, even under these circumstances.

I wanted to ask if she was okay, but I couldn’t risk being overheard. As the seconds ticked by, I felt like I was suffocating, like we were moments away from being discovered, interrogated, maybe executed by aliens who wouldn’t think twice about it.

Alanik’s fingers brushed mine, and I brushed hers back, then reached a little farther and grabbed her hand in mine. I waited for her to pull away, but instead she squeezed back, and a warm current ran up my arm, calming me.

The first varvax returned, shouting loud enough for the pin to translate, “There’s no one there!”

“Someone shot out the door handle!” the other replied. “Find them!”

The varvax stopped centimeters from us. Alanik squeezed my hand tighter as we both stared straight ahead at it, the cloth of its robe drifting toward the illusion—which contracted to avoid it. I wondered if it was my imagination, or if Hoid, peering out through the mesh bag, had realized we needed it to pull back slightly.

The third varvax returned with a set of power tools and a new door lock. They argued among themselves for a moment about who should fix the door, then two of them stalked deeper into the underground part of the arena, leaving the one with the power tools to repair the damage.

It shoved the door closed, using a heavy tool to hold it shut, and unscrewed the remains of the old lock. Its back was to us, and I looked over at Alanik and then inclined my head toward the end of the hall. Our footsteps covered by the whir of the tools, we edged along the wall, Hoid moving the illusion to block us from the varvax’s view if it turned.

Stars, these things could have eyes in the backs of their heads for all I knew. Theoretically, reverse lenses would be covered by their hood, but we knew so little about them, we had to assume the worst.

The corridor branched in two directions. I peered one way, then the other. The other varvax had gone to the left, so I chose the right.

Alanik didn’t let go of my hand as we wrapped around the corner. It felt so good to hold on to her, to know she was there, even if we couldn’t talk. There were so many things I wasn’t ready to talk about, and not just because of the mission or the varvax.

Focus, I told myself. We were inside an enemy facility. This wasn’t the time or place to get distracted. Still, I allowed myself the comfort. Calm nerves made for better decisions.

We edged down the next hall, then came to a set of ascending stairs. We were far enough from the varvax now that I stepped away from the wall, taking a deep breath.

Alanik’s fingers loosened on mine—my cue to let go. I didn’t right away. I didn’t want to. But finally I relaxed my grip and our hands drifted apart.